Chapter 6
Chapter Six
LEVI
“What are you doing here?” the guy from this morning asked. He looked just as shocked as I was. His longish bangs were tied back out of his face into a topknot, which shouldn’t look as manly as it did on him.
“I should be asking you that, since my family runs this B&B,” I shot back with a curious look.
He wrinkled his brow, then asked, “Are you Henry and Peter’s son?” I nodded, and he laughed. “Oh, wow. What are the chances? After you left my room this morning, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, I knew he’d said exactly the wrong thing in front of a group of very nosy women. I looked over my shoulder, and as I expected, four pairs of shining eyes were watching us.
They quickly flicked their gazes away when they saw me looking and focused on their ice cream like they hadn’t been eavesdropping, but I could practically see their ears perk up in attention to our conversation.
“Ladies, I’ll see you later,” I said with a beaming smile, acting like I was clueless about their antics, then nudged our new chef and gestured for him to follow me in the kitchen.
I couldn’t help but smile as they grumbled behind us. One of the ladies was complaining to the others about making it too obvious and chasing us away.
They really were a funny bunch.
Alone in the kitchen, I turned back to the man from this morning. “So, you’re Andy, our new chef,” I stated.
“And you’re my new boss,” he replied in the same tone and a teasing smile on his lips.
“Which makes last night even more complicated,” I grumbled under my breath, but apparently not low enough because he heard me.
“If this makes things too awkward, I don’t have to stay with you during my time here. Maybe I can find a rental in town or something,” he said, which reminded me of a very important fact.
Our new chef was supposed to stay with me for the next six months, and since he was our new chef, that meant he’d be staying with me.
Fuck my life.
Making a drunk fool of myself wasn’t exactly the first impression I wanted to make on our new employee and my new roommate.
“It’s fine,” I quickly said, trying not to make this a bigger deal than it really was. I couldn’t scare our new chef away as soon as he got here. We desperately needed him for the upcoming winter rush.
We didn’t get many applicants, which made sense since not many wanted to travel to our small town, and we weren’t able to offer much without breaking the bank.
What we had offered was a place to stay, and I wasn’t going to take that away just because of a little embarrassment. Besides, I doubted he’d be able to find a place for a six-month rental on such short notice anyway. Not when local hotels and B&Bs could charge more for shorter stays during our winter season.
“Let’s just pretend last night and this morning didn’t happen. We’ll start over. Hi, I’m Levi,” I said, holding my hand out.
“Andy. I’m excited to work with you,” he said, accepting my handshake. His grip was tight, and with the sleeves of his chef’s shirt rolled up to his elbows, I could see the bulging veins on his arms. All muscle and power.
Damn, that’s hot .
And that was a totally inappropriate thought to have about the newest addition to the B&B.
I quickly dropped his hand and rubbed the back of my neck, attempting to focus on something else.
Anything else .
“Pops mentioned you have a grocery list? If you wanna give it to me, I’ll make a run into town for everything you need. I’ll take your stuff to the house and give you a tour when I’m back.”
“You don’t want some lunch first?” he said as he handed over a folded piece of paper. I opened it to find it was filled with all types of spices and condiments that I’d never even heard of before.
Wasn’t sage a flower? When did they start using it for cooking?
I stuffed the list in my pocket without question. I could barely cook, so it wasn’t my place to question the chef.
“I’ll grab something quick in town,” I replied. I didn’t want to spend any more time with him than I had to at that moment. I needed some time away to calm down and bury the embarrassing memories of last night.
I turned to go but paused before I left. Why did I suddenly feel like a hamster running inside a wheel, doing the same things over again?
“Also, thanks for helping me out there. You saved me from an awkward situation just now with that group of ladies,” I said, because I had manners drilled into me.
A smile that was too bright for my liking appeared on his face. “Andy to the rescue two days in a row, huh? It seems saving you is part of my routine now too,” he teased.
I groaned. “I thought we were going to pretend last night didn’t happen?”
He mimed zipping his lips, but his damn smile was still stretched wide across his face. I waved goodbye and ran the hell out of there. I didn’t even stop when Dad shot me a curious look at how frantically I was trying to escape the B&B.
It was only when I was inside my car, and all buckled up, that I let myself stop for a second to think. I banged my head on my steering wheel. Maybe if I did that hard enough, I could smack the last twenty-four hours out of existence.
A second later, I didn’t feel like I shifted into a different timeline, so the whole head-banging thing probably didn’t work.
It was fine. Everything would be fine.
I’d take the afternoon to myself, get everything on the list, and come back acting like nothing was wrong.
I would not overreact!
But first things first, food.
