Finally, he poured my glass of wine after I’d downed most of the water. He brought it over to me, taking the stool next to mine. “How was your night?”
Twisting the stem between my fingers, I swirled the crimson Cabernet until it made a tornado in the glass. “Ezra stopped by,” I said without looking at his face.
When I looked up, Killian’s shoulders were tense, and the humor had drained out of him. Tension thickened the air. “He told me.”
I found myself ensnared by his heated glare. “Is that what you want to talk about?”
His chin dipped once. “He mentioned that he offered you Bianca.”
I swallowed against the absurdity once more, still unable to believe that happened. I’d replayed the conversation so many times by now I had started to wonder if it had actually happened or if I’d somehow imagined it. “Crazy, right?”
“No, completely understandable. Ezra’s not an idiot—I knew he’d come for you eventually.”
My chest hollowed out, my heart dropping to my toes in disappointment. “You don’t sound pleased.” I wanted to make an excuse for Killian’s boorish behavior. I wanted to explain away his disappointment with me being offered a full kitchen. What was it with men and trying to keep me locked away? Fury boiled in my belly, spreading with acid-fueled frustration through my blood.
Killian shook his head, adamant. “I knew this was going to happen for you. I just didn’t realize it was going to happen so soon.”
“Well, not everyone thinks I have an issue with salt,” I bit back. I was so done with defending my career to egotistical maniacs. Done. Over it.
But before my head could explode with irrational anger, I breathed out slowly, realizing for the millionth time that Killian wasn’t Derrek. That maybe my defensiveness could be dialed back until I heard him out.
Killian’s open gaze bored into mine. “Is that what you want then? Bianca?”
I nibbled on my bottom lip, before answering honestly. “It’s what I thought I wanted, before Foodie. But now I don’t know what to think. Honestly, at this point, I’m just happy to have been considered.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
His tone caught me off guard, and I leaned away from him, afraid I’d pissed him off and not able to squash the instant reaction to run and hide. “What do you mean?” I whispered.
Not catching my panic attack, Killian sat up straight and leaned forward. “You’re not a consolation prize, Vera. You’re a phenomenal chef. Ezra figured it out in the shortest amount of time, but soon the entire city is going to be buzzing with your name. There will be more offers for kitchens, more head chef positions to choose from. I’m glad you’re happy to be considered, but think bigger… better. Don’t just take the first thing thrown at you because that’s all you think you’ll ever get. Decide what you want in life. What do you want out of a kitchen? If Bianca is what you’re looking for, then take it, but don’t do it because you’re afraid there won’t be anything else. There will be, Vera. There will be everything else.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to say or think or feel.
“I’m just saying, decide what you want. You have options.”
I blinked. “Like what?”
He’d been full of energy when he’d told me I deserved Bianca. His body had been vibrating with enthusiasm and sincerity. His hands moved animatedly, and his eyes practically glowed with intensity.
Now he was still and stoic. It was like stepping out of a hurricane and into an air-conditioned room. His body stopped moving, his expression shuttered, his eyes darkened, a wall falling in place and hiding his thoughts from me.
I preferred the hurricane.
Until he spoke. And then I realized he was protecting himself. He’d pulled back to ready himself against my reaction.
But what he should have done was warn me to do the same thing. If I thought his words of affirmation were shocking, I had no way to prepare myself for what came next.
“Like me,” he pitched gently and at the same time with so much weight and possibility that my knees nearly buckled beneath it. “Like us. We could do something together. Open something together.”
I tried to take a deep breath and failed. “Us? You want to open something with me? You’re serious?”
He must have seen something in my expression because his wariness turned soft and tender. His distance became a careful touch as if he were handling something so incredibly fragile and precious. “I’m serious. Modern American with flare. It’s not original, but our dishes would be. It wouldn’t be your own kitchen, per say. But you would have someone to share the burden with… the commitment.”
I tried to breathe deeply again. And failed again. “Killian…”
He wrapped his hand around mine, closing it into a fist. I hadn’t even realized I was reaching for him, that I’d perched on the edge of the stool readying to throw my arms around him. “Don’t answer now,” he said quickly. “Think about it. Take your time. I’m asking a lot.”
He had no idea what he was asking. It was so much more than a restaurant or business venture. He’d looked all the way down the road and decided he wanted me to take a chance with him. He’d promised commitment in either a relationship or partnership that extended into a potentially very messy future. “You want to open a restaurant with me?” My voice was small, delicate. Breakable.
His gaze held mine with bewitching clarity, a faint smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Yes, Vera, I want to open a restaurant with you. I want to do a whole lot more than just open a restaurant with you, but we could start there. This thing between us is real. I’m not going to stand in the way.”
“How do you know?”
“What?”
“How do you know that it’s real? That we’re real? That you want to tie yourself to me in such a permanent way? What if we break up or end up hating each other? What if we end up hating each other because of the restaurant? This is a huge commitment, Killian. How do you know I’m the right person?”
His face relaxed, and so did his shoulders. He tightened his grip on my hand and slid to the edge of his stool too, so that our legs were slotted together and his body heat warmed my exposed skin, pulling goosebumps from my arms. “It’s here.” He put my hand flat against his chest. “You’re here.”
