Chapter Five
Dani
When I walked into Ardena this time, I didn’t wait for an invite. I marched straight to the bar and took a seat. I was here to sample some dishes, give my feedback so the menus could be finalized, and get out. If Jase wasn’t the one who served me, all the better.
Just his name had my stomach churning with a nauseating mix of embarrassment and frustration, and only partly because of what had happened last week.
So he was weirded out that I’d dated his brother. Or maybe just that I’d brought it up nine years later in the most awkward way possible. My honesty wasn’t something I was going to let myself be ashamed of. Neither was my history with Alec.
Yes, the dreams were annoying as hell, and super fucking inconvenient when they dredged up feelings I would rather remained in the past.
But I wasn’t delusional. I didn’t think Alec and I were soulmates. I didn’t believe for a second that if his marriage suddenly ended with no baby in the picture (which, to be clear, I was not hoping for), and he magically appeared in front of me that we would be each other’s happily ever after.
I didn’t know Alec anymore. People changed a lot in nine years—I had. And there was no reason to believe the person I was now would in any way be right for the person Alec had become or vice versa.
Dream Alec was a fantasy to me, the personification of my unmet hopes and desires, which was where the real problem came in…because apparently, now so was Jase.
A very physical, sweaty, toe-curling fantasy that had you waking up rubbing your legs together, breath short, just like I had this morning, pulse pounding in places that made you wish you’d stayed asleep even thirty seconds longer to draw it out. I shifted in my seat, neck heating as the images replayed in my mind.
A throat cleared.
I snapped out of my haze, breaths a little shallow, to find Jase standing in all his tall, rugged glory, holding a plate of something that smelled un believably good, his white chef coat tight across his chest, sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms. I couldn’t even blame my brain for dreaming of him last night. A hot guy who cooked? That was the fantasy of every straight girl I knew.
If only that made it easier to look him in the eye.
Thankfully, he seemed to be avoiding my gaze, which gave the warmth in my face and the heat between my legs time to cool while he set the plate in front of me and placed a roll of silverware beside it.
“Is that a carrot?” I asked, staring at the swirls of color arranged on my plate into what was truly a work of art, a long orange shape sitting in the center.
“Yes,” he said gruffly.
I met his stare, brows drawn. “You want to put carrots on the menu?”
His jaw tightened. “What’s wrong with carrots?”
“Nothing. Just when you were going off about only cooking mind-blowing food I didn’t envision carrots.”
He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “Try it.”
I glared at his smug confidence but rolled out the silverware and cut a piece of carrot, pausing to breathe in the aromas floating up from the dish. It really did smell incredible.
Then the glazed bite landed on my tongue, and a moan practically exploded from my chest. “Holy shit,” I breathed, too caught off guard by what was happening in my mouth to process my own words. “This is really good.”
I may have heard a huff of laughter, but I couldn’t be sure because my eyes had fallen shut, the savory goodness coating my tongue and the subtlest hint of sweetness that lay beneath it the only things I cared about anymore. When the flavor started to fade, I went back for another bite, making sure to get some of every component on my fork. I managed to hold in my next moan, but barely.
“What the hell did you do to this carrot to make it taste so good?” I asked. I wasn’t trying to flatter him, but he seemed to soften at the words all the same, his shoulders lowering an inch.
“They’re roasted carrots with almond and pine nut praline, arugula chimichurri, and golden raisins,” he said. “I thought it could be the first course for the gala.”
“Done.” This was a thousand times better than the coconut shrimp from the hotel’s menu.
He nodded once, then turned for the kitchen and left me to my love affair with my new favorite vegetable.
The rest of the tasting went pretty much the same way. He came out with a dish that looked like it belonged in a museum rather than on a dining table, and I lost upper brain function from how good it tasted. Then he revealed it was made with something mundane like a potato or broccoli stalk, and I lost my mind all over again.
We didn’t speak much outside of discussing the dishes. I wasn’t sure what to say. He’d made it clear he had no interest in being buddies, and given my mind’s unconscious after-dark activities, it was probably best I limited my interactions with the Beauford boys.
I was scraping the last traces of grilled nectarine and burnt sugar ice cream from my plate, only barely restraining myself from throwing aside my fork and straight up licking off what was left, when Jase cleared his throat again. He’d stayed behind the bar while I ate this course instead of heading back to the kitchen like he had all the others, which I took to mean this was the last dish of the afternoon. I tried not to let my disappointment show.
He had one hand resting on his hip while the other rubbed his jaw, strong fingers scraping over his brown scruff. “Look,” he started. I braced myself for a blunt remark.
“Oh good, Dani, you’re still here,” Jillian said from behind me.
She scurried across the dining room in a chic red dress that emphasized the auburn tone of her dark hair and the rose color on her cheeks. With her heels, her eyes were level with mine when she reached my stool.
“Hi, Jillian,” I said as I placed my spoon on the officially empty plate. I sighed as I pushed it away. Goodbye, sweet, sweet heaven .
“How was the menu tasting? I trust Jase has been on his best behavior.” Her tone held a subtle scolding as she flashed him a look. He grunted in response, and I could make out the monumental effort he used to hold back an eye roll. It was impressive, actually.
“It was amazing,” I answered, focusing on Jillian. “You were right about Jase. He’s incredibly talented.”
I kept my gaze locked on her as I said it, avoiding Jase so I wouldn’t have to acknowledge the statement as the compliment it was, even though a part of me was glad he was there to hear it. In a way, it wasn’t even a compliment; it was a fact. He’d cooked the best food I’d ever eaten, and he deserved to hear me say it once. I didn’t plan on doing it again. His ego didn’t need the assist.
Jillian gave a pleased smile, pride rising in her cheeks. “Excellent. We’ll make sure this is the best damn fundraiser this city has ever seen.”
A small knot formed beneath my ribs that hoped she was right. There was no reason she shouldn’t be, as long as no one messed up too completely.
As long as I didn’t.
The food in my stomach no longer sat quite so well.
“Speaking of which,” she continued. “I just got off the phone with Talia, and we thought it would be good to reach out to a few of the local media outlets I have connections with to generate some buzz for the event. It would be a boost for both HBC and Ardena, and maybe it could even bring in a few more donations. We wrote a quick press release, but Talia wanted you to review it before I send it out. What do you think?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, that sounds great. You’re right; the more people we get talking about the event and the clinic, the better.”
Jillian clapped her hands in a flurry. “Perfect. You stay right there, and I’ll go forward you the draft.” She scuttled toward the stairs, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“She’s like a kid,” Jase said with fondness in his voice.
Our gazes caught, our smiles matching, and for a second, it was like it had been last week before I’d said anything about Alec and taken a sledgehammer to the gentle comradery forming between us.
I broke our stare, turning my attention to my bag to pull out my laptop. “If you could get me the details for the finalized cocktail menu by next week, that’ll give me time to start designing its layout while you move on to finalizing the other three.”
“Sure, no problem. I?—”
“I just sent it. Did it go through?”
Jase let out a heavy sigh as Jillian reemerged, marching over with determined strides.
I refreshed my email. “Got it.”
She pulled out the barstool next to mine and shimmied onto the seat as I opened the attachment. I stole a glimpse at Jase, who pressed his lips together and gave a slow nod as if accepting his dismissal before picking up my empty dessert plate and withdrawing to the kitchen.
I watched him go, struck by the odd sense that not all of him wanted to leave.
Even odder was how not all of me wanted him to either.