Chapter 19
CREW
“So, how often does Mrs. Vanna help out?”
“Whenever Hilary or I need her. She’s a fiery older woman who never had kids. Loves Addie like her own,” I say, guiding Juniper through a few minor obstacles before reaching my surprise. “Here, watch your step. There’s a box right in front of you.”
“And how am I supposed to know that with a blindfold over my eyes, hotshot?”
Oh, right.
Reaching for her hand, I carefully stand behind her before asking “Is it okay if I lift you? It’ll be just for a second. I need to get you over this crowded space.”
“Mhm.”
With one arm at the back of her knees and the other lifting under her arms, I carry Juniper over the storage boxes. Someone is going to get a mouthful first thing tomorrow for leaving this shit in the middle of the walkway. They’re lucky it’s me who found it.
However, I’m grateful for the minor inconvenience now because Juniper’s head falls to my shoulder like it’s second nature, finding comfort in my arms even if for only a moment. She’s becoming more relaxed around me. We both are with each other.
Once we’re a few feet away, I place Juniper on her feet and help her stand. “Here you go. Almost there,” I whisper, and I’m not sure why. It’s just us here for the night.
Pushing through the heavy metal door, a rush of cold air hits us, Juniper’s loud shiver echoing from behind me. “Okay, now I really have no idea where we are,” she says. “Crew? Where are you?”
Her arm reaches for me, and fuck, it feels good to be the only one who can help her. “Right here, Doc. Hold my hand.”
Delicate fingers link with mine, my chest tightening in the best way possible.
Bringing her to stand against one of the metal tables, I shift her around before bringing my palms to the sides of her arms. “You ready?” I whisper, leaning into the side of her face.
Right here, I get the incredible pleasure of watching Juniper’s silky skin flush with goosebumps.
One would think they’re the result of being cold, but it’s actually quite the opposite. I like to think it’s my words, combined with the heat of my breath ghosting across her skin, that caused the physical reaction.
For such a resilient woman, she’s delicate when it comes to me.
The rise and fall of her chest almost sends me. “I’m ready.”
I lift the makeshift blindfold from her eyes, revealing our prime location. “Voilà.” I stand in front of her with my arms stretched wide. “So, what do you think? Was it what you expected?”
“Not really. It’s a kitchen,” she giggles, unable to mask her doubt. “A really big kitchen.” I cross my arms at my chest and kick back against the table across from her. “Keep going,” I mutter, likely more excited than she is.
I’m transfixed as her perpetually blue eyes scan the kitchen of my restaurant like she knows where she is, yet it hasn’t registered yet.
“Boone,” she mutters confidently in one breath after noticing the framed awards along the wall. She’s not close enough to read them, but I love that a visual of my success is what triggered her recollection. “This is the kitchen of the restaurant. Are we allowed to be back here?” Juniper panics.
I chuckle. “I’m the boss, Doc. We can do whatever the fuck we want.”
That may have come out dirtier than planned, and she seems to think so, too.
“Why do I keep forgetting that?” she laughs, and a rosy-pink blush creeps up her cheeks. The ripeness is a stark contrast to her all-black wardrobe and obsidian dark hair. “It’s like you live two different lives, Crew Briggs.”
“More like three. Father. Remember?” I hold up a finger. “Now, ready for the main event?”
“Ohhh, do we get to play in the kitchen, too?”
Goddamn it. We’re spiraling. Itching for this attempt at friendship to be the thread that unravels us. And fuck, would I ever like to unravel everything there is to know, see, taste, hear, and feel about Dr. Juniper Wilde. All the human body’s senses knitted together.
I can’t help myself, a hard-earned groan filling the space between us. A space I need to occupy more of because we’re too far apart. Friends can be close, right? I step forward, my patience wearing thin. “Don’t ask me something you don’t want an honest answer to, Juniper.”
I track the swallow at her throat as I draw near. “You know that’s not what I meant,” she whispers.
I blink. “I’m having a hard time understanding either of our intentions lately.”
“Maybe we’re doing a bad job at creating boundaries.” She’s right. The lines are blurring.
I stop mere inches away, towering over her with an undoubted amount of pride, affection, and vulnerable need. However, affection will take home the gold medal for today. “Maybe,” I mutter, my voice low. “Or maybe we both just need to stuff our faces with dessert and not think for a little while.”
A slow smile creeps up her cheeks. “Please don’t tell me you heard my stomach growling from there?”
I grin, feeling happiness bone deep for the first time in ages. “Kinda hard not to. So, what do you say? Wanna eat our body weight in the most moist, mouthwatering, and world-renowned cake together, friend?”
Taking a leisurely step forward, Juniper crowds me with a firm hand to my chest. I feel the spirited fire of her heart channel through mine like shockwaves. “Only if you promise to never say the word moist and mouthwatering together in the same sentence ever again.”
“Promise.” And in one quick movement, I lift her onto the countertop of the industrial kitchen and head straight for the fridge.
Surely Chef Marshall left some desserts for us to enjoy.