His heart thumped against my open palm. Fear strangled me. Panic clawed at my stomach and settled in my bones. “But what if I don’t stay there?”
He shook his head, a look of utter determination transforming his expression. “It’s not like that. You can’t just come and go as you please.” He tugged on his beard with his free hand and thought about it for a second before explaining. “It’s more like… like this. When I got to Jo’s and got to know Ezra, for the first time in my life I realized I didn’t have to be alone. I’d found my family. It was a poignant moment in my life that I can still picture to this day. I probably wouldn’t have picked them myself.” A playful smile danced across his mouth. “But once it happened, it was done. I can no more stop loving them than they can stop loving me. And when I found cooking. It was like this thing that just clicked. Or fastened. Or came together. I knew it was my calling. I’d found my purpose in life.” His green eyes glittered with truth. “And with you. I found you, and there was this tug to get to know you, to find out everything I could about you. I couldn’t ignore it. Hell, I didn’t want to ignore it. As soon as I opened the door, you became more. You were significant and important and right. You settled inside me like you were always meant to be there. I found you, Vera, because I was supposed to find you.” It was impossible to breathe at this point. This man, this brilliant, talented, gorgeous man had just poured out his heart to me, and I was going to die before I could respond because I’d stopped breathing. He continued. “At some point, we’ll fight. In the future, things might get difficult. I’m never going to be an easy person to get along with. But, Vera, on the other hand, we can fight for each other. Life will likely get difficult wheth
er we’re together or not, so why not tackle it together? And I might be an asshole, but I’m an asshole that cares a very great deal for you. In fact, I might even love you.”
Basically it was impossible to breathe now. I had probably turned purple. “You what?”
His hands moved up my forearms, gripping for support. Whether it was for him or me, I didn’t know. “I love you, Vera. I do. I love you.”
My heart fluttered, jumped, and then threatened to climb into my head, taking control of my body. It was staging a military coup against my brain and my ability to think logical, rational, clear-thinking thoughts. And I was just so close to letting it. “I love you too.” The words were out of my mouth before I’d fully decided to say them. And there went my heart again, clapping… applauding… deciding right along with me that I did. I loved him. These feelings, so soul deep and life changing, were more than temporary or fleeting. They had been fought hard for. First by us as we struggled to make sense of each other. Then as we pushed beyond our pasts, beyond everything that had damaged and scarred us. Deciding I wanted to say it again, this time with clarity, I whispered, “I love you, Killian.”
Awe and joy and that same emotion, that confident love, shown from his eyes. “I love you. And I believe in you. I believe in us.”
Remembering his initial restaurant pitch, I asked, “You believe in us like as business partners?”
He slid closer to me, pressing his legs against mine, settling his hands on my hips. “Yeah, sure, business partners. I believe in us as business partners.” He dropped a kiss on my nose. “And other partners too.” Another kiss to the corner of my lips. Just beneath my ear, in that spot that drove me crazy. “Actually, any kind of partners. I think we make a good team.”
I laughed, because honestly, this man. “You think we make a good team?”
His mouth found mine, kissing away the laughter. “Yes, we make a good team.” He kissed me again, his lips moving and tasting and worshiping, making my toes tingle and my belly heat with anticipation. “Just think about the restaurant idea. If you decide it’s crazy, tell me. But if you decide maybe it’s not so crazy… you know, tell me that too.”
Yes, sat on the tip of my tongue. But I had thrown myself into a relationship with another chef that made oh, so sweet promises before. It hadn’t ended well. And while I knew that Killian was nothing like Derrek, I still hesitated. “You’re out of control, Killian Quinn. I hope you know that.”
He nudged my knee to the side so he could fully step between mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held onto his t-shirt with two fists. He didn’t bother with a verbal answer. He just started kissing me again. And that was all it took.
All it took for me to relax into this very new relationship of ours. All it took for me to stop questioning and doubting and fearing every little thing.
All it took for me to give up whatever control I had left and give into his kiss and his touch and his crazy ideas that could never, possibly work.
Open a restaurant together? That was insane.
Insane.
And also brilliant.
My mind spun and spun and spun with pros and cons and the different scenarios and possibilities. But there were just too many unknowns. I couldn’t possibly predict what would happen if I gave up on the two tangible futures I had- Foodie or Bianca- and went wild card with my future.
I pulled back from Killian when my thoughts would no longer stay silent. “You would really give up Lilou to risk everything with me?”
He cupped my face with his strong, calloused hands and held my gaze. “Didn’t I just tell you I loved you? I would give up a hell of a lot more to risk everything for you, Vera.” He shrugged one shoulder in an easy up and down bounce. “Lilou is replaceable. I know I can work in any kitchen in any restaurant and cook anybody else’s food. What I want to do is work with you in our kitchen in our restaurant making our food. I want to be challenged and pushed and held accountable for this talent of mine. I can think of no other person that does all three of those things as effortlessly as you. Challenge me. Push me. Make me a better chef and a better person. And I promise to do the same for you. I promise not to stop challenging or pushing you until we find out just how crazy genius you are.”
