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Tangling with the Mountain Man
Chapter One
TAYA
It was a week and a half until Christmas, and I had so many things left to do, like find the perfect gifts for Dylan and Lauren before they left tomorrow for their grandparents' place in Canada. This year they’d received plane tickets from their father’s parents to spend the holiday with them and I was a little weepy about it, even though they’d been with me the last two weeks since their break from college started.
I repeated the thought again as I stood in front of the prep area of the kitchen where I worked. The fact that I had children old enough to attend college often surprised people. And when we were often mistaken for sisters, it secretly gave me a thrill.
But when they turned nineteen last year, I can’t lie, my anxiety increased big time over them repeating my own life choice at that age, I refused to label my kids as a mistake. The thought had me stress eating the truffle-laced French fries my customers kept coming back to O’Malley’s Pub & Grill where I was head chef. I was still trying to work off the extra ten pounds I’d gained since we added them to the menu.
But big things were coming. Soon my catering company would launch, and I’d be too busy to think about the possibility of becoming a young grandmother or eating my weight in fries. In fact, I had a couple of events lined up before Christmas as sort of a soft opening that I was planning new dishes for that would keep me busy while the girls were away.
I’d still help out at the Pub, tweaking the menu for Maverick and Luke when they wanted new items, but I was so looking forward to the change of pace. Not that I didn’t love working here but owning my own business had been my dream since graduating culinary school.
I’d raised the twins on my chef’s salary, and even with my ex's child support, I still had to work for someone else in order to afford health insurance. But now, at forty-one, I could finally afford to go after my dream. Thankfully the girls’ stellar grades had earned them both partial scholarships so, along with working part-time jobs and scrimping and saving the last two years by working all the hours I wanted, come the new year Full Plate Catering would be up and running.
Dylan and Lauren’s father may have pulled back emotionally from them, the bastard, but I couldn’t fault his parents, their grandparents, especially since they helped out over the years with extra funds and now helping pay for their living expenses at college. It would be a lonely two weeks without them, but they’d be back in time to help me with the launch of my business.
I carried their lunch order out myself. It was Wednesday and the mid-week crowd was slower than normal, so I snuck away for an extended break with my girls.
My sous chef shouted my name as I crossed the threshold between the kitchen and the pub. I answered his question, then without looking, began walking again, right into a brick wall. One plate stuck to my chest and the other and all its contents smashed against the wide chest of a shocked patron with the darkest eyes and broadest shoulders I’d ever seen.
Before I could form an “I’m sorry,” large hands latched onto my hips, holding me steady from the impact, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a low, impatient growl.
“I’ve got you. Are you okay?” A deep, rumbly voice asked.
The question confused me. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. At five-four, I was used to being shorter than a lot of men, but this one seemed to have almost a foot on me. Carrying the scent of fresh cut pine, he had muscles everywhere. Encased in a form-fitting thermal shirt, the bearded mountain of a man narrowed his eyes at me. I felt my cheeks heat from under his grumpy yet interested gaze.
“Mom, you okay?” Dylan appeared behind the grumpy but also incredibly handsome man, a look of humorous concern filled her face. “Whoa, what a mess. Was that our lunch? I’ll go get some towels.” She sprinted off behind us, disappearing through the swinging door.
Lauren appeared from the other side, walking away down the hallway where the restrooms were located. “Mom, oh my gosh, what happened?” She took a long look at the hot guy between us then continued. “I’m sure you didn’t have to dump food on him to get his attention.” Cracking up at her own joke, Lauren stood next to me, her gaze flicking between me and the still grumpy looking man who apparently was still waiting for me to respond to his question.
My heart raced, and my palms were sweating, so I shoved the plates into Lauren’s hands. “Here, take these and find your sister. She’s getting towels.” Looking back into the poor man’s eyes, a shock of awareness flitted down my spine. I may be forty-one, but I was far from dead and this guy had some serious magnetism going on. Still not sure if he found the situation amusing or aggravating, I began wiping my hands on his mid-section, trying to remove the food I’d just smashed onto him.
