The Chef's Cutie (The River Hill Series Book 5)

by Rebecca Norinne

  But maybe not until tomorrow, she thought when he dropped his face forward to claim her mouth in a slow slide of lips and tongue that had her arching her back and panting for more. Maybe we can just focus on today.

  With each flick of Max’s wrist over the pan of portobello mushrooms, spinach, and eggs, his back muscles flexed, and Lizzie’s mouth watered. Whether it was from the sight of the sexy man in black boxer briefs wearing an “I like pig butts and I cannot lie” apron, or the delicious smells filling his kitchen, she couldn’t say. Maybe it was both. Either way, right now she was one very happy lady.

  His phone chimed on the counter next to him, and he leaned over to check it. All morning, he’d been inundated with messages, mostly from his group of friends checking in with each other to make sure they’d made it through the night unscathed. Her phone had buzzed a few times, too, but not nearly as much as his.

  Earlier, when Noah had asked how he’d ridden out the storm, Max’s response had been brief and vague, something she was supremely thankful for. They hadn’t had a chance to talk yet about what last night meant for their relationship, and until they did, she wasn’t comfortable with his friends knowing she’d spent the night.

  “That was Maeve,” he said over his shoulder. “She’s going to keep Mia until tomorrow morning. They haven’t plowed her street yet and she doesn’t want to risk driving until they do.”

  “Good idea.” Maeve drove the tiniest car Lizzie had ever seen. In fact, it was so small she wasn’t sure it could even be classified as a car. It looked more like a go-kart, thus making it completely unsuited to drive in any sort of inclement weather. Not to mention that Mia was very precious cargo.

  Max opened his mouth as if to say more, but then snapped it closed and turned his attention back to the omelet he was cooking for her. “I would have offered to pick her up myself, but I wasn’t sure what your plans were for the day.”

  Lizzie glanced down at her bare legs tucked up into one of Max’s Culinary Institute of America sweatshirts, a pair of thick hiking socks she’d borrowed from him dwarfing her much smaller feet, and then out his kitchen window. His yard was a shimmering sea of diamond white, with icicles hanging from the branches of his oak tree sparkling in the pale sunlight. Given that her car probably wasn’t any better than Maeve’s in these conditions, she’d assumed she’d be staying put a bit longer. Especially since her next door neighbor had let her know that the hill to their townhomes remained closed to traffic. No one was coming in or going out. If Max was trying to signal that he wanted her to hit the road, she honestly didn’t know where she’d go.

  “At the risk of sounding presumptuous, with all that snow—” she tilted her head toward the window “—I just figured we’d be stuck with each other a little longer.” She tried to inject a note of humor in her voice. The type that said Isn’t it funny we had sex and now you can’t get rid of me?

  He lifted his apron off over his head and tossed it onto the counter, then hoisted the sizzling pan from the fire and scooped the omelets onto a matching pair of white ceramic plates. He placed one down in front of her, then settled into the empty chair across from her with the other.

  “If I had things my way, I’d be stuck here with you clear into next week.” He winked, and scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

  She smiled back at him, knowing it hadn’t quite reached her eyes. The idea of being cooped up with Max for several days made her stomach flutter in a way she’d never experienced before. She thought the sensation was mostly positive, but a little voice at the back of her head also warned her that falling for him could prove risky. For months they’d been dancing around their attraction to one another, ignoring the certain … something … that was brewing between them. In the span of a days they’d gone from something that resembled friends into … whatever this was. They probably needed to talk about that. Figure out what their night together meant in the grand scheme of things.

  It wasn’t a conversation she was particularly looking forward to, but it was one they needed to have. They’d crossed a line yesterday—and then again last night and early this morning—that had drastically changed their dynamic. Aside from that, her life was in a period of serious upheaval, and as much as she wanted to be with Max, she had a lot to figure out before she could commit to a relationship with him.

