Spark (Heat #2)

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Spark (Heat #2) Page 5

by Deborah Bladon


  "The interior designer is on her way over." He glances at his smartphone. "If she makes it in time, we'll let her on camera to talk about the redesign details. If not, focus on the employees and how much it means to all of you to have Nova back."

  I'm quiet while he speaks to Barbara, one of the producers who just walked over to us. I rally my courage hoping that when the camera starts rolling I'm not going to fuck this up.

  ***

  "I have a feeling this piece will go viral." Pamela wipes the remaining tears from her cheeks. "I felt like I was there with you, Cadence, watching Nova burn to the ground."

  I rub both my hands over my face, clearing off my own tears. I planned on staying on course. I wanted to convey all the information that Hunter gave me but that went to hell when a video clip of the restaurant burning was shown to the viewