Page 68 of Risk It All
Without giving it another thought, I took a couple of long strides to close the distance between us and pulled her against me, crashing my lips against hers. She melted into me immediately, parting her lips and sliding her hands up my chest. As much as I didn’t want to stop, I pulled away before someone walked into the kitchen but kept Eliza close to me. Her eyeswere hooded and heavy as she looked up with her mouth slightly parted.
“That’s quite a thank-you,” she murmured, sliding her hand down and fiddling with one of the buttons on my chef’s coat.
“I’m very,verygrateful.” My tone was lighthearted, but I meant it—and I liked that it’d meant she’d been thinking about me. “Thank you.” I squeezed her hip before dropping my hand. “I’ll have some now and then finish the rest when I get back tonight.”
“You’ll have to let me know what you think.” When the door swung open and Ray walked in, Eliza took a small step back for me. “Do you like to try food from different restaurants?”
I nodded. “It’s one of my favorite things, actually. I haven’t tried Pasta Fresca yet, and I happen to love spaghetti bolognese, so I’m excited to try it. I love seeing how chefs create a classic recipe just as much as trying food that is different and out there.”
“Sounds like we have some progress to make before you leave town.” She grinned.
I looked down at her and couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds like we do.”
“I’ll let you finish up here before the meeting. Um, I guess if you wanted to you could eat while I’m getting the bar set up? Unless you had to get going right away?”
“No, that sounds good. I think it should be a short meeting today from what Wes told me earlier.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.” Eliza gave me another smile before stepping back. She peered past me and waved. “Hey, Ray!”
The older chef grunted a hello, and Eliza made her way through the swinging doors. Once she was gone, I turned to find Ray chuckling to himself.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head, looking at me with a grin. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
After our weekly staff meeting, I changed out of my chef’s coat and quickly wrapped up the day before heading out to the bar. I sat on one of the stools while Eliza set up for the night.
Since customers weren’t walking in yet, I’d brought up the two to-go containers from Pasta Fresca, along with silverware, and went for the spaghetti bolognese first.
“Damn,” I hummed after my first bite, the flavors bursting on my tongue. “That’s fucking good.”
“Isn’t it?” Eliza asked with a grin. “That’s what I got today with a salad. We went when the lunch deal was still going on, and you can mix and match dishes on the menu.”
“Is Italian food typically your favorite, then?” With how passionately she talked about the restaurant and how much she enjoyed the gnocchi, I had to imagine it was among her favorites.
She tilted her head to the side, wiping down the wooden bar top. “Maybe? It’s hard to pick a favorite. I also love tacos and burgers. Oh! Indian and Thai food, too. I’ll pretty much try everything. What about you?”
“I’ll try just about anything and everything, too, but I love a good burger or Italian beef. You can’t go wrong with that, but the Italian beefhasto be from Chicago. That’s a nonnegotiable.”
“Well, if I find myself in Chicago, I know who to call for a recommendation.”
Eliza and I continued chatting while she got set up for her shift. There was something peaceful and comfortable about being in her presence and this natural routine we’d gotten into. Being around her both calmed and awakened something in me.
Fifteen minutes later, I got ready to head out. With my hands on the bar top, I stood from my stool. Eliza paused wiping down the bar, her hand brushing lightly against mine, so quick no one else would notice but deliberate at the same time.
“Have a good shift,” I said, my voice low.
“Have a safe drive,” she said, eyes locked on me.
Whatever passed between us settled low and steady in my chest. I lingered a second longer than necessary then tapped my fingers once against the bar near hers before stepping back.
I was wrong.
Eliza wasn’t trouble.
She was dangerous.
I forced myself to turn and head out before I did something reckless, already thinking about the next time I’d see her as I made my way back to my apartment to drop off the leftovers in the fridge and begin the drive to Maple Bluffs.