  To a relationship with Mia, too, when it came right down to it. The girl might not be Max’s biological child, but he was effectively a single dad now, and any woman he brought into his life would need to understand that he was a package deal. Full guardianship would come through any day now, solidifying their little family unit. Lizzie didn’t want to be a third wheel to their pair, or be the woman who came between them. She’d seen it more times than she cared to remember, and even if she went into this thing with eyes wide open, she knew it could still happen.

  “About that …” she said.

  He set his fork to the side and slid his hand across the table, settling it atop hers. “I can see the wheels turning in your brain. Did I say or do something wrong?”

  She dropped her eyes down to her plate, unable to meet his penetrating gaze, and chewed on her lip as she tried to formulate her thoughts. “No, not wrong per se … just, well … you’ve got me thinking. I came here yesterday on a whim. I didn’t really intend for any of this to happen.” She raised her eyes back up to meet his. “In fact, I’d promised myself it wouldn’t. But then I quit, and … well. You know what happened next.”

  “I do. And for the record, it was everything I hoped for. No,” he said with a quick shake of his head. “It was more. You’re more, Lizzie.”

  “Maaaaax …” she drew his name out as one long syllable. She felt exactly the same way, but she was trying to be realistic, too. This wasn’t some dalliance they could walk away from when one of them tired of the other. There was a very special little girl to think of involved in all of this, and Lizzie wouldn’t risk Mia’s happiness—even if it meant ignoring her own.

  He squeezed her hand. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  His eyes bounced to the snowy yard then back to her. “Today, it’s just you and me, snowed in with nowhere else to be. No other responsibilities to think about. I’m not an idiot; I know the second the snow melts and Mia comes bouncing through the front door, this all changes. I’ll go back to being a new parent, and you’ll go back to dealing with your job situation. We’ll each go back to putting everyone else’s wants and needs in front of our own. So today, just for this short while, will you be a little selfish with me? Will you take the day to just enjoy ourselves? Enjoy what we have together?”

  She stared at him for a few beats, letting his words settle in her mind. In her heart. She’d arrived at his house a woman on a mission, while he’d been the one trying to slow that train down. But then he’d capitulated, and ever since then it was like he’d decided to stop fighting his feelings, to embrace them fully. While in a perfect world that would have been everything she wanted, they didn’t live in a perfect world, and she’d begun to worry she was going to have to be the one to put a cork in their little world of wintry make believe. Max understanding that this thing between them might only be temporary should have put her mind at ease. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

  She wasn’t sure her mind would ever be at ease again.

  Which was all the more reason for her to do what he asked. To be a little bit selfish with him, for just a little while. To take hold of the limited time they had together and make the most of it.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

  He smiled at her then, that wide, honest grin that made her insides feel all gooey and warm. “Good, now come here.” He slid his chair back, the legs scraping against the slate tile, and patted his thigh.

  Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore. Well, at least not for her omelet. She wanted to get her mouth around something much more satisfying.

  Obediently, Lizzie stood from her chair and
made her way around the table to him, straddling his lap and sinking down to settle herself against the bulge growing hard and thick beneath the black cotton covering him.

  When he groaned, she giggled. “Do you remember when you were texting me about your sausage?” she asked apropos of nothing as she scraped her fingernails through the dark hair on his chest.

  “Yeah, I remember,” he answered, his low, gravelly voice causing her to shiver. The way Max sounded when he was turned on might be the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

  “I have a confession.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  She nodded. “For a minute there, I thought you might not be talking about actual sausage. It wasn’t until I picked Mia up at the restaurant and you handed me that container that I realized you weren't subliminally talking about this.” She rolled her pelvis against him, her meaning clear.

  He chuckled. “This? You’re going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

  Lizzie cast him an exasperated look. She wasn’t a person given to dirty talk, but apparently when she had a sexy man encouraging her, she was prone to say all sorts of things she’d never uttered before. Things like “Fuck me, Max,” and “Oh god, your dick is so fucking beautiful.”

