Page 13 of A Very Grumpy Chef

“So, you’d be open to another date with me?” I ask hopefully.

“Yeah.”

“I have Monday off. We can grab dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll text you,” I promise.

Coco nods, shifting on her feet.

Nerves hit me again, but I decide to go for it. I lower my head toward hers, closing the distance between us slowly, giving her time to pull back, but she doesn’t.

Her breath catches, and for one terrifying second, I think I’ve misread everything. Then her hand curls into the front of my shirt, and she rises onto her toes.

Our lips meet softly. Just a brush at first, warm and sweet, but it’s enough to make my heart pound against my ribs. I pull back barely an inch, searching her face.

“I really like you,” I whisper.

“I really like you too,” she breathes, tugging me closer.

I kiss her again, sliding one hand around her waist. Her lips part beneath mine, and every thought in my head disappears. She tastes faintly of chocolate, and I fight back a groan as I deepen the kiss. Coco’s fingers tighten in my shirt while my other hand comes up to cradle her cheek.

I’ve spent years creating meals people remember, combining flavors and textures until they’re perfect, but nothing has ever hit me like the taste of Coco. Nothing has ever made me feel so hungry and completely satisfied at the same time.

She makes a soft sound against my mouth, and it nearly destroys what little control I have left. I force myself to slow down, brushing my thumb over her cheek as I give her one last lingering kiss.

When I finally pull away, we’re both breathing harder than we were before. Her cheeks are pink, her lips slightly swollen, and she looks so beautiful that I almost forget I’m supposed to leave.

“Monday,” I whisper, then groan as she licks her lips. I want to kiss her again, but I need to get back to work. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

She nods and opens her door. I wait until it closes before I turn and jog back downstairs to my car. I can’t stop smiling as I pull out into traffic and drive back to Palmers.

As I step into the kitchen, I feel it. That familiar spark of inspiration. I know it’s because of Coco. I replay our date as I move to the counter and get to work on the new menu.

7

Coco

Why do Mondays always start off so rough?

It’s been a hell of a day since I first opened my eyes this morning. I slept in, then almost locked myself out of my car when I realized I’d forgotten my lunch upstairs in my apartment. Then I dealt with the worst couple I’ve ever met. Nothing was right, and the whole engagement shoot took way longer than I expected.

Now it’s close to seven pm, and I’m running late. I was supposed to meet Alec for our date an hour ago. I texted him earlier to let him know I was running behind, but I didn’t think it would be this much later.

As I park out front, I hurry to gather my things and hustle up the steps to my place. I freeze in my tracks when I see Alec leaning against my front door. He grins when he spots me.

I wince. “I’m so sorry. It’s been the day from hell.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse,” I grumble. “I’m not sure I’ll be great company tonight. Truthfully, the last thing I want to do right now is get dressed up and go out. Can we reschedule?”

“How about we do something low-key instead?” he offers as I slip my key into the lock.

“Like what?”

“Put on your pajamas and meet me at my place.”