A Very Grumpy Chef (Wolf Valley: Grumps #17)

Chapter 1

Coco

“All right, that’s a wrap, guys!” I call to the models, letting my camera drop.

The couple sighs, smiling excitedly as they disappear to change back into their street clothes.

I get started on packing up my lights and props. I’ve been a photographer for most of my life. It’s been my career for six years, and it was hard going at first. Not many people wanted to work with an eighteen-year-old, but I’ve built a name for myself since then.

“Need a hand?” Antonio asks as he tugs his shirt over his head.

“No, I’ve got it. Thanks, though. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, can’t wait to see the shots.” He waves as he leaves.

I pack up the last of my things and head to my car. After loading everything up, I make the short drive home to my apartment. When I park out front, I stare up at the dark windows and sigh.

I’m still getting used to coming home to an empty apartment. I lived with my best friend, Pearl, for years, but she met the love of her life and moved out a few weeks ago.

I love seeing Pearl so happy with her hunky veterinarian boss, Wells, and I’ve always been more of a loner than she is. I need time to myself to decompress and recharge my social battery, so at first, having the place to myself felt like a luxury.

Turns out there’s a difference between wanting to be alone and coming home to nobody.

And lately, the apartment has been feeling a little too quiet.

Maybe I should find a new roommate. Or maybe it’s time to finally try dating.

All my friends are happily in love and settled down with their soulmates.

It makes me want to find my person too, but I’m worried that could be hard because I value my alone time, and it’s always seemed like having a boyfriend would ruin that.

My friends’ partners are perfect for them, but to me, they seem clingy.

I don’t want to hang out with my boyfriend twenty-four seven.

I want time for my friends, my interests, my work, and myself.

It seems like it would be hard to find someone who would be okay with not being my absolute number one priority.

I toss my keys onto the entryway table and set my camera down gently on my desk. I’ll work on editing the photos later tonight. Right now, I need to find something to eat.

I hum to myself as I head into the kitchen and over to the fridge. My stomach growls as I open the freezer door, and I groan when I see I’m out of my frozen meals.

I close the freezer door and rest my forehead against it. “I have to try to cook now.”

I’m terrible at cooking. Always have been. I was lucky that Pearl liked to cook, so she handled our meals and I cleaned the apartment. It was a compromise that worked for both of us. Now she’s gone, I’ve been surviving on microwave meals, sandwiches, and cereal.

Maybe I should order a pizza and make two or three meals out of it.

My stomach growls again, and I decide I can’t wait that long to eat.

I open the pantry and pull out two packets of Ramen, tossing them onto the counter next to the stove. My palms are sweaty as I grab a pot and nervously fill it with water.

“Okay, I’ve got this. Just boil the water, add the noodles, and voila! Dinner will be served. I can do this.”

I try to convince myself I have everything under control as I turn the stove on and set the pot on the burner.

“That should take a few minutes, right?” I mumble to myself.

I decide screw it and hurry into my bedroom to get changed. I change out of my work clothes and into my pajamas. When I head back into the kitchen, the water still isn’t boiling, so I run back to the bathroom and wash my face.

I’m not sure what happens or how the fire even starts, but when I run back to the kitchen, smoke is filling the room. A second later, the fire alarm goes off.

“Shit!” I grab the kitchen towel and wave it at the fire alarm.

That’s when I see the discarded paper towel next to the burner. It’s on fire. I panic, grab the kitchen faucet sprayer, and douse half my kitchen in water.

I’m trying to turn off the smoke alarm when a loud, annoyed banging rattles my front door. I don’t want to answer or face the angry person on my doorstep, but I know I have to.

Taking a deep breath, I paste on a wide smile as I swing the front door open.

My smile drops, along with my jaw, when I lock eyes with the guy standing there. He’s the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Black hair hangs over his forehead but is cropped close to the sides over his ears. His dark blue eyes spark with irritation as he glares down at me.

“Hi,” I say brightly, pretending everything is fine and my kitchen isn’t filled with smoke and covered in water.

The smoke alarm finally turns off.

“What the hell is going on in here? Are you aware that you’re interrupting everyone’s evenings?” he snaps.

I step back, away from him and his ire. My cheeks heat with a blush. I ignore my embarrassment and open my mouth to explain what happened, but the man cuts across me before I can speak.

“No one wants to hear your smoke alarm blaring. You know that’s not a timer, right?” he growls.

I blink rapidly to hide my tears. “I—”

“For the love of all that is holy, keep it down, and try to be mindful of other people, okay? No one likes an entitled neighbor.”

With that, he turns on his heel and marches across the hall to his apartment. The door slams closed behind him.

I stand in the open doorway for a beat. That’s when I see the crowd gathered on the street at the bottom of the stairs. They’re all staring up at me, their eyes alight with new town gossip.

I duck back into my apartment, closing and locking the door behind me. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.

Returning to the kitchen, I take in the disaster.

Water drips from the cream cabinet doors and pools across the floor.

One of the plants on the windowsill is listing sideways, thoroughly drowned.

The paper towel is now a black, soggy lump beside the stove, and there are wet scorch marks across my counter.

The tears fall then.

I take a deep breath as I get started on cleaning up the mess. When I’m finished, I’m no longer hungry so I decide to go to bed without eating.

My mind keeps replaying my new neighbor’s words as I lie in bed. I decide then and there to avoid the grumpy man like the plague from now on.

I wish Pearl was here. Then this would have never happened. I should find a new roommate, or maybe find myself a handsome man who loves to cook and always does it for me.

I smile at the thought and let the image carry me off to sleep.