My eyes track up his wide, muscular, and very tall frame. It's a long, slow perusal that I can later blame on the alcohol or possible concussion from my fall. Either way, it's so worth the embarrassment of getting caught checking him out. When I finally land on his face, I find the man grinning down at me with a knowing expression. Red curls flop haphazardly over his piercing green eyes, and I instantly realize who the man is.
Stephen.Stephen is the Chef, and Dom the Bartenders maybe, sort of boyfriend or more, possibly less. We never did get to his story, did we?
"Are you okay,miss?"Stephen asks, his smooth, deep voice full of mirth. If I'm not entirely mistaken, I would venture to say he's holding in a laugh, and what a beautiful sound I would imagine that to be.
"A beautiful man with a beautiful voice," I mumbleabsent-mindedly.My eyes widen in horror as it dawns on me that I just said that last sentence out loud. My hand flies up to cover my mouth as I take a quick step back, and then another. Stephen and Dom both bark out loud, boisterous laughs, and oh, I was so right. Stephens' laugh is soulful and warm like a hug. It's almost pretty enough to wash away the embarrassment from my verbal slip-up.
What the hell is wrong with me? Yes, he is incredibly handsome. Gorgeous, actually. Tall, well-built, masculine. He's got a touch of metro-chic to him and he's a little less rugged than I usually prefer, but it works for him.
Wait. Why am I even thinking about whatIlike? This is Dom's man for shit's sake.
"Christ on a cracker. I think I'm drunker than I thought," I groan, scrubbing my flaming hot face with my hands. The men's laughter finally comes to an end, just as I feel a hand land on top of mine.
"Girl, it's fine. We've all been there, and you definitely deserved every single drop of alcohol tonight. Come, I want you to meet Stephen.The beautiful man with a beautiful voice," he cackles as his voice takes on a female quality in his attempt to quote me.
Flicking his hand away, I push his shoulder, feigning irritation, yet I can't help but laugh at him. I really like Dom. "Well, since I'm putting my foot in my mouth and making a disaster of myself, I might as well add to it."
Dom grabs my hand and tugs me toward Stephen, as he arches a brow in my direction.
"I've decided we're now besties so be prepared. I'm just as much of a clutz sober, as I am drunk."
Dom grins and squeezes my hand. "I've been in the market for a new best friend so consider your application officially accepted."
We both laugh but it dies on my tongue as we step in front of Stephen who has his large arms wrapped over his broad chest, as he watches the two of us with a look of amusement. He's wearing tight, dark wash jeans and a grey, form-fitting v-neck shirt. I assume he's changed out of his chefy attire, and his current look is both casual and hot as hell.
He may be taken but I still have eyes and I can appreciate a good-looking man when I see one. Hell, I can appreciate a good-looking female when I see one. Hot people are hot. Not that I would ever act on my physical attraction to Stephen, obviously, since he's my new besties man and all.
"Stephen, this is Shiloh. Shiloh, this is Stephen. He's the head chef here and my—" Dom breaks off, and swallows thickly, his mouth opening and closing at an obvious loss for words.
"Friend," Stephen interjects, shoving his hand out for me to shake.
My eyes instantly dart toward Dom’s, and I don't miss the pained expression that crosses his face. Trying not to draw attention to him or his feelings, I place my hand in Stephens with a small smile. Not going to lie. The chef's hotness factor just went down a peg based on the fact that he hurt my friend's feelings
"Nice to meet you, Stephen," I say before pulling my hand back and stepping discreetly in Dom's direction. I wind my arm through his, offering him my silent support. My guess is that there is a lengthy and possibly quite painful story behind all of this. I have a feeling that many a drunken bitch-fests are in our future.
Dom pats my arm, and regains his composure in a way that I envy. I've always worn my expressions openly, and have a difficult time hiding what I'm feeling. My mamma’s the same way, and she always blames it on our mixed Italian-Portuguese household. Growing up, she used to say that there was nothing wrong with being loud and wearing your feelings proudly.
Dom smiles his cheerful mask firmly back in place. "Right, so, like I said, Shiloh. Stephen is the answer to all of your prayers. You need a job, and he has one for you."
Stephen's eyes widen in Dom's direction, before quickly darting to me then back to Dom, then back to me. Clearly, he's just as confused as I am. "What?"
"Yeah, what?" I echo. Sliding my arm from Dom's, I step away, planting my hands on my hips before declaring, "I may love to eat, but I don't know anything about working in a kitchen!"
"Obviously." He rolls his eyes, and shakes his head at the pair of us like we're naughty children. "Stephen doesn't need any help in the kitchen. His brother, however, is looking to hire someone."
Understanding washes over Stephen's features. "Yeah, he is." Stephen nods, and reaches up to rub his large hand across the back of his neck, suddenly looking uncomfortable as he glances in my direction. His eyes track down my body, taking in my form-fitting wrap dress, high heels, and curled hair before turning back to Dom. "I don't know."
A look that I can't quite make out takes over Stephen's face immediately following his appraisal of me, as though he finds me lacking.Oh, fuck no."What the hell was that look for?" I bark out, unable to hold myself back.
His head rears back and a look of surprise replaces his distaste. "What look?"
"You. You just looked me up and down and then decided that what? I'm notgood enoughfor whatever job your brother is hiring for? Do I not meet your high standards?" My hands flail about as I stomp toward this judgmental prick. "Am I not the right type of person for the job? Do I not appear physically capable?" Poking a finger into his chest, I growl, "Whatever it is, I can do it. Don't dismiss me based on my looks."
Stephen has the decency to look ashamed and thoroughly chastised, as he peers down at me. He stares for what feels like forever before his lip tips up in a smirk. "Yeah, I think she'll do just fine."
Dom claps his hands; the loud sound jolts me out of my angry tirade. Giving him an apologetic pat on his chest, I smile at Stephen before putting some distance between us once again.
Did I forget to mention that I'm also a hothead? And what the hell did I just sign up for?