Chapter 8 Drew
T he farmer’s market was alive with color and sound—vibrant stalls spilling over with fresh produce, the air thick with the earthy scents of herbs and ripe fruits. Normally, this kind of energy would ignite Drew’s culinary imagination, but today, his focus was elsewhere.
“Where is she?” he muttered, his eyes scanning the crowd for a flash of pink hair.
The show had decided to film a segment at the market, challenging the contestants to create dishes using only local, seasonal ingredients. It was a perfect opportunity to pull Kelsi aside, to finally clear the air after their intense cooking session at his apartment.
His mind kept circling back to that evening—the way Kelsi’s eyes had lit up as she explored his spice rack, how seamlessly they’d bounced ideas off each other. That night had stirred something deep within him, something he hadn’t felt in years, and now it refused to settle. But that same connection brought complications he wasn’t ready for—complications that could ruin everything if they let this go too far.
He swore under his breath, pushing through the bustling crowd. Kelsi had slipped out of his grasp earlier, and now all he could think about was finding her again. Just over the heads of shoppers, Drew caught sight of her pink hair, a beacon amidst the sea of vendors and customers.
There she was—cradling a bunch of fresh herbs, laughing softly with one of the contestants.
Drew’s stomach clenched unexpectedly. Seeing her like this, so at ease, only made the knot inside him twist tighter. How had she become so... integral to his world, so quickly?
He clenched his fists at his sides, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He needed to talk to her. He needed to clear the air, to put some distance between them before things spiraled out of control.
Just as he started toward her, a voice interrupted him. “Chef Carlson!”
Drew stifled a groan as Jake, one of the younger contestants, bounded up to him, holding a misshapen heirloom tomato.
“What do you think of these?”
“They’re... great,” Drew muttered distractedly, barely glancing at the tomato. “Lots of flavor. Excuse me.” He sidestepped the contestant, his gaze locked on Kelsi, but just as he closed the distance between them, another obstacle appeared.
“Drew!” Evan’s perfectly styled figure blocked his path, his trademark grin plastered across his face. “Just the man I was looking for.”
Not now. Not now, not now. “What is it, Evan?” Drew’s tone was clipped, but Evan, as usual, seemed oblivious.
“I’ve got this brilliant idea for next week’s challenge,” Evan began, clearly unfazed by Drew’s growing impatience. “Molecular gastronomy, but with a—”
“Not now, Evan,” Drew snapped, his patience finally slipping. He tried to move around him, but Evan shifted to block his way again.
“Just hear me out,” Evan pressed, undeterred. “This could really elevate the—”
“I said not now,” Drew growled, frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Over Evan’s shoulder, Kelsi was starting to drift further away, her attention focused on the contestant next to her. The sight twisted something sharp inside him, and he felt the sudden, urgent need to close the distance between them before it was too late.
Evan’s smile faltered, surprise flickering in his eyes. “I... I just thought—”
Drew exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry. Let’s talk about it later, okay? Just not now.”
Without waiting for a response, he brushed past Evan and started weaving through the crowd, his attention solely on Kelsi. His mind raced with the words he’d rehearsed, the excuses he’d made for why this couldn’t happen between them. It was dangerous. It was unprofessional. It was everything he shouldn’t want—but he did. He wanted it more than anything, and that scared the hell out of him.
Just as he was about to reach her, a sound stopped him in his tracks—a soft, lilting laugh that sent warmth spreading through his chest. Kelsi’s laugh. She was standing in a quieter corner of the market, chatting with an elderly vendor, cradling a bunch of fragrant basil in her arms. The sight of her, so full of life and enthusiasm, made something inside him crack.
Drew’s heart gave a heavy, uneven thud as he took a step toward her. How had it come to this? How had she gone from just another contestant to someone he couldn’t stop thinking about? It was like she’d slipped past all his defenses without him even noticing.
"...and my mom used to make this amazing pesto," Kelsi was saying, her voice light and animated. "She’d add just a touch of lemon zest to brighten it up. It was—oh!”
She noticed him then, her smile faltering slightly, the spark in her eyes dimming. Drew’s stomach twisted at the sudden shift. Had he pushed her too far?
“Chef Carlson,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “Did you need something?”
The formality stung, a reminder of the distance he’d unintentionally created. “I was hoping we could talk,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “About the other day.”
Kelsi’s cheeks flushed pink, and she glanced down at the basil in her hands. “Oh, that’s really not necessary. We should probably get back to the—”
“Please,” Drew interrupted, surprising even himself with the urgency in his voice. “Just give me a minute.”
She hesitated, her brows knitting together in confusion, but finally, she nodded. “Okay.”
They stepped away from the vendor, an awkward silence stretching between them. Drew cleared his throat, his mind spinning. How was he supposed to explain this? How was he supposed to tell her that he wanted her, but he couldn’t have her—that he was terrified of what this could mean for both of them?
“So, your mom’s pesto recipe,” he blurted, grasping for anything to say. “It sounds... interesting.”
Kelsi blinked, clearly thrown by the sudden change of subject. “Oh, um, yeah. It was her signature dish. She used to make it every Sunday.”
“Used to?” Drew asked softly, noting the way Kelsi’s voice softened.
Her smile turned wistful, a shadow passing over her face. “She passed away a few years ago. Cooking her recipes... it’s how I stay close to her, you know?”
The vulnerability in her eyes hit Drew like a punch to the gut. He understood that feeling all too well—the desperate need to hold onto something, to keep a piece of the ones you’ve lost. All the walls he’d built around himself, the distance he’d kept between his emotions and his work—it all started to crumble in that moment.
“I do know,” he said quietly, his throat tightening. “My dad... he taught me everything I know about cooking. When he died, I thought the best way to honor him was to perfect his recipes, to follow his techniques exactly. But now...”
Kelsi’s eyes widened, her surprise evident. “And now?”
Drew swallowed, feeling more exposed than he had in years. “Now, I’m starting to think maybe the best way to honor him would be to take what he taught me and make it my own. To keep creating, like he always encouraged me to do.”
Kelsi’s soft smile warmed him from the inside out. “I think that sounds perfect.”
They stood there, a breath between them, the air heavy with unspoken words. Drew’s pulse quickened, his gaze drifting down to her lips. He hesitated, battling the surge of desire that rose inside him. This was wrong. This was dangerous. But Kelsi’s eyes softened, her lips parting just slightly as she met his gaze.
Drew’s heart slammed against his chest as he stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm lightly. She didn’t pull away. His breath caught in his throat, his resolve slipping with every second. Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss.
For a heartbeat, the world around them vanished. There was only her—the warmth of her lips, the softness of her touch as her hand slid to his chest. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, a confession neither of them had the words for.
When they finally pulled apart, Drew’s chest heaved, his mind reeling. They stood there in silence, the weight of what had just happened settling between them. He knew this changed everything.
But as Kelsi looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching, Drew realized something else—whatever came next, he didn’t regret it.