Leo
How was I supposed to go back to my normal routine after having sex with Eliza?
How was I supposed to get any work done? Maybe that was why it took me twice as long to prep ingredients, which Ray teased me about earlier.
There weren’t words to describe last night or how it felt to finally know what Eliza tasted and sounded like.
Fucking delicious.
We’d agreed on one time, and if that was what Eliza wanted, I’d abide by it…but I hoped she might change her mind.
Ray and I had finished dinner prep, and it was around the time the rest of the staff clocked in for their shifts. I’d noticed that majority of the staff, including Eliza, relied on snacks and granola bars to get them through their shifts in the evenings since we worked through dinner.
That wasn’t going to fly in my kitchen.
There was still enough time before the evening rush for me to cook tacos and ensure people had enough time to eat. I had the marinated steak grilling over high heat and black beans simmering on the stove.
“Chef, could you keep an eye on this for me?” I asked Ray as I dried my hands. “I need to grab limes and cilantro from the fridge.”
He nodded. “You got it, chef.”
With a few quick strides, I pulled open the door to the walk-in fridge and stepped inside. In addition to grabbing the ingredients I needed, I hoped the cool air would calm my thoughts about Eliza and allow me to focus for the rest of the night.
I ran my hands over my face, holding back my groan as Eliza’s moans and how she said my name played on loop in my mind. Fuck.
“Oh!” an all too familiar voice exclaimed, bumping into my back and causing me to step forward. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were…standing right in front of the door.” Eliza let out a laugh, stepping inside and letting the fridge door close behind us.
I’d only made it a few steps into the fridge before my thoughts distracted me.
I turned around, facing her with what I hoped was a semblance of composure.
She looked up at me with her dark-brown eyes, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. Suddenly, the large walk-in fridge seemed too small—and not cold enough.
I cleared my throat. “Right. Yeah, just forgot what I needed for a second.” I stepped farther into the fridge, and Eliza followed. I grabbed the limes and cilantro from the top shelf. “Did you need something?” I looked at Eliza over my shoulder, catching her eyes trailing down my body.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just me.
“Eliza?”
“Huh?” she asked, eyes wide as she looked up. Like she hadn’t wanted to get caught. “I needed…” She looked around the shelves, quickly grabbing a head of lettuce. “Lettuce!” she exclaimed. “I was going to make a salad before things got busy.”
“You came in here for…lettuce?” I narrowed my eyes at her, questioning whether or not that was what she really came in for. Maybe she needed a moment to cool off as much as I did. Secretly, I hoped that was the case.
“Uh-huh.” Eliza nodded, her eyes momentarily dipping down to my mouth.
“Right. Well, I’m making tacos, so if you’d prefer that over salad, they should be done in another minute or two.”
Her eyes widened, and as quickly as she’d grabbed the head of romaine, she put it back. “Oh, yeah, I’d prefer that. I’m starving.”
She led us out of the fridge and back into the kitchen.
“C’mon.” I nodded for her to follow once we were out.
“Hey, Ray,” Eliza greeted, leaning her hip against the counter.
“First in line for some food, huh?” he teased, and Eliza grinned as she replied, “Always.”
Ray helped make the pico de gallo while I sliced the steak and warmed up a stack of tortillas.
The two chatted about what they were up to this weekend, and Eliza asked Ray about his daughter, who’d just finished college and lived in Colorado.
“Do you think you’ll get to visit her soon? Or is your boss too much of a hard-ass?” Eliza asked, lips twitching as her eyes flicked to me.
“Are you talking about chef Leo or Wes?” Ray asked with a chuckle.
“I think the answer’s the same regardless,” she teased, and Ray’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“It really didn’t take me long to realize why Marnie calls you a firecracker,” Ray said.
Eliza shrugged innocently. “Someone’s gotta be.”
Ray then went back to Eliza’s original question.
“I’d like to visit her soon. I think with the two of us working in the kitchen, it would be more doable for me to take some time off after the summer once things slow down again, but I also want her to visit soon.
