Yes, Chef (Sizzle & Burn Book 1)

by Linda Verji

  He could tell that Snow wanted to prod for more answers but to his relief she let the matter rest. When they said their goodbyes at her place, her kisses were more tender as if she was soothing him the only way she knew how. He almost begged to stay with her – just for tonight. Today more than any other day, he wanted to lose himself in Snow and forget about everyone else. But reason reminded him that a night together would probably end with them sleeping together. So with more reluctance than he thought possible, he got into his car and headed for home.

  For some reason, his condo seemed darker, colder and lonelier than usual. With a tired sigh, he dropped his jacket on the couch’s arm then sat down. Maybe he’d jumped the gun. Maybe Lana had gotten some badly needed mothering-instincts while she was away and would actually call him this time. He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and set it on the coffee-table. An instant later, he kissed his teeth.

  What the hell was he doing? Why was he wasting hope on the impossible? He was thirty-two years old – way past the age of pining for his absentee mother. He stood up and made a beeline for the mini-bar. Yup, he was all grown up. No longer affected by her rejection. Yet as he poured himself a stiff drink he couldn’t help glancing backwards at his phone. But no one called.

  CHAPTER 12

  Snow had already guessed that something was up with Greyson, but when he turned up the next morning looking like he was hangover, there was no guessing – something was definitely off. She wanted to ask what was wrong but after the way he’d snapped yesterday, she was afraid that she’d only irritate him further. So she did what he’d done for her when she was in the same mood – she held his hand until they got to work.

  Once they got to the restaurant, she made her way up to the break-room. Ed was already up there, sleeping off his own hangover.

  “Hi, Ed,” Snow greeted as she made a beeline to her locker. The older man answered her with a grunt. She rummaged through her locker for the bottle of pills she always kept there but couldn’t find them. Someone must’ve taken them. She turned towards the person most likely to have pulled off the heist. “Ed, have you seen my painkillers?”

  Without lifting his head from the table or opening his eyes, Ed raised his left arm. Sure enough, clasped in his fist was the orange pill-bottle. Snow pried the bottle from his grasp but found it empty. She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “You finished them?”

  Ed’s response was another grunt then he turned his head so he was facing away from her. Snow glared at the back of his head. Now, how was she supposed to help Greyson with his hangover? A moment later, a thought struck her. Her menstrual cramps were so bad that she often kept back-up painkillers in her purse. She strode back to her locker and emptied her purse out in the middle compartment.

  A quick rummage through the spilled contents of her purse revealed that she did indeed have painkillers. She grabbed them then shoved the rest of her stuff back into her purse. After grabbing a bottle of water, she made her way to Greyson’s office. She paused to knock shortly on the door before she pushed her way into the room.

  Greyson was at his desk, cradling his head with both hands. When she walked into the room, he looked up then immediately sat up straighter in his chair. “Snow?

  “Hi, Chef.” She closed the door behind her then crossed the room towards his desk. She held out the pills and the bottle. “I thought you might need this for your headache.”

  “Thank you.” A grateful light flashed in Greyson’s eyes. “How did you know?”

  “It was kind of obvious.” She chuckled lightly before her expression turned serious. “You okay?”

  “Mm.” He tried to nod but the movement must’ve been painful because he winced. After popping two pills and downing them with water, he explained, “I hit the bottle a little too hard last night. The headache should be gone in a couple of minutes.”

  She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t talking about his headache but rather about what was really bothering him. However, this wasn’t the time or place. So instead she offered, “Why don’t I prep your station for you while you get some rest?”

  “You don’t have to do that,” he protested.

  “Let me,” she insisted. “I’m on salads and cold foods today anyway so it’s not like I have a lot of work.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure.”

  If they weren’t at the restaurant, she would’ve circled the desk and kissed him. Unfortunately, they were, so she had to content herself with a smile before she exited the office. The painkillers must have been fast-acting because barely an hour later, Greyson emerged in the kitchen. He found her slicing the steak for him and promptly took over.

  Thankfully, it seemed like he was back to his usual self and remained so for the rest of the day. Even better, Oscar seemed to have forgotten what he’d witnessed yesterday – or almost witnessed – and there were no weird rumors about her and Greyson swirling around the restaurant.

  As was now usual, Greyson drove her home in the evening. He was unusually quiet tonight too. Snow let him be, figuring that silence was what he needed. When they got to her place, he dropped her off with a sweet goodbye kiss. It was only once he’d left that she realized that she didn’t have her house-keys. She rummaged through her purse again to confirm it. Yup – no house-keys. Where could they be?

  “Ah!” She smacked her forehead. She must’ve forgotten to put them back in her purse when she’d dumped her things out in search of painkillers for Greyson.

  What was she supposed to do now? The locks were new enough that she hadn’t given anyone her spare keys. Of course, she could go to her dad’s but that would mean an evening and morning of listening to him talking smack about her ‘hobby’. Nope, she wasn’t doing that. There was only one palatable option - go back to the restaurant and get her keys then come back home.