I blinked at him, terrified and overjoyed and panicked all at the same time. “I can’t believe I’m thinking about this.”
He kissed the corner of my mouth, teasing me with his mouth and hot, roaming hands. “I can’t believe you haven’t said yes yet,” he countered on a rumbled murmur. “I’m not going to rush you, Vera. I want you to take your time and think it over. And then, go with your gut.”
I laughed gently, brushing my lips along the scruff of his jawline, his beard softly scratching against my skin. “You think my gut will lead me to you.”
He nodded, not even trying to hide his smugness. “I know it will lead you to me. Just like mine would lead me to you.” Without giving me time to respond, he kissed me.
And kept kissing me.
He kissed me so thoroughly I eventually wrapped my entire body around him and let him carry me to his bedroom.
Leaving the lights off, he tossed me on cool sheets and a rumpled comforter, then followed me down. Our bodies fit together in tangled seduction as he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me. Our hands moved over each other—greedy, seeking, discovering. And then our mouths joined in the chase, tasting each other’s skin and bodies and secret places as we gasped for breath, numb and tingly with satisfaction.
Our clothes disappeared, one piece at a time until we were nothing but naked, hot skin and blinding desire. Need pooled in my core, want pulsing through every inch of my body.
Killian hovered over me, sitting back on his knees to take a moment to admire my body. Even in the darkness, it wasn’t easy to stay still. Insecurities twisted the beauty of our moment, whispering poisonous lies about my body, about what he would think of me. I wanted to be confident and clear-minded, but his gaze was too hot, too searing.
When I covered my breasts with a self-conscious arm, he tsked and reached for my hand. He laid it against my side so he could look at me once again. “Lovely,” he whispered with a husky, lust-filled voice. “So fucking lovely.”
My heart kicked in my chest. I wanted to say the words back to him, but I doubted he wanted to hear that I thought he was lovely too—gorgeous. He was perfect. All toned muscles and tanned skin. His tattoos blurred in the dark room, but I had them memorized by now. He made my mouth dry, and my insecurities melt away.
This man was mine.
Lifting my hands, I circled them around his neck and pulled him back to me. Our mouths found each other instinctively, and our hands moved over each other’s bodies, learning the way, discovering all the wonderful, intimate things that drove the other crazy.
When at last, his knees spread my thighs open, I was gasping desperate pleas for more against his mouth. He reached for a condom from the nightstand and fumbled for longer than I would have liked.
“Killian!” I growled.
He figured it out and swooped down. His chest brushed against mine, his length pressing at my core. “So impatient,” he murmured.
And then there was no more reason to complain. He moved inside me, filling, satisfying, driving me to a breathless precipice. We found our rhythm, pushing, pulling, the way we always were together.
My legs wrapped around his waist, needing him deeper. His kisses trailed over my throat, down to my collarbones. He took a nipple in his mouth, and I arched against him, desperate for more… for everything. And then he gave it to me. We came together in a panting, sighing, gasping harmony. Fireworks exploded behind my eyes and every part of me tensed in delicious climax.
He was all tight muscle and hungry need until it was over, then he settled next to me in a languid pile of satisfaction. “I love you, Vera Delane.”
It was less of a shock now, now that I was half dazed from sensation and bliss. “I love you too, Killian Quinn.”
We fell asleep bare naked and totally intertwined, legs, arms and torsos wrapped together in sated intimacy. He held me through the night, and my heart responded to the sweetness of his touch with clear acceptance.
I woke up thinking crazy thoughts about our future together… about our kitchen. I woke up smiling and laughing and delirious with happiness. Which was probably why I stayed with him all morning. He kept me close, never taking his hands off me, not even when he made the best pancakes I had ever had. I mean, ever. I mean the best pancakes in the history of pancakes.
It was also probably why I didn’t shut down his restaurant idea. Not the night before. Not in the morning. And not when he dropped me back at my car.
I didn’t even shut it down when he sent me a reminder text later that afternoon to just “Think about it.”
So instead of going away, this impulsive, short-sighted, irrational idea grew like a weed instead.
Or a flower.
It grew like a tree that had started as a fragile seed but now stretched toward heaven with heavy, fruit-filled limbs, a thick, sturdy center and roots that plunged deep in the dirt. Maybe his idea wasn’t totally crazy.
Maybe, just maybe, I’d started to realize how very brilliant he was instead.
Twenty-Five
I flung the door of Foodie open and practically threw the crates of food inside. Thank God, Killian had insisted I store them at Lilou because I was running way too late to have made it to the commissary today.
Granted, I decided my hours and if my customers had to wait, then so be it. Except I couldn’t get myself to relax! I’d stayed way too late at Killian’s this afternoon. Then I’d wasted even more time sitting on the edge of my bed thinking about his offer.
Killian Quinn wanted to open a restaurant with me.
With me.
He wanted to open a restaurant with me.
It was so crazy I almost didn’t believe it happened. Throw on top of it the offer to audition for Bianca? What was happening to the world!
Opposites Attract: The complete box set Page 29
