“And way too brooding.”
“Brooding?”
“Too intense.”
“Alright, alright. Stop piling on.”
“Too much of a perfectionist. A control freak.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You finished?”
“Oh, and you’re my best friend’s brother so the thought makes me throw up a little in my mouth.”
“There is that.”
Kara laughed again. “So…that’s it, is it? Two ships passing in the night that could have been a big bang?”
“You’re mixing your metaphors again,” he pointed out. “But yeah, I guess so.”
“Metaphors. Pfft.” She shook her head and then gave him a smile. Not her normal don’t-fuck-with-me smile he’d appreciated from the minute he’d first interviewed her for his restaurant five years ago, but a gentle one. “Sorry for my bad timing,” she said. “I’ll make it up to you. Work today even though I was meant to have it off.”
“Yeah, nah.” He chuckled. “It’s all good.”
Although it wasn’t. As ridiculous as it sounded, the nagging feeling he’d missed something meaningful kept gnawing at his gut.
“You sure you’re going to be awake enough to come in? Run the kitchen?” Kara shot him a quick look. “You look exhausted.”
“Thanks.” He pulled a hand through his thick dark hair, fighting back the yawn trying to claim him. “But Owen’s future sisters-in-laws are arriving in Sydney sometime this morning, and I told him their first meal in Australia was on me at the restaurant. Plus, I promised I’d cook.”
Kara whistled. “So the big boss is going to get his hands dirty? Wow.”
Angus narrowed his eyes at her. “Shut up and drive, Santos.”
“Yes, boss.” She laughed, and flattened the accelerator.
He returned his attention to the footpath. Damn it, hereallywished he’d gotten the American woman’s phone number.