I grabbed a burger at our local diner—which thankfully was served quickly—then headed to the local grocery store to do some shopping. It was a few hours later that I finished getting everything on the list and once again filled my car with bags. My poor car and I were getting a workout today.
Dinner at the B&B was busier than lunch, with some guests tired from a long day out and wanting something chill. The -ta group was once again in the dining room having an early dinner.
This time, they’d dragged some of our other guests to their table. It was a young couple who’d checked in for a long weekend trip. They listened to Marta with amusement as she recounted her youthful adventures.
I quickly slipped into the kitchen with the bags, not wanting to catch their attention. I was usually the social butterfly, always down to have conversations with our guests.
People were interesting, and I enjoyed hearing about their life experiences, but today, I was all peopled out. It didn’t help that my body still felt like lead.
I was never drinking that much again.
“Oh, hey. Welcome back,” Andy said, looking up from his workspace when I walked into the kitchen. He had something simmering on the burner, making the whole place smell like a cozy dream.
“Hey, what are you cooking up?” I asked as I dropped the bags on an empty counter.
“Just some chicken noodle soup. You looked tired earlier, and I figured you might still be a little hungover from ‘ the night we won’t speak of ,’” he said. That teasing smile was back again, but I couldn’t even be mad.
“You made soup for me?” I asked. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But it’s slow tonight, and I had all the ingredients,” he said. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel, ladled some soup in a bowl, added a bit of green garnish on top, and then handed it to me.
“That’s so fucking sweet. I don’t even know what to say.”
This gesture was so unexpected that I didn’t know how to react. So I accepted the bowl he held out and filled my senses with the mouthwatering aroma. How did he make it smell so good?
I discreetly wipe away my drool, hoping I wasn’t, once again, making a fool of myself in front of this man.
Andy chuckled and handed me a spoon. I settled on a stool that was tucked in a corner. “Your reaction is all the thanks I need. Though, if you have some time, I’d love it if you could look over the tentative menu I created. I want to make sure I don’t have anything too out of pocket.”
“That, I can do,” I said, then dug in. I’d had chicken noodle soup before, but his soup made all the previous ones pale in comparison. I never knew soup could be so healing and flavorful at the same time.
A moan sounded in the kitchen, and it was only when I heard Andy’s chuckle that I realized the sound was coming from me.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he commented as he continued putting the grocery items away. I tried to hide my blush by gulping down the rest of the liquid. “Want another bowl?”
“Yes, please,” I said sheepishly. “But I can get it myself.”
“It’s fine. Sit. You’ve been running around all day,” he said. He snatched my bowl before I could get out of my seat and refilled it for me.
We didn’t speak as I worked on my second bowl of soup. Instead, I watched him move around the kitchen. He moved fluidly, as though this wasn’t his first time here.
While he wasn’t my usual type, I’d always been attracted to confident men, and the way he moved around like he owned the place had heat pooling in the pit of my stomach. Or maybe that was just the hot soup warming me up.
I patted my belly, warm and content, after finishing my second bowl. Andy had finished putting the rest of the groceries away as well and came over with the menu he’d put together.
We spent a few minutes discussing the week’s menu, tweaking it so that there were some familiar dishes along with the new ones.
My dads weren’t lying when they said Andy knew what he was doing. The menu he put together was fit for one of those snazzy places you saw in the city, which had me wondering what he was doing working at our tiny place instead of a famous restaurant in New York.
I was never the type to curb my curiosity, so I asked him. “With your skill and experience, what are you doing here?”
He looked surprised by my question, and in that split second, I wondered if I’d fucked up by reminding him he could do so much better than a job in a little business like ours.
Way to put my foot in my mouth when our B&B really needed him.
“Quite honestly, I thought running my own kitchen would be good for my resume. This position offered me creative freedom that most other places don’t give. And I plan to make this B&B the best eatery around these parts while I’m here,” he said with his chest puffed up.
I smiled. At least that meant any awkward experience with me hadn’t scared him off and he was planning to stick around for the rest of his contract.
“Well, if your other food is anything like your chicken noodle soup, there’s no competition. Don’t tell anyone I said this, especially the people from town, but that soup was the best thing I’ve put in my mouth.”
Silence followed that statement.
“I didn’t mean it like that! Shit, sorry. I must still be fucked up from last night,” I quickly added .
Seriously, I needed to find a hole to bury myself in for the day because I was saying all the wrong things.
“It’s okay. I know what you meant,” Andy said with a laugh. There was a twinkle in his eye that told me he found me amusing and wasn’t off-put by my randomness. Which made me think he was a good person.
Frankly, who cooked soup for a person they barely knew if they didn’t have a kind soul?
Maybe having him as a roommate wouldn’t be so bad after all?