He nodded and reached for the basket.
She laughed and smacked his hand playfully. “This is the first course. You have to let the others have some.”
“You could just give me the basket, and I’ll make it my meal. The others don’t have to know what they’re missing.”
Her brow wrinkled. “This is just a teaser for your palate. You won’t want to miss the rest of the meal.”
“Is it as good as those little flavor bombs?”
She lifted her chin. “Guess you’ll have to come to dinner and find out.”
He glanced down at his dirty clothes. “I need a shower before I sit at a table. I’m covered in dust.”
“I don’t think anyone will care how dusty you are. However, they do care how long it takes for you to get to the table.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Everyone else is in the dining room. I’m making them wait on you.”
His brow furrowed. “I’ll be five minutes. Tops.”
She glanced at her watch. “Four minutes, fifty-nine seconds and counting.” Her lips tipped upward at the corners in a bit of a smirk. “Won’t be any of these left by the time you get back.”
“Save me one?”
She tipped her head. “Only if you’re back in…” she glanced at her watch again, “four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.”
He left her standing there with the basket and raced up the stairs to his room. Hell, it would take almost a minute to get to his room and back, giving him only three minutes to strip, shower and dress.
Hopefully, she’d take pity on him and save one of the savory chicken bombs for him. If not, he’d ask for the recipe and make some himself.
It had been a long time since he’d had something that good, served by a sassy, sexy chef he wouldn’t mind getting to know a little better. Not that he was interested in starting something with her, he reminded himself.
Relationships were hard. He’d tried it once and failed. So many of his buddies had as well, only to end up in divorce when their spouses got tired of waiting for them to come home.
Still, the lure of amazing food made him pick up the pace, stripping off his shirt as he ran. He arrived in his room, already half naked.
He toed off his boots and shucked his jeans. In the adjoining bathroom, he reached into the shower stall and turned the handle to start the flow of icy cold water. Without waiting for the water to warm, he stepped beneath the spray and made quick work of scrubbing the dust out of his hair and off his skin. Two minutes later, he was out of the shower, quickly dried and shoving damp legs into a clean pair of jeans.
As he zipped the fly, he frowned. Why was he hurrying? Was he so hungry that his patience was tested? Or was the sexy chef the real reason he was in an all-fired hurry to get to the dining room?
He didn’t stop to conduct a self-examination of his motivation. Grimm shoved his feet into boots, grabbed a T-shirt and ran from his room. He descended the stairs, taking two at a time to reach the bottom, the tantalizing scents of food making his stomach rumble in anticipation.
Grimm burst through the open door into the dining room to find his entire team seated at the table, passing platters and scooping food onto their plates.
“We couldn’t wait,” Drake said with a grin as he shoveled a spoonful of vegetables onto his plate. He laughed. “Dezi even made the vegetables amazingly delicious.” He held up a chunk of chicken on the end of his fork. “Have you tried these?” His team leader popped the item into his mouth and moaned.
Grimm’s lips twisted. “Had one. I was hoping Dezi had saved me another.”
Drake’s woman, Cassie Douglas, held up the empty basket. “Sorry. They didn’t last long.”
“Don’t worry,” Drake rubbed his hands together, “we were assured there’d be more courses to this dinner.”
Dezi and a redhead, who was introduced as Gabbie, entered the dining room, carrying large platters of food. The scents filled Grimm’s nostrils and triggered a loud rumble deep in his belly.
“Heard that,” Dezi said with a teasing smile as she passed him. “How’s bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin sound?”
“Like Parker said,” Grimm let a grin pull at the corners of his mouth, “you had me at bacon.”
Dezi laid the pork platter in front of him and started to sit beside him.
Grimm shot to his feet, held her chair as she settled, then retook his seat.