Chapter 1 #2
“Hey, you two!” Madison cleared her throat and tried to sound like she hadn’t been about to tear Kyle’s clothing off in a public hallway. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon.”
“Not that we’re not thrilled to see you,” Kyle smoothly added, but then again, he didn’t have a hair out of place, whereas she was sure hers was sticking up in spikes after his hands were in it.
“Ah… We wanted to start the New Year with you guys,” Thea finally managed, doing her best to smile her sweet little sister smile. “It’s only a short train ride from Lyon. We’re going back tomorrow. We would have been here a little earlier, but traffic was a nightmare.”
What would have happened if Paris traffic hadn’t messed things up?
She supposed it didn’t matter. She and Kyle had kissed, and she couldn’t regret it.
They’d had the just-friends talk more than once, but it hadn’t convinced either of them.
They’d been skating on thin ice so long she’d been tempted to start wearing Gore-Tex in case she fell through.
Tonight they had.
What the hell came next?
Kyle’s hand suddenly rubbed the small of her back. She nearly jumped out of her skin she was so sensitive. Taking a slow breath, she reminded herself he was only trying to assure her. Whatever happened after this insane holiday blip, they were going to be okay.
The best friends they’d always been.
She sent him a tight smile. God, she needed to believe that. Losing him would be like losing her ability to cook for a living.
If only she believed they could be more than friends who occasionally crossed the line…
Every relationship she’d ever been in had been cursed with a shelf life. Only one man had gotten close enough to break her heart—her first love, the guy she’d first given herself to.
She was wiser now, or so she freaking hoped.
She was certainly wise enough to realize that losing Kyle would also mean losing Nanine’s, because if they tried to be together and it failed, she wouldn’t be able to work with him, right? That meant all her dreams could go up in the flames between them.
“Don’t you dare start putting up walls between us,” Kyle whispered as he leaned in toward her ear.
She jolted again, kicking the Dom Perignon over.
Kyle only leaned down and picked it up, giving her a look.
Dammit! That was the problem with Kyle—they could basically read each other’s thoughts.
Worse, they finished each other’s sentences like a couple who took Cosmo compatibility quizzes while having breakfast in bed all cuddled up in matching white robes after sharing the Sunday newspaper.
That was so not her. She was a tough girl with trust issues who planned to become a culinary legend. The sexist male chefs who’d scoffed at her for being in their hallowed kitchens would bow to her. Maybe not chefs as big as Chef Paul Bocuse, but…
Actually, why the hell not? Nanine had given her one of Bocuse’s knives as a gift. Holding it was like wielding Excalibur.
She worked her butt off to be the best, and by God, she was proud of herself for working hard to achieve her goals. She leaned forward to poke Kyle when she pulled up short.
Thea was still staring at them…
Paul Bocuse was still on Madison’s mind, and it struck her that the happy couple had intended to visit one of his restaurants during their honeymoon.
Given that Thea was a professional baker, on the cusp of opening her own bakery in Paris in six weeks, she might be successfully distracted by the topic of Bocuse.
“How was L’Auberge du Pont de Collonges? ”
Jean Luc had to nudge Thea, who looked like someone had poured cold water on her. “Oh! It was marvelous. Bocuse’s famous black truffle soup was out of this world. I can see why the French president gave him that award after he was served it.”
Madison willed her now very sensitive mouth to smile. “The Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur. The Oscar for anyone French, basically.” She wouldn’t mind winning that too. “You’ll have to tell me more about the food. I’ve always wanted to check out Lyon.”
“You totally have to go!” Thea’s love for food finally eclipsed her shock, thankfully. “Being in the food industry, we appreciate the excellence even more.”
Yes, and they both knew such excellence came at a price. For Madison, it involved dedicating her entire life and focus to being a chef. She feared her feelings for Kyle could put that in jeopardy. “Everyone else is inside. They’ll be thrilled you’ve come.”
Jean Luc was doing his best to present a banal French expression. Or maybe he truly wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t like the others didn’t know she and Kyle had the hots for each other. All of them had caught on, and they’d mostly left them alone to work it out.
Madison opened the door for the happy couple and then closed it behind them, turning to face Kyle. He was watching her from the opposing wall with the Dom in his hand, his blue eyes narrowed.
“You okay?”
He gave a deep exhalation. “Yeah, but I could use a minute.”
Right.
She suddenly wanted to rub her sweaty palms together.
Nanine had dubbed Kyle the dessert course, and until this moment, Madison had never realized how accurate that designation was.
He was a delicious treat, one so decadent she’d plan the whole meal around it to make sure the experience built to its ultimate conclusion.
Because dessert brought pleasure. Lots and lots of groaning at the table kind of pleasure.
She wanted to feast.
On Kyle.
But she knew the reality of overindulging. Sometimes consuming something so luscious and rich led to a sick stomach. Worse, dessert could overtake everything else.
That was what she feared the most.
She could lose everything she valued if she gave in to the full temptation of him.
Finger combing her crazy hair was her attempt to bring order back to chaos.
If she walked in there without fixing it, everyone would instantly know she’d been kissing Kyle, and she didn’t need to start the new year off with their friends worrying about the two of them blowing up their found family and ruining their business relationship.
