Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
They were coming to the end of the gingerbread project, with the jubilee almost set to begin.
She couldn’t wait to see all of the entries that would be brought in by people in the community.
Mayor Addison Carey had been in and out of the resort a few times, her excitement over everything infectious.
But for Laney, watching Pike work was what really made all of this feel so... special. He was so skilled, everything he touched became something magical.
She knew what that was. That particular sort of magic that a particular chef might have. The thing that elevated you above those around you. That made you just slightly better than people around you, that made you the best, instead of just another person in your field.
He had that with flavor, with the attention to detail, with the precision and artistry that went into the gingerbread house.
He managed to replicate the siding of the resort, a board and batten design with gingerbread, and little precise lines of royal icing.
The tile on the roof, round and spirited, with unique looking snowflakes piped onto several of them, intricate and perfect.
The windows were stunning, it was difficult to believe they were made from sugar.
And the little candy details that added brightness were whimsical and delicious looking.
She had worked with a lot of high-level chefs, but because pastry and dessert weren’t her forte, she hadn’t worked as closely with somebody who was so brilliant in that field before, and it was a gift to watch him work.
It was also a gift to go to bed with him at night. Those hands were creative and precise there too.
She could only give thanks.
Now it was the night before the gingerbread jubilee, and the kitchen was quiet. They had just a few details left to refresh, and then everything would be ready to go.
She had told Pike that he didn’t need to come over tonight—she always told him that, because she was so aware of how much extra work he was doing right now—but, of course, he was on his way, and her stomach was fluttering.
The lobby was dark, though one of the newer employees was minding the front desk around the corner, and, of course, guests could come downstairs at any time of night.
They often did, and Laney couldn’t say she blamed them. She enjoyed sitting out there in the quiet stillness, the space in the room making it feel easier to breathe.
Though she always had to be mindful that when she and Pike were working down here, they weren’t necessarily alone.
She took a picture of the gingerbread house, and looked at the photo, because sometimes that helped identify things she didn’t notice while just standing there looking at something.
“Taking a picture of my masterpiece for posterity?”
She turned around, and her heart nearly burst.
She’d thought he was handsome for months. She’d enjoyed talking to him, bantering with him, but the chance that she’d gotten over the last couple of weeks to know the real man underneath that charming smile had really changed things for her.
Had made those feelings deepen in intensity.
It was so interesting yesterday when he’d been talking about rock bottom.
And what you were left with in the end.
She’d always found family in her kitchens, but she’d also moved with her career ambitions.
Her one attempt at settling down had been so disastrous, she had decided she wasn’t going to try again.
But she was. She was doing it here. With the people that she was hiring to work with her, with the Grayson family, and... with Pike.
She couldn’t imagine him being just a fling. Which felt ridiculous after such a short amount of time, but it was true.
He felt like more.
Yes, she had a propensity toward dating chefs and people who worked kitchens, but she had never been with anybody who matched her ambition or talent. And in the end, she had never been with anybody that she felt like was wiser than she was.
She felt like Pike was. Not only because of his age, but because of his experience. He was a good man. And his past being dark didn’t make her less certain of it, but more. Because he had gotten up after being down for a long time. She could only respect that.
“Well, it is pretty amazing.”
“I can definitely see some things we need to touch up before tomorrow. I’ll do it.”
“You’re such a control freak,” she said.
“Yes. I am. Does that actually surprise you?”
“No. Not really. You’re a perfectionist.”
He nodded. “Yes. Though, I’ve tried to let some of that go. Frustrated perfectionism is dangerous, on that, you can trust me. Because it’s way too tempting to blow everything up when it’s not exactly the way that you want it. And at the end of the day, you don’t want everything to be blown up.”
“No. I wouldn’t expect so.”
“So tell me more about your ex,” he said, piping frosting onto one of the roof tiles, making a new and even more intricate snowflake.
“There’s not much to say. Pete was... you know, he was a chef, not as good as me, but he was my sous chef for a while.
And I thought he had the business brain to run the actual restaurant, and I would be the creative one.
But it turns out he wasn’t actually either.
He was just an asshole who got cold feet and decided to run away with everything that I’d worked so hard for.
It made me feel like love wasn’t real. I was really legitimately broken there for about a month, then I muddled around in the Bay Area, trying to regroup.
I considered a few job offers, and then decided I have to go somewhere that I didn’t feel like I was living in my failure.
That was when I started looking for jobs in new places.
I saw the posting for this one, I visited and…
I knew this was the place for me. I’ve been here for eight months.
And I love it. It healed something in me, being here. ”
“Me too. I can definitely relate to that feeling.”
“There’s something magical about this place.
About the mountains and the trees and the mustangs.
About the Grayson family. Because they’ve been through so much, and look what they’ve built.
Admittedly, my ego wanted a stand-alone restaurant.
Wanted something in a city, wanted notoriety in a really specific way.
But I’m not sure that I want that anymore.
I’m not sure that I believe it would make me happy.
At least not any more than this already does. ”
“Yeah, I was hell-bent on gaining notoriety. Reaching the top. And I did that. But the trouble with everything that goes up is that it has to come down. And I was not equipped for the fall. I like to think that I’m different now because I know what matters.”
