27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Lis
A s I ride the elevator up to my floor, drunk off the mojitos and Spencer’s lips, I think I’ve made a huge mistake. Though whether that mistake was kissing him or not sleeping with him, I have no clue.
#
Thankfully, the wedding keeps me so busy that kissing Spencer plays in the background of my mind instead of the foreground until I leave for the night. The cooking and cleaning is all done by nine, but he has to stay until the event is over. I consider briefly going to find him to say goodbye, but I’m not sure what to say. Or what I’ll do. I find Vic instead and tell her I’m leaving.
“You’re not coming in tomorrow, right?” she asks.
“Right. Since there are no events tomorrow or Monday, Tina and I are going to both come in Monday and do an inventory and some prep for the upcoming events.”
Since Sophie’s birthday is tomorrow, I’d already cleared it with Vic to move things around so I could have the day off.
“I want to say thank you again for agreeing to work these next two weeks straight,” Vic says. “With all the people coming through here for the Pride events, weddings, and the Celebration of Lights this next little while, I’m glad we’ll have our head chef on hand.”
“Of course,” I say. “I’ve loved the events. These last few months have been exactly what I was hoping they’d be.”
“So you’re liking it here then?”
I laugh. “I love it here.”
“Good. Spencer mentioned that you’d like to make some changes to the menu.”
I falter, blinking. “Oh. I, um… well, yes. I think the menu is good. Great, actually. But it’s just not mine.”
Vic nods. “I understand. Let’s finish off this wedding season. When it’s all calmed down a bit, you can tell me what you’d like to change.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s your kitchen, Lis. I hired you for a reason. And you’ve proved you know what you’re doing. We’ll set up a meeting in September and figure out what you want to do.”
I squeal and wrap my arms around her in a squeezing hug. Then I jumped back. “I’m sorry. I should have asked to hug you first.”
Vic laughs. “It’s fine. Get out of here. I’ll see you on Monday.”
I walk home, excitement still thrumming through me, and after a shower, I pull on Spencer’s hoodie and my comfiest pyjama pants and go back into the kitchen. Daze and Sophie are out for the night with their friends to celebrate Sophie’s birthday. I’d been invited, but I knew I wouldn’t want to go out after working, especially with all the days I’d be on coming up and the cake I still need to bake.
I take Cerberus out for a quick walk to the dog park and back. When we get home, he flops down on his bed and falls asleep. I turn on some music, pull out the ingredients I need and my stand mixer, and get to work. While I measure and mix, my mind strays to what I haven’t let it think about all day. Spencer’s arms around me, his lips on mine, his heat sinking into me. I’d felt the erection pressing into my belly as we danced and kissed.
Then his question, Will you regret this in the morning?
I still don’t know the answer.
My class at the culinary institute had been made up of almost fifty per cent women. Yet, of that class, only a handful of us have found positions in Vancouver where we could actually lead a kitchen. And many of us, myself included, had our reputations called into question after relationships had soured in the workplace. If that happened again, I’d have to start all over. I thought of Vic’s offer to let me change the menu. I was so close to exactly what I’d been working toward. I couldn’t mess it up now.
On the other hand, no one had ever made me feel the way Spencer did. After a few months working with him, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up the “just friends” fa?ade. He’s never once pushed me for more, letting me set the pace. And that just makes me want him more.
I carefully pour water into the roasting pan with the cake in its spring-form in the middle and my sister and Sophie come home.
They change and Sophie says good night, but Daze meets me in the kitchen as I wash dishes.
“How’s it going?” she asks, sitting on a chair at our little dining table and pulling her knees up to her chest.
“Not bad. Cake needs to bake for another sixty minutes. Then cool for about thirty. I’ll get the mousse and whipped cream made tomorrow.”
“Thank you for making it. I know how much you hate baking.”
“I don’t mind when it’s for someone I love.”
She watches me for a while, and then says, “You’re wearing the hoodie again.”
I look down at it, though I’m not sure why. I know exactly what she’s talking about. I’d put an apron over top, and since I’m not using flour, it’s still clean. When I bake, flour tends to get everywhere.
I finish with the dishes and wipe down the mixer and then the counter. Daze waits me out.
“I kissed him last night. Or maybe he kissed me? We’d both been drinking. It was… It shouldn’t have happened.” I catch my lower lip between my teeth, biting down hard enough that it hurts. “He asked me if I would regret it if we slept together again and I said I didn’t know.”
“And now that you’ve obsessed about it all day? What do you think?”
I cast her a look. I don’t ask how she knows I’ve been obsessing about it. Then I sigh. “I still don’t know. What if we get together and then it goes bad? The four of them are so close, it would be awkward and terrible. Today, Vic said we can set a meeting up in September, after wedding season is over, to discuss if I wanted to make changes to the menu. She said it’s my kitchen, Daze. Mine. And if word got out that I was sleeping with him, people would think I only got the job at Blue Vista because of it.”