  Now, who’d closed up tonight? Hmm? Though Snow was in charge of the kitchen tomorrow, Vina had offered to come in early to receive the early morning meat and fish delivery. Unfortunately, Vina lived on the other side of town. Wait! There was someone else who had a spare key to the restaurant. Greyson. And he was barely a fifteen-minute drive away from her. Besides, this would give her a chance to finally see his place.

  “Greyson,” she cooed into the phone. “Are you home yet?”

  “Yeah, I just stepped through the door.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he asked, “Why? Were you checking up on me?”

  She hated to burst his bubble ,but it had to be done. Wincing, she apologized, “Sorry, I’ve got an ulterior motive.”

  “I’m disappointed,” he said but there was teasing lilt in his voice. “What’s up?”

  “I forgot my house-keys at Tellers.” She asked, “Can I come by your place and pick up the restaurant’s keys.”

  “Are you telling that you’ve been standing outside your house all this time?” His concern was obvious.

  “It hasn’t been that long. But yes, I’m stranded out here,” she said. “Can I come by?”

  “Let me come to you,” he offered.

  “No. no. no. I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she protested. “I’ll just take a cab to your place.”

  Despite his insistence that it wasn’t an inconvenience, she managed to convince him that her plan was the best plan. Finally, he agreed to give her the directions to his place. Moments later, he sent a text with all the details. Her cab didn’t take long to arrive and soon she was on her way to Greyson’s place.

  His condo was situated within a glassy twenty-story, high-rise complete with an underground parking lot and elevators. According to his directions, he was on the twelfth floor so Snow took the elevator up. When the metallic doors opened, she stepped out into the hallway. After a few moments of strolling the length of the hallway, staring at door numbers and trying to figure out how the condos were arranged, she finally found his place.

  She pressed the doorbell and seconds later the door flew open. And there Grey
son was - with that crooked, deliciously sexy smile of his. Her lips automatically quirked in response. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He ushered her into the condo. “Come on in.”

  “I can’t stay for long. I’ve still got to go back to the restaurant…” Her words faded into silence as she stopped at the entrance of the living room and swept her gaze over it. “Wow! This is beautiful.”

  This living room deserved the centre-fold page in an interior-design magazine. The ultra-modern space boasted wraparound windows that offered a mesmerizing view of the city, high ceilings, hardwood floors, light gray sectional couches, carpeting in a deeper gray, and a ridiculously large TV that could’ve fit right into a theater. Though the apartment was lavish, there was still something warm, masculine yet welcoming about it.

  “Glad you like.” Greyson he came up behind her. “Is your cab waiting downstairs?”

  She swiveled to face him. “Yeah. If you just give me the restaurant’s key, I-”

  He cut in. “Tell them to leave without you.”

  Confused, she frowned. “Why?”

  “You should stay here.” Before she had time to digest his suggestion, he reasoned. “By the time you get to the restaurant and get back to your place it will be past one a.m.. Why waste all that time, money and energy when you could just spend the night here then get your house-keys tomorrow?”

  Was she hearing this right? “You want me to spend the night here?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve got two spare rooms, and there’s a boutique downstairs where we can get you whatever clothes you need to change into tomorrow morning.”

  He must’ve been trying to figure out how to get her to stay at his place all this time because his arguments were too logical, too well-rehearsed. She should’ve called him out on it but a sudden thought struck her. Was this was his way of getting her into his bed? Her heart immediately jumped to her throat and excitement pulsed through her. If sex was his end-game, then she was willing to play ball.

  “I suppose you’re right.” Suppressing her anticipation, she gave a fake sigh of resignation. “It is quite late.”

  “It is,” he agreed before throwing in one last hopeful plea. “Stay.”

  She paused for a dramatic few moments before nodding. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

  * * * * *

  GREYSON HAD NO ulterior motives. Honest! He just didn’t want Snow running around in the middle of the night because she didn’t have a place to sleep.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked her. “I noticed you didn’t eat dinner when everyone else was eating.”

  “Mm. A little.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I’d rather take a shower first. I still smell like meat.”

  “I noticed,” he teased.

  “Really?” Snow immediately pulled the neck of her t-shirt to her nose as if to smell herself.

  “I’m kidding,” he reassured her with a grin. “Let me set up the guest-room then you can shower to your heart’s content.”

  Leaving her in the living room, he set off for the guest-room. It took him ten minutes to put fresh sheets and covers on the circular bed. After grabbed one of his t-shirts and shorts for her to sleep in, he came back to the living room to get her.

  “There’s a spare toothbrush and towels in the en-suite,” he explained as he guided her into the guest-room. “And I left you something to sleep in on the bed. Leave the clothes you’re wearing outside the door and I’ll launder them for you.”

  Smiling, she teased. “If I’d known you were such an amazing host, I would’ve come for a sleep-over earlier.”

  His mouth widened in a smile. “That’s Aunt Patty’s influence at work. She always says that the word ‘bachelor’ isn’t a synonym for ‘wild animal’.”

  Snow nodded in approval. “She taught you well.”

  It was weird how warm her compliment left him feeling. Grinning, Greyson closed the door to the guest-room behind him then strode to the living room. A couple of minutes later, he heard the guest-room door open then close. A peek in the hallway revealed a small mound of clothes outside the door.