“And are you ready to quit punishing yourself?”
“Yeah, I think I am.”
They worked in silence for a while after that, and then they walked into the kitchen to clean up their supplies. They still had two full bags of royal icing, but she left him to take care of that.
She wiped everything down in the kitchen one last time, and then he took her hand, his eyes intense on hers. “I’m staying the night.”
“Okay,” she said.
He pushed the door open to her room as soon as she touched the lock with the card key, and then he was the one to lock the deadbolt behind them.
“Take off your clothes,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Don’t question me. Just say yes, Chef.”
Her mouth went dry, and she was otherwise quite wet.
Very slowly, she took her shirt off, her bra, her pants and her underwear, until she was standing there naked.
He reached inside an interior pocket of his jacket and took out one of the piping bags that he had been using on the gingerbread house.
Her mouth dropped open. “Sneaky bastard,” she said.
“I’ve been thinking. About how I lost all the pleasure in my life. About how I cut myself off from everything that I desired. And I’ve been thinking about you. How much I want you. How you make me feel. You are art.”
Her breath left her lungs in a rush.
And he moved forward, angling the icing bag just so, right above the plump part of her breast, tracing an intricate snowflake over her skin, leaving behind whisper-thin lines of icing.
“Beautiful.”
He connected another snowflake to the first, and another, until he had created a garment for her made of frosting.
And then he leaned in and started to lick the sugar away.
She started to shake. He didn’t simply swipe at it with his tongue, he traced every line that he had just drawn there. She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her, large hands splayed on her back as he continued to devour her. Then he sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth.
He picked her up then, laid her down on the bed, and drew a star of icing on her rib cage, one just above her belly button, one at her hip bone. He was without a doubt the most attentive, intense lover she’d ever had, and that was saying something.
There was just something different about him. Something about this. He was a true artist in every sense of the word. Just like he could turn a dessert into an experience, he could turn sex into a whole new experience. What his mouth could do transcended mere skill. There was art.
There was attention to detail.
There was absolutely taking her to another planet because all of the things he did and thought of were the sexiest, most glorious thing she had ever experienced.
He licked the star away from her rib cage, then licked slowly around the outside of the one on her belly button.
“Pike,” she whispered.
“You’re delicious,” he said. And then he licked it away.
He took his time getting down to her hip bone, and then, he teased her. Didn’t lick that star away. Instead, he forced her thighs wide, and buried his face between them. She arched her hips up off the mattress, surrendered to that, to him.
They had explored each other’s bodies pretty thoroughly at this point. Neither of them had any inhibitions, but this still felt different. She felt seen, plundered, taken in a way that she could honestly say she’d never felt before.
She was used to being in control, used to being the one in charge—the chef.
But he came and he took that control, didn’t leave her feeling small or helpless because of it, but left her feeling in awe. Like she was in the presence of a true master.
And perhaps that was why it felt so different.
An inferior man, an inferior chef, had made her feel small and stupid because he hadn’t been skilled enough—not in the kitchen or the bedroom—to have hurt her the way that he did.
But Pike had those skills. In the bedroom, in the kitchen, and just as a man.
He was a father, an addict who had gone to the abyss and back up again.
A man with pride who had done everything he could to earn the forgiveness of the people that he had hurt.
A man who had made himself vulnerable, a man who had experienced life out of control, and had taken hold of it firmly again.
A man who had succeeded, yes, but also a man who had failed.
And those were all the things that made Pike perfect.
A good dish needed elements that on their own would be undesirable. But without bitterness, sweetness couldn’t truly be appreciated.
It was the presence of everything that created a truly layered and nuanced dish.
And Pike was that. And then some.
He also made her realize that her dreams were not as layered as they should be.
That she had allowed her focus on her career to do so much heavy lifting. To save her from ever having to really put her heart out there.
But suddenly now she wanted to. Now she wanted everything.
Because she wanted to be complete.
She wanted the sweet and the sour and the bitter. She had demanded a one-night stand and gotten so much more.
She had gotten something that had fundamentally changed her.
And as his tongue slid over the most sensitive part of her, she cried out his name, and then he kissed her lips, thrusting deep within her. Their eyes met, and it felt more like a promise than it was maybe supposed to.
But she didn’t want to look away.
He claimed her over and over again. Until he cried out her name, until he collapsed beside her, sated.
He rolled over onto his back, and she looked down, and saw a squish of frosting around his hip.
“You made a mess,” she said, laughing.
“Is that an offer to clean me up?”
“We just finished. And I have it on good authority that men your age—”
He growled and pinned her to the mattress. And she could feel that he was already getting hard again.
“What do you know about men my age?”
“Only what you’ve taught me.”
“I haven’t taught you very well then.”
“Then I hope that you’re committed to the act of my continued learning.”
Lucky for her, he was.
He kissed her, deep and passionate, until they were both gasping for air.
And then she went and turned the shower on, dragged him inside. Got to her knees in front of him and worshiped that most beautiful part of him.
She licked him from base to tip, took him in deep, swallowed him down until he was begging her to stop, until he was saying her name over and over again, until he shuddered his release and she swallowed every drop.
And then took her to bed for the rest of the night, but neither of them slept.