“You don’t know that it would go bad. As for the rest.” She shrugs. “Fuck what people think. If you like him, I say go for it.” She stands. “You going to bed now?”
I check the time. “The cake still needs another twenty minutes to bake. Then it needs to cool.”
“Let it cool in the fridge.”
I look at her, aghast. “If I put it in the fridge before it cools, it’ll crack.”
“Will it still taste good?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been a heathen who puts it in the fridge before it cools. Go to bed. Leave the baking to the professionals.”
She laughs and kisses my cheek. “All right. You’ve got this. But just one more thing? I think the only one standing in the way of you and Spencer is you.”
#
The birthday dinner with my and Daze’s parents is fun. Sophie’s parents live on Vancouver Island and don’t make it to Vancouver often. She and Daze have a trip planned soon to visit them, to celebrate Sophie’s birthday and the engagement.
The cake turns out perfectly and since there are five of us, we each get a piece with three left over for me, Daze, and Sophie.
I bring my extra piece to work the next day.
Tina and I work on inventory and when I tell her to take a break for lunch, I go to Spencer’s office. He’s here doing a similar thing to what Tina and I are doing, making final preparations for the next two weeks. Other than Tina and Vic—who both left for lunch recently—we’re the only ones on site today.
I’m feeling jittery with nerves at seeing him again. The memory of his soft lips and hard body pressed against mine makes me stop for a moment and catch my breath.
“Hey,” I say when I get to his door.
He looks up from his computer, a smile breaking out on his face.
“Hey, firecracker. What brings you here? I thought you were doing inventory.”
“I am. But we stopped for lunch. I brought you something.” I pull the cake from behind my back with a flourish, setting it on his desk. “Voila. I have to say, it’s a masterpiece. My best work yet.”
“Really?” He takes the fork from me but doesn’t move to take a bite. “Where’s yours?”
I shrug. “I had mine last night. This is my extra piece. You said you wanted to call in a favour to have some, so…”
He gets out of his chair and moves around his desk to sit in one of the guest spots, motioning for me to take the other. “Then we have to share.”
I sit down, watching as he takes his first bite.
“Oh my god this is amazing,” he says, sliding the fork into the cake for a second bite.
“I thought you said we were going to share.”
“That was before I tried it.”
I roll my lips together to keep my smile from getting too big. I love feeding people. Their reactions to my food is my favourite part about cooking. He fills the fork for a third time, holding it out for me. I open my mouth and he feeds me before I can think about what’s happening. The intimacy of the situation settles in me as he pulls the fork from between my lips. I’m watching him for his reaction.
Though his eyes burn, he doesn’t say anything about it and just takes another bite.
“Spencer,” I say, not entirely sure where I’m going. “About the other night.”
“Nope.”
“No?”
“I said I’d wait, and I will. So unless you’re going to tell me to fuck you against my desk right now, not another word.”
He holds out the fork for me again.
I can’t breathe as the image of us fucking against his desk plays in my mind. I’m suddenly hot and I’m certain my panties are now drenched. My mind is screaming at me that we’re alone in the building. I open my mouth and he feeds me a second bite of cake.
The vanilla mousse is sweet and fluffy mixing perfectly with the creamy tanginess of the cheesecake. It really is one of my best creations. He takes his next bite and I watch as his eyes close, savouring the taste before swallowing. I’m gripping the arms of the chair so hard my hands hurt. But I just sit there and wait for him to give me another bite of cheesecake, my whole body vibrating with tension.
He only looks at me when he’s feeding me, but I can’t take my eyes off him. We’re down to the last couple of bites and he holds the fork out for me, turning so that his whole body is facing me. I note the way his cock is pressing into his zipper. He’s not as unaffected as he’s trying to seem.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I might fuck you against my desk anyway,” he says, sliding the fork out of my mouth.
I swallow. “Looking at you like what?”
“Like you think I taste better than this cake,” he says, before eating the last bite.
“You do.”
The words are out before I can stop them, but I don’t try to take them back.
He sets the fork down with exaggerated care and then stands, pulling me up with him. He leans toward me, very slowly, his eyes searching mine the whole time. I don’t move away. When he kisses me, it’s with the same exaggerated care he used to set the fork down. Like he’s holding onto his control with an iron grip.
We don’t hold each other. We don’t melt together. Fuck, I want to.
He ends the kiss as slowly as he began it, dragging his thumb along my lower lip.
“Go back to work, firecracker,” he says, his voice husky. “Thank you for the cake.”
I don’t move, my heart hammering in my chest.
He asks the question with his eyes. If I lean in now, if I wrap my arms around him and kiss him the way I want to, he’ll take me here, on his desk.
“Hey, Lis. You ready to get back to it?” Tina calls.
The moment shatters. Spencer turns away from me, passing me the plate and sitting behind his desk once more. Tina leans into the office just as he sits, sending me a questioning look.
“Yeah. I’m ready.” I turn away from him and walk back to the kitchen, the heat that had been in his eyes keeping me warm for the rest of the day.