She lifted her chin, showing strength to the man who could make her insides quake. “Sure, take all the time you need.”
As she started to open the door again, a gentle hand to her shoulder stopped her. She swung around, and their eyes locked and held.
“When I was thinking about how I wanted my new year to start, I knew I couldn’t go another year without kissing you,” he confessed in his dark, luscious voice, flavored with a little of his Texas accent.
She pretended to fall against the wall again in shock. “Well, jeez, Kyle, why don’t you just follow up with a haymaker and a cross jab?”
That damn smile, the one she found so tantalizing, flitted across his lush mouth. “I’m simply telling you how I want it to be. This wasn’t a onetime kiss. I know we’re best friends, Mad, but I want us to be more.”
She crossed her arms as visions of them tangled up in the sheets heated her skin. “Kyle, we’ve talked about this.”
“Yes, but I’ve done some more thinking. Besides, I can’t help being who I am. While I hate being called Golden Boy, in some ways it fits. Things do work out for me, but it’s partly because I believe they will. I’m asking you to believe with me. We’re right for each other. In every way that counts.”
His crystal clarity on what he wanted scared the hell out of her sometimes.
They would be good together, but for how long?
Every time she thought about giving in to their attraction, she got overwhelmed with fear that it would affect their friendship and business relationship.
Her best defense was to keep things light.
“Kyle, I don’t even believe in the Tooth Fairy. ”
He laughed wickedly. “Then I’m going to help you believe.
Look, I know you’re worried that us getting together is going to mess things up across the board.
But I don’t believe that. Starting now, I plan to show you.
I won’t be a distraction or a liability.
I will, in fact, be the best damn partner you could imagine, in bed and out of it. So Happy New Year, Mad.”
Partner? Oh shit. What was he thinking? That they would coo like lovebirds and be a happy couple?
She was far from certain anything like that was possible for her, ever.
“You wish me Happy New Year after saying that?” She planted her hands on his chest and made herself shove him back instead of gripping his shirt and dragging him closer.
“Look, Kyle, it would be better if we wrote this off as a onetime thing. A holiday burst of madness.”
He only shook his head. “No.”
God, for being called the Golden Boy and Mr. Easygoing, he sure had a stubborn streak a mule would envy.
“Don’t be like this. We’ve talked about the situation.
I need to focus on the restaurant—our family’s restaurant, basically—and win a Michelin star.
The announcement of this year’s recipients is coming mid-March, and that means I only have two and a half months to give it my all, every day.
I need us to stay friends and business partners and keep our family together.
We cannot cross the line and upset the boat. ”
He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “We already have. There’s no going back. Only forward.”
“My goal is getting that star,” she made herself say, feeling the urge to draw lines.
“Which I support wholeheartedly, as you know.” Another smile lit his gorgeous face. “Fair warning. My goal is you.”
Words that made her belly tremble, especially since they were delivered in an accent as enticing and sweet as spun sugar. She gently pushed his hand away before she could give in to the temptation to lean in and let him persuade her. “I’ll see you inside.”
Their gazes held. “Count on it.”
Her heart pumped with fear and longing as she let herself into Dean and Jacqueline’s apartment and detoured directly to the bathroom on the first floor.
Laughter filtered down to her from above.
Putting her head under the sink, she let the cold water cool her hot nape and wash away his fingerprints.
She looked at herself in the mirror as she dried off. Yes, her hair was standing up. Terrific. Worse, her lips were full and ruby from Kyle’s kisses and her cheeks looked like she’d put some rosy blush called Lover’s Delight on them.
But it was the look in her eyes that made her hurt.
She saw the heat, sure, but there was also a flicker of the young girl she’d been.
The one who’d still had the smallest hope that everything she’d heard about love wasn’t bullshit.
The one who would have cooed like that damn lovebird. She’d been sixteen then.
Four years later she’d come to Paris for cooking school at Le Cordon Bleu and heard about Nanine’s horrible tragedy—being lied to and seduced by her Cordon Bleu instructor, the famed Chef Auguste Dassault, only to find herself pregnant, disgraced, and blackballed by the best Parisian chefs, who’d closed ranks.
Nanine had told her and Thea the whole story to encourage them to be safe and smart as they pursued their dreams.
The lesson was simple: men like that would destroy your future if you let them.
Of course, Madison had learned that lesson long ago, starting with her drunk, deadbeat father and the hard neighborhood she’d grown up in.
She’d been careful in Paris and, later, in the kitchens of some of Miami’s best restaurants, fighting off handsy chefs and watching other, less talented chefs surpass her because of that damn boys’ club.
Splashing her face again, she told herself Kyle was different from those men. He was kind and good and supportive. He would never do that. But isn’t that what every girl said? In the mirror, she saw hope flare in her dark eyes.
She thought about slapping that look off her face.
Her hand lifted. But she couldn’t do it. She’d been slapped around growing up, and enough people had put her down that she’d promised herself she’d never be one of them.
Besides, she wanted to believe.
She put her face in her hands and curled forward.
Oh God, what was she going to do?