My fingers met solid steel. Holy wow, this guy was built. Maybe he’s a bodybuilder. “I’m terribly sorry. I rarely carry dishes out of the kitchen. There should be a rule against me doing it, and here, let me.…”
Dylan arrived with towels, but she was no help. She stood there next to her grinning sister. They watched with way too much enjoyment as I further made a fool of myself. “I, uh, can wash your shirt in the sink. And your meal is on me. Oh, um no, that’s…okay. Let me begin again. What can I do to make this right?” Yeah, stupid question to ask with my hands full of pasta primavera loaded with extra garlic and white wine sauce. If it wasn’t so funny, I’d probably break out in tears. Thank goodness he wasn’t yelling at me. Instead, he was still patiently watching me, waiting. Oh, yeah. He asked me if I was okay.
“So, I’m fine. Are you? I mean, obviously you just had a plate of hot pasta dumped on you, but other than that, did I hurt you?” So maybe that last part wasn’t needed. This man probably wouldn’t get hurt if a bomb went off in the pub. He had a rough yet ready and very capable look about him that screamed protector .
“I’m good. My shirt is fine. I’ll take one of those towels now.” He kept his hands on me despite his declaration. And he never looked away from me. Not once, even as other employees arrived to help.
One of my girls let out a nervous giggle. The sound broke whatever spell held us together and his hands dropped to his sides. I felt a wave of disappointment while still feeling the heat from his touch.
Before he could leave, I grabbed a towel, wiped the food from my hands. He took one as well, and everyone else left us alone. The busboy had already used a mop to clean up the floor, and the girls reluctantly returned to their table after I gave them my mom glare.
“Again, I’ll pay for your meal and anyone you’re with. Where are you sitting?” I asked.
He nodded and waved a hand. “Over there in the far corner. I’m here with a buddy. His wife used to work here. Maybe you know her?”
Following the direction of his hand meant tearing my gaze away from his, and I was having a difficult time getting my brain to re-engage and follow directions. When I did, my gaze landed on Cole Nolan, who was married to Scarlett, one of our former servers, a close friend of mine. Cole waved at me and smiled.
“You know Cole and Scarlett?” As soon as I asked it, it sounded dumb. Of course he does. That’s what he just said, Taya. “I mean, how do you know them?”
“Cole and I served together. I moved here recently after visiting them last year. I’m Beck. Beckett Rivera. And you must be Taya Davis, the chef I’ve been hearing about.”
He’d heard of me? Had he eaten here before? His attention, although far from uncomfortable, was something I wasn’t used to. I dated sporadically, but after beginning my fourth decade, I did mention to Scarlett that I would definitely get myself back out there if only to find a friend with benefits situation. Probably. Maybe. In the new year, for sure.
Scarlett had been on my case lately about my lack of male companionship. Could I be so lucky that this man is single?
As much as I wanted to learn more about him, now was not the best time. The girls were waiting, and I needed to get back in the kitchen, grab them two new plates of pasta and then get back to work. “You’re Beck? Oh, that didn’t come out right. She told me you’re staying with them. Well, I hope it was only good things. That you heard about me, I mean.” Groaning inwardly, could I be any more awkward ? “I’ll let you go to get cleaned up. Don’t worry about the bill. I’ll go take care of that now. It was, ah, nice meeting you.”
“It was. I hope we can see each other again. Without the plates of food between us. I enjoyed the special, by the way. Now I have more reason to come here than just the great food.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
The pub was fast filling up and people were coming and going around us, but all I could do was stand there, mesmerized, as Beck smiled. At me. All his attention was on me .
“The beautiful chef, of course.” He answered then looked me up and down.
Wow. I mean, wow, wow, wow. What had just happened? I watched him walk down the hallway. His long strides holding me captive while my own daughters catcalled me from across the room.
I’d been caught checking out Beck’s ass.