  But that had been last night. When it was dark, and they were in bed.

  Now, they were sitting in his kitchen in the bright light of day, his hard cock pulsing between her thighs. As much as she wanted to let loose that new-found side of her, she didn’t know if she could bring herself to actually say such filthy things to him here. Now. Didn’t know if she could be the type of woman who told a man exactly how she wanted him and where.

  “Max.”

  “Lizzie …” he drawled, a mischievous twinkle sparkling in his garnet-flecked eye. “Say it if you want to.”

  She did want to, it turned out. “Your dick, okay?” she laughed, loving how free she could be with him. “I thought sausage was a euphemism for your dick.”

  His lips tipped to the side in a smirk. “Wanna know a secret?”

  She nodded her head emphatically. Ever since she was a little girl, Lizzie had loved secrets. It didn’t matter how big or small, she coveted them. And once shared, she never told a soul. It was a trait that made her so good at her job. People instinctively knew they could trust her with their innermost thoughts. And right now, she wanted to know all of Max’s.

  “Yes, please. Gimme.” She made grabby hands at him, and he smiled at her with adoration for a brief moment before his grin turned positively feral.

  “You were right,” he said, his voice a strange mixture of lust and humor that was so uniquely him. “I was talking about my dick, but when I realized I’d been less than subtle about it, I panicked. Luckily I had all the ingredients available in the walk-in. I’ve never whipped up a batch that quickly in my life.” By the time he was done talking, his chest was bouncing with laughter, his abs flexing into sharp ridges.

  Lizzie smacked his chest playfully. “I knew it!”

  He swiped at his eyes. “You had me pegged all along.”

  Something about knowing her unbridled lust hadn’t been one sided was supremely satisfying. Knowing that he’d been thinking about fucking her while sending her seemingly innocuous texts made her pulse race. Made her even more cognizant of the hard pressure pressed against her core.

  Lizzie wasn’t a woman prone to having sex in the middle of the afternoon. In a kitchen. She didn’t reach down, pull a man’s cock out of his underwear, and squeeze it between shaking fingers. She wasn’t someone who pushed up onto her toes, hooked her underwear to the side, and rubbed that cock against her slick, swollen entrance.

  She wasn’t a woman who did any of this. And yet with Max, maybe she was.

  “Do you wanna know a secret?” she asked, mimicking his earlier question while batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

  “Yeah,” he grunted, pupils blown black with desire.

  She leaned forward, her slick body teasing him with the movement. “I’ll always want your sausage,” she whispered huskily into his ear as she rolled her hips over him for added emphasis.

  He gripped them roughly to still her movement. “You’re dangerous.”

  She leaned back and shrugged playfully. “Who knew?”

  He chuckled, dark and low. “Oh, I knew, all right.”

  “Max?” she breathed.

  “Yeah?”

  “Take me to bed.”

  Abruptly, he pushed up from his chair, hoisting her up with him, and she wound her legs around his waist and twined her arms around his neck. In no time at all, they were down his hallway and stumbling into his bedroom. Soon, she was on her back and he was rolling a condom down his length. And then she was parting her legs and he was pressing against her.

  “And I’ll always want you.”

  And then he was in her, and she was screaming his name.

  13

  Twenty-four hours with Lizzie naked in his bed wasn’t nearly enough, but it was all he was going to get. Just a few selfish moments in between bouts of homework, heated discussions with farmers over their wilted produce deliveries, and interviews with new servers. And yet, limited though their time together had been, he didn’t regret a single second of it. In fact, as he opened the front door for her and tucked her scarf firmly into the collar of her coat, he let his fingers linger on her shoulders for a few minutes, wondering if he should have asked for more.

  She smiled up at him.“Ready to take on the future?” she asked, and he felt it like a punch in the stomach. The future. That uncertain, nebulous thing hanging over their heads. The reason he hadn’t asked for more than just a day with her.

