“Not yet, Bakes,” I laugh with a wink at him, gathering up the meal and ushering them out, “I will keep you posted though. Now scoot, I have a battle to win.”
I walk the few steps between my shop and the space beside me that will become a bookstore. It’s brisk out, the air smelling more like fall as the leaves start to turn. At the storefront, I notice the progress since my first visit. That first time I brought food over, they were just starting to frame the place. Now they’ve put up walls, started on floors, and I smell paint.
Stepping into the dark space, I realize I'm nervous. Ineverget nervous. Not before I started culinary school, not when I competed in competitions, and not when I started my restaurant.
I believe things happen the way they should, so being nervous is a waste of energy. Yet here I am, tiptoeing through the unfinished bookstore with carne asada, looking for the pretty boy who hurt my feelings—and I'm so nervous I don’t even want some of the tacos.
“Hello,” I call, my voice a little wobbly, “is anyone here?”
I already know the answer—I swear I can feel eyes watching me. I straighten my back, square my shoulders, and clear my throat. I peer into the darkness and see a flash of movement. My heart rate kicks up before I see a large shadow step into the dim light of early evening.
Air stills in my lungs as a huge body unfurls from the darkness. A predator seeking its prey.Am I the prey?A flash of light flickers in the cobalt eyes as they lock on mine, making my heart stop.It’s him.
An explosion of sensation rockets through me, fluttering in my belly, heat between my legs, twisting in my chest, and I feel as if I am swaying in the darkness. Slowly, I work my way closer to him.
“Hey,” he says throatily, eyes skimming over me before they stop at my handful of food.
“You hurt my feelings, so I brought food for you,” my words rush out in a single breath. Once I say them, I want them back.
“Kady.” He says my name as if he likes how it tastes in his mouth and I wonder how he knows it at all. “I tried to apologize. Iwasan asshole. I was pissed at myself and... that smells fucking delicious,” he grunts the words out, taking two big steps towards me.
His eyes are on mine—not the food—as he closes the distance between us. I notice how charged the air feels, almost electric as he cocks his head at me. I forget why I’m here, why I was mad, and why the hell I'm offering him my favorite dish. And then he smiles at me.
Whatever sensations I thought I was feeling are dialed up to eleven at that smile. It’s crooked and charming and it lights up his pretty eyes. Another step brings us so close the serving plate hits his chest and still, his eyes stay on mine.
“You came to feed me.” His voice is lava hot as he finally looks away to notice the food.
“I came to prove myself!” I tip my chin in defiance. “Thisis why my place needs to expand, why I need the space you want, and why my business is booming—I want you to taste why.” As I say this, his eyes swing up to mine.
“Well...I amstarving,” he says hotly, wetting his bottom lip as I watch in rapt fascination.
Just like that, I feel hungry for something more than tacos, too.