  He put her clothes and some of his in the washing machine while he watched baseball highlights. Several minutes later, her clothes were drying. Assuming that she was done with her shower, he warmed up a plate of leftover pasta then carried it to her room.

  He knocked on the door. “Snow, can I come in?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice seeped through the wood.

  He pushed the door open. “I brought you some-”

  His words came to a screeching halt the moment he saw her standing by the bed wearing the t-shirt, and nothing but the t-shirt. His breath froze as did the rest of him at the delectable sight she presented.

  “The shorts were too large.” She looked down at her body. “This is long enough though, right?”

  Was she asking him or telling him? Because if it was a question, he had no answer to it. The navy t-shirt covered all the important bits and came almost halfway down her thighs. Heck! He’d seen women wear dresses that were shorter and tighter than that t-shirt, yet none of them had ever had quite the effect Snow was having on his body.

  It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing her bra by the slight droop of her breasts and the bullet-sized tips that poked through the fabric. Those sharp peaks were like a beacon calling for him to take them deep in his mouth and satiate himself. The fabric curved inwards slightly into her midriff to drop to her thighs. Though nothing was revealed, his overactive imagination was already wildly forming images of what lay between those thighs. Was she even wearing panties? God, he hoped not.

  Then came the legs! Damn those legs. Long, silky, smooth – the kind of legs you wanted to kiss your way up.

  How Greyson managed to keep a steady hold of the plate he was carrying and gruffly say, “I brought you some food,” was a miracle.

  “Oh!” Snow focused on the food. “It smells good.”

  Averting his gaze from her delectable body to set the plate on the bedside table. “I’ll just leave it here.”

  He didn’t know that Snow had followed him until he felt her body brush against his as she came to a stop beside him. Her eyes on the food, she said, “You cooked all this in that short time?”

  “No.” He cleared his throat before adding, “These are leftovers from our Sunday dinner. My aunt made it.”

  “It looks delicious.” Her fingers closed over his arm. “There’s so much of it. Do you want to share?”

  Spend another moment in her presence? When she looked so delicious and smelled so good? When all common sense said that he couldn’t touch her yet? Hell no! He wasn’t a fan of blue balls.

  “Please!” she pleaded then squeezed his arm.

  “Sure!” His idiot mouth quickly surrendered.

  It was official, Greyson decided ten minutes later, he was a masochist. Nothing else could explain what he was doing seated so close to Snow with his back to the headboard and the plate on his lap. She was curled up beside him, her body tilted slightly in his direction with her legs folded in a way that left the t-shirt barely covering her thighs and ass.

  “This is sooo good.” She leaned forward to roll her fork in the pasta dish. Her actions had the effect of brushing her breast against his arm and lifting her t-shirt slightly so he could see the arc of her buttocks.

  Nope. No panties. Damn!

  Blood rushed to his already swollen cock. If it wasn’t for the plate above his lap, she would’ve been witness to the effect she was having over him.

  Unaware of what she was doing to him, Snow complimented, “This is so good. Do you know what she put in here?”

  “She claims it’s a family recipe that’s only handed down to first-born daughters,” Greyson mumbled, distracted by all the temptation being thrust at him.

  “You have got to steal it for me,” she said before pushing the fork into her mouth.

  He followed the entry of that fork, watched how her lips closed over it, its exit, how she chewed then licke
d her lips. Damn! He needed a cold shower – or ten. The torture lasted for under twenty minutes but it felt like a century. Greyson couldn’t wait to get out of the room so he could take care of the damage Snow’s show had caused.

  Unfortunately, when he tried to leave the room, Snow closed her fingers around his arm. “Could you stay for a while? Just until I fall sleep?”

  No. No. No, you idiot, his brain screamed. But his mouth seemed to be operating on a different wavelength because it jumped in with, “Sure.”

  “Let me just brush my teeth.” She turned away from him to get off the bed, her t-shirt rising the slightest bit with that motion.

  Greyson almost exploded when he caught a glimpse of her pussy. He sucked in several breaths as he watched her enter the en-suite. Was she really unaware of what she was doing to him? She had to know that she was driving him insane. Was this a seduction of some sort? Before he could figure out the answers to his questions, Snow came back into the room and entered the bed. He adjusted his cock so that it wasn’t so obvious that he was aching for her.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” She asked innocently as she helpfully lifted the covers from him.

  That would be pure madness, Greyson thought. Yet he found himself getting under the covers with her. He just wanted to hold her, he mentally defended his idiocy. Nothing more would happen. Honest!

  As if determined to test his resolve, Snow scooted closer to him. Placing her palm on his chest, she rested her head on his shoulder then tangled one of her legs between his. The contact, though relatively innocent, sent immediate tingles coursing through him.

  For quite a while they lay on the bed both lost in silent thought. His thoughts focused on images meant to kill his arousal; naked grandpas, babies’ diapers.... But none of it was enough to erase the feel of Snow’s body snuggled close to his, or the feel of her legs rubbing along the length of his jean-clad ones as she fidgeted to get comfortable.