15. Ridley
FIFTEEN
RIDLEY
“If this keeps up, we should put a few benches out front.” Stewart’s peering through the front window. “There must be twenty people out there waiting for us to open.”
“Damn,” Bane says, but he’s grinning. “This is so badass.”
I finish wiping down the table I’m working on before standing upright and looking outside. “It’s gotta be the news segment.”
“You heard about that?” Salem asks, glancing up from the bar where he’s stacking t-shirts with Indy. “I haven’t talked to Wren about it yet.”
“What do you mean? The segment was on TV.”
“Oh.” Salem smiles. “Not that one. We got a request for Wren to do a cooking segment on Good Morning New Onyx .”
“No way. That’s so cool.”
“I love the cooking segments,” Stewart says. “They always have good chefs come on.”
“Just got the email today,” Salem says. “I was planning to talk to Wren about it later.”
“Talk to me about what?” Wren enters the area, carrying a tray of garnishes for the bar.
“Oh hey,” Salem says. “ Good Morning New Onyx wants to feature us and have you do a cooking segment.”
His face goes blank. “On television?”
Salem grins. “Yep. It’s a pretty big deal.”
Wren’s cheeks turn pink. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m a behind-the-scenes kind of guy.”
I can sense his anxiety building from here, so without thinking, I cross the space and put my hands on his shoulders, massaging gently.
“Wren, you’re an executive chef at a popular hot spot. You got into this position with your talent, and you elevated Moby’s with your food. You can absolutely step into the limelight and claim what’s yours.”
He looks over his shoulder to meet my gaze, the panic in his eyes subsiding as he nods and blows out a breath. “Right. Okay. They’ll coach me and stuff, right?”
“I’m sure they will.” I release his shoulders and walk around to face him. “This is a fantastic opportunity for you. You should be very proud.”
“I am.” He finally smiles. “It’s cool.” He turns to Salem. “You have more details?”
“Sure do. I’ll send you the email and then we can talk about scheduling and whatnot.”
“Okay.” His eyes meet mine briefly. “I’ll see you later.”
“You will.”
Wren walks off, and when I’m done watching him, I turn around to find all the guys looking at me. Indy grins while folding a t-shirt, but everyone else is obviously waiting for me to say something. I don’t though, returning to the task of wiping down chairs and tables.
“Well.” Kit chuckles. “Guess we’re gonna be on TV.”
I look up, grinning. “I think we’re gonna need a bigger boat.”
Everyone laughs until Lowen chimes in on a more serious note.
“Ridley’s right though. We may need to look at our staffing and hours again, at least through summer.
Every time we get so much as a mention on social media, we see an increase.
Being on a major TV show like that is likely going to generate business. ”
“Why don’t we have a meeting tomorrow to go over everything?” Indy suggests.
“Over brunch,” Jerryn adds.
I smile, listening to them work out the details. Sundays are turning into a kind of family day, where we all gather together, at least for a few hours. It’s become a tradition I really like.
I glance down the hall towards the kitchen, wondering if Wren is handling the news okay. I’ll check on him when it’s not so obvious.
“Are we ready?” Stewart asks, peering out the front door again.
Indy nods. “We’re ready. Open the doors.”
Around ten o’clock, when the kitchen is closing, I take a quick run through the bar, making sure my tables are good before heading back to check on Wren and his crew. He puts up a basket of wings that Bane grabs just as I enter.
“No more orders,” Wren says without looking up.
“Promise.”
He snaps his head up and his expression relaxes into a smile. “Hey.”
“Hey. You good?”
“Yeah. Totally. It’s been a wild five hours though.”
“It’s still crazy out there, but that’s Saturday night for ya.”
“Right.” He glances around. “Can you step outside for a minute?”
“Sure can.”
We head through the back door, out into the alleyway. It smells like dumpsters and damp brick even though there’s a refreshing breeze blowing past, but I’m still happy to be alone with him.
“Thanks for talking me down earlier,” he says. “I needed a voice of reason.”
“Not a problem. Are you still feeling nervous about it?”
He nods. “Definitely, but you’re right. This is what I wanted in my career, and now I have the chance to pursue it. All I have to do is take it.”
“Good, because you earned it. None of this just happened. Without your food, Moby’s would be just another bar serving drinks.”
He smiles, scraping the toe of his sneaker on the gravel but not saying anything else.
“Did you have something specific you wanted to talk about, Chef?”
“Is it bad that I really liked how you teased me earlier?” His words come out in a rush, like he had to force himself to say it. “If you wanted to do more of that, I’d be open to it.”
Grinning, I step closer to him, backing him up against the brick of the building. “You’d be open to it, huh?”
Wren nods, grazing his teeth over his bottom lip. “It was exciting.”
“Like stealing a few quiet moments outside a busy bar where any of our friends could walk out and catch us?”
Wren’s breath hitches as he rubs my pecs over my t-shirt. “Mm-hmm.”
I dip my head to nuzzle his neck, inhaling his scent even under the smells of food and sweat clinging to him. There’s something inherently soft about him, like a favorite blanket.
My hands roam down his body, avoiding the part I want to touch the most. Instead, I brush my lips across the soft patches of skin on his neck.
“Ridley,” he moans, tangling his fingers in my hair.
He moans again, bucking his hips against mine, and the idea of dropping to my knees right here in the alley and having my way with him crosses my mind, but my phone buzzes in my pocket before I can.
I groan, leaning back enough to pull it out and read it. “Ugh. It’s from Bane. One of my tables is looking for me.”
“We should get back anyway.”
“We should.” Gripping his chin gently, I tilt his head back, searching his eyes. “Find me tonight, rabbit. I’ll be waiting for you. Desperate for you.”
Wren nods, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. “I’ll find you.”
I enter the bar first, adjusting my dick before heading back to the dining room and taking care of my table. It’ll be hard getting through the next few hours, but the payoff is getting my hands on my favorite ginger chef again.
And that is definitely worth the wait.