  “You know it,” he said, pasting on his best grin and leaning in for one last kiss. He had to make it count.

  “Mmm.” She pulled away before his hand could slide under her coat and settle against her hip. “If you keep doing that, I’ll never get out the door.”

  Sounds good to me, he thought. But the plows had finally come through, and Maeve would be here with Mia soon. There was schoolwork to organize, lunch to make, and work to do. He let Lizzie go. “See you soon?”

  She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. “Hope so.” They hadn’t ever quite managed to have the ‘what’s next?’ talk. And he wouldn’t push her. Couldn’t push himself, either. She had a job hunt to undertake, and he had a kid who needed him and a restaurant to run.

  “Yeah. Me too.” He realized there was nothing else to say, so he watched her carefully pick her way through snow and ice down to her car, and potentially out of his life. He waved her off, keeping an eye on her vehicle as it navigated the narrowly-plowed street until she turned the corner at the end of the road and disappeared. Suddenly, he realized how cold he was out here on his stoop. “Shit.” He wasn’t even wearing shoes.

  He slammed the door closed and went to check his phone. Mia’s school had sent an automated texted to alert everyone they would be closed again today, but he didn’t have the luxury of keeping Frankie’s closed. If he and enough of his staff could get in, they’d open up right on time and start feeding the citizens of River Hill, many of whom were still without electricity and would need to seek sustenance elsewhere. He found a notepad and scratched a few notes. They could easily add a quick chili to the menu for both lunch and dinner. Maybe something with potatoes, too. He’d need to start making calls to vendors as soon as he got in to check who’d been able to save what. What a mess.

  The faint scrape of tires against packed snow let him know that Mia and Maeve had arrived. He opened the door for his niece, waved to Maeve to let her know she could stay in her warm car, and let reality settle back over him. His wintry interlude with Lizzie was over.

  The rest of the day, predictably, was pure chaos. He took Mia to the restaurant with him, tucked her in a corner with her homework, and got to work. Customers started pouring in by noon, and the rush never ended. Wendy ruled the kitchen with an iron fist while he helped out anywhere and everywhere he could;
racing out to pick up an extra case of root vegetables a local farmer offered at a discount given the frost, picking up service at a table here and there, and doing time behind the bar.

  He even managed to help Mia with a math problem on his way to wipe down the booth behind her, although when she asked him for help with another one further down the page he threw up his hands in despair and yelled for one of the waitresses who was in college to come help her. “Turns out middle school math is too hard for me,” he said as he traded his dishcloth for her apron. “I’ll grab table eleven for you.”

  He didn’t see most of his friends all day, since they had their own businesses to take care of. He assumed Sean was as busy as he was across the square at The Breadery, and Jess was probably helping out. Angelica and Noah had texted yesterday that they expected to get The Oakwell’s long drive plowed this morning, and then spend all day over in the vineyard with his crew assessing the grapes. Maeve and Ben volunteered for several organizations in town, so they were probably being good citizens and helping out somewhere. Iain and Naomi hadn’t responded to any group texts after she’d sent one that was just the fire emoji followed immediately by the eggplant one, so he assumed they were holed up in their house like he and Lizzie had been earlier. Only, of course, they got to stay that way.

  Eventually, however, the gang all trickled in toward the end of the dinner rush. Noah and Angelica were first, looking wiped out and wet from tramping through icy, wet grapevines all day. Maeve and Ben followed, looking as annoyingly perky as they always did, and Noah grumbled at them over his beer. “Can’t you two at least look tired?”

  “We just get so many endorphins from helping people, Noah,” Ben responded with a shit-eating grin. God, he was cocky.

  “Endorphins, my ass,” Angelica moaned. “She’s ten years younger than I am, and you spend every free hour you have at the gym.” She draped herself dramatically across the bar. “Give me something deeply alcoholic, Max.”