Meet everyone in town. Try the food. She does a good job of visiting me and her mom when she has the time. ”
I’d learned Ray had been married before, and his ex-wife lived in California. He hadn’t shared any more with me—not that I’d expected him to.
“Well,” I started, “whenever she does visit, just know she’ll have the best seat in the house to try out the full menu. And don’t worry about the time off. We’ll make it work.”
“Thanks, chef. And you, too. Don’t think you can’t take time off. I’ve seen too many talented chefs burn out in this industry during my time.”
I nodded in response to Ray, appreciating the reminder and his years of experience.
“Do you want steak, beans, or both on your tacos, Trouble? And how many?”
“Trouble?” Ray asked Eliza, elbowing her in the side. He whispered something else that I couldn’t make out, which had Eliza playfully rolling her eyes and elbowing him in return before turning to me.
“I’ll do two with both, please.”
I assembled her tacos and passed the plate over to her. Then I stepped aside so Ray could get through to make his plate.
“Not going to assemble my plate, chef?” Ray asked with a throaty chuckle, just as Louise, Wes, and a few other members of staff came into the kitchen.
“What are you laughing about?” Louise asked Ray, gently grabbing his arm and her smile softening. The two fell into a familiar conversation, with Ray making a plate and passing it to Louise first before grabbing one for himself.
Eliza and I had stepped off to the side. I’d grab my food after everyone had a chance.
“Oh my god,” Eliza moaned.
When I looked over at her, she was chewing with her eyes closed and head slightly tipped back. She was simply enjoying the food, but that moan went straight to my cock. Her eyes fluttered open, and the thin column of her throat bobbed as she came back to reality.
“Jesus, Eliza.” I ran a hand over my face.
She shrugged. “Hey, it’s your fault. You shouldn’t be making such good food if you don’t want me moaning.”
“Maybe my issue is that I want you moaning,” I murmured, ensuring to keep my voice low so no one would over hear.
Eliza’s breath hitched and her spine stiffened, but she played it off by taking another bite of food—quieter this time.
She reached for a napkin, wiping her lips.
“Well, maybe I can send you a voice recording. Would that solve your problem?” She blinked at me, peering up through her dark lashes, but the smirk on her face was anything but innocent.
“I’m joking, of course,” she added, that smirk turning into a sly smile.
My mouth fell open, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, beg, or deny that was what I wanted. It was impossible to predict what would come out of Eliza’s mouth, and that was perhaps one of the things I enjoyed most about her.
I crossed my arms over my chest, leaning my back against the edge of the counter. Most of the staff had taken their food into the main area of the bar, but Louise and Ray stayed in the kitchen, chatting on the other side of the room.
I nodded in their direction. “Is there anything going on between Louise and Ray?” I asked Eliza. Not that it was any of my business or mattered, but maybe that small town nosiness never left.
“Louise and Ray?” Eliza asked with raised brows. She quickly shook her head. “No way. They’ve been friends for years, but that’s it.”
“Huh.” I wasn’t entirely convinced, but Eliza knew them better than I did.
“Are you going to eat?” Eliza asked, wiping her mouth again and setting her empty plate off to the side.
“In a moment, yeah. Did you want another one?” I nodded toward her plate.
She shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. “No, I’m good. That’ll get me through the night. Thanks.” She grinned. “Much better than the granola bar I was planning to eat.”
“And your salad,” I reminded her.
Eliza tipped her head back with a laugh. “Right. My salad.”
She reached for her plate, but I grabbed it first to set in the pile of dishes to be washed. “I should get back to it.”
I nodded. “See you around, Trouble.”
The little food that was left was enough for me to make two tacos for myself, and then I cleaned up the kitchen to get ready for the evening.
Fridays and Saturdays had, unsurprisingly, been our busiest nights, so my full attention needed to be on the food and customers. Not the dark-haired, beautiful bartender who was in my thoughts even more than she’d been four years ago.