Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kat
The rest of the week flew by quickly and was more or less uneventful, aside from the nerves I continued to feel while trying to work with Miles in the kitchen. Every day I would be a flustered mess until he left to work the food truck.
By Sunday, I’d already had my menu created for the competition, though I had no idea what Miles was preparing, so I naturally felt unprepared. It was a feeling that I hated and it helped bring back some of the anger that I needed to keep my guard up against him.
It wasn’t that I wanted to hate him; it was just a lot easier to focus on that instead of the mounting attraction that continued to rise up, despite me trying to keep it away. The man was like a forbidden piece of fruit, and I wanted to devour it.
And it wasn’t just that he’d kept getting in my space at work—that was bad enough, especially when he’d accidentally brush against me when trying to get to something in the freezer or pantry.
He’d also started to wear snug-fitting t-shirts that wrapped so tightly around his body that I found it hard to concentrate.
The weather was getting warmer, which meant he wasn’t wearing hoodies or loose-fitting clothes that hid his body anymore.
It was yet another distraction that I didn’t need.
Monday, I’d gone to work, ready for another day, when I found Clarissa at the front, looking overly stressed out.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting my coffee down.
“Apparently, there’s a nasty bug going around, and we’re down two chefs tonight. We also have reservations for two eight tops, and Lauren called in, sick too.”
“Okay, we can manage. What do you need from me? Do you want me to change the menu to something easier tonight?”
Clarissa exhaled heavily and was about to answer when Miles walked in.
“On second thought,” she mumbled, her eyes lighting up as he walked over.
“Everything alright?” he asked, looking between us.
“I hate to ask,” Clarissa said while gripping the side of the podium. “But is there any way you can fill in for Javier tonight? We’re down two chefs and a server.”
“Stomach flu?” he asked, pulling his face in disgust.
“Unfortunately.”
“Yeah, my buddy Anthony has it too.”
He looked down at his watch, then out to where the food truck was parked outside.
“If you can’t, it’s not a big deal. I know Anthony usually helps you, so you’re in a bind, too,” Clarissa said softly.
“Actually, I can close the truck for the night. It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“It’s not a problem at all. And, I might be able to help with the shortage here, too.
I have a friend, Darryl, who’s been helping me out with the truck.
He should be there in an hour, but if you’re okay with it, I can ask him to come here instead.
I pay him fifteen an hour, so if you could match that, I know he would appreciate it. ”
“What kind of work?”
“He does prep for me but has a lot of kitchen experience. I’ve had him prepare food for me and run orders.”
“Do you think he could manage the expo station for us?”
“I think he’d be the perfect fit.”
I stood there watching as they continued their conversation without me.
“Perfect. If you want to let him know to come in a little early, I’ll have him complete some paperwork and get him set up. Pay is twenty-two an hour as my thank you for him coming to help at the last minute.”
“I’ll let him know.”
“You’re the best.”
She smiled, took the stack of papers with her, and headed to her office.
“It’s nice of you to help out,” I commented as we walked to the kitchen together.
“It’s not a problem at all.”
“Yeah, but you’re keeping your truck closed tonight to help us. That’s huge. Not many people would do that.”
“I’m not like most people.”
I wanted to comment and say something like I know, you’re better than most people, but that would mean that I had been watching him and might give him the wrong impression.
Instead of working on new menu ideas, Miles and I spent the extra time we had getting things ready for tonight.
I was busy prepping the vegetables and garnish while he pulled the meats we needed to the front of the freezer and made sure each station had what they needed for the dishes we would be serving tonight.
Like always, I constantly found him in my space and couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing it on purpose. We were a week away from the competition, and I was no closer to figuring out how to share a space with him.
I was standing at the counter, refilling the bottles of oil for each station, when I felt him come up behind me. He leaned in past me, resting one hand on my hip as his muscular chest pressed against my back as he reached into the tight space to grab the seasonings he needed from the shelf.
Granted, there was plenty of room on the other side of me, but he chose to squeeze into the narrow space where the counter formed an L shape.
My breath hitched in my throat as his fingers dug deeper into my skin as he extended his reach.
“Sorry,” he breathed into my ear. “Just needed the cumin and paprika.”
I tried to respond, but a soft moan escaped my lips instead.
I knew he could feel the way my body was betraying me because he didn’t bother to pull away once he had the spices he needed.
Instead, he pressed a little harder, letting me feel the hard outline of his cock as it strained against the thick fabric of his jeans.
“This is what you do to me, Kat,” he whispered. “You drive me crazy wanting to touch you.”
His lips brushed against my ear, sending a shiver through me.
Just then, the kitchen doors swung open, and he stepped away.
I hung my head and tried to steady my breathing as Jamie walked in. I felt her eyes on me as she hung her stuff up on the coat rack by the door, but she didn’t say anything.
Soon, the kitchen was bustling, and Clarissa was doing a quick rundown with everyone before we opened. Darryl had shown up early, impressing Miles with a new haircut and appropriate attire. I didn’t know much about his story, but I could see the pride in Miles’ eyes as he talked privately with him.
“Alright, guys,” I said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention as the first few orders came in. “Let’s get this night off to a great start. I need three buffalo burgers, two shrimp scampi, and a lobster tail. Let’s go!”
A collective yes, Chef, murmured around me as they got busy preparing the orders.
Since we had Miles helping out tonight, I felt easily distracted as I watched him work.
I needed something to occupy my mind and decided to jump in and help with the cooking, leaving Jamie to check the plates after Darryl finished the final touches.
Things were running smoothly until I realized that the only open space for me to work was right next to Miles.
He grinned as if knowing my predicament and scooted over to make room for me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled and got situated next to him.
He smiled and flipped the skillet in his hand, shuffling the vegetables around before returning it to the stove.
We’d prepped most of what we thought we needed before we opened, but as I looked around, I realized we were already running low.
I grabbed the extra from the counter behind me and got to work washing them before peeling and cutting.
Before I knew it, we had a system going where, as soon as I had the next batch ready, he was plating the cooked ones and adding mine to the skillet.
It was weird to see how easily we were navigating the tight space we shared between us, but I tried not to focus on it.
We were in the thick of the rush, and orders were coming in quicker than we could get them out.
It’d been a while since I’d been on the cooking side of the kitchen, and I forgot how stressful it could be.
Soon, Miles was serving food before I could prepare the next batch. I felt the pressure building as I slid my knife through a potato, feeling my hand slightly shake.
Miles looked over and noticed, then, without warning, stepped behind me to get another potato to get us caught up and gripped a hand around my waist.
I gasped sharply at the contact, bringing the knife straight down on my finger.
“Son of a bitch,” I yelled, drawing the attention of everyone in the kitchen, including Clarissa, who had just come back to see how things were going.
“Chef has a severe cut,” Miles announced, stepping beside me and grabbing a towel to wrap my hand.
“Take her to my office; there’s a first aid kit in the cabinet by the door,” Clarissa said, grabbing an apron from the rack and tying it around her waist. “Jamie, I need you to take over vegetables. I’ll step in as an expediter. Let’s go, everyone, stay focused; we have dishes to serve.”
I moved aside and allowed Miles to lead me to the private bathroom in the back after he stopped to grab the first aid kit.
He gently unwrapped the towel and looked at my finger before placing my hand under the water.
I hissed at the burning sting and closed my eyes.
“You cut it pretty good, but I don’t think you need stitches,” he said quietly while he held it in place.
“It’s all your fault,” I muttered, keeping my eyes closed while he turned off the water and laid my hand on the edge of the sink.
“My fault? How’s it my fault?”
He opened the first aid kit and dug around until he found what he needed.
“Because you keep touching me, and every time you do, I get all…”
I sighed, letting my words drop off.
I felt pressure against my finger as he squeezed some ointment on it and then wrapped a layer of gauze around it.
“I get you all what?” he asked, his voice gruffer than it was a few minutes ago.
“Nothing.”
He tore a piece of tape off and wrapped it around the bandage. Then he pulled away, and I opened my eyes to find him leaning against the wall, studying me with his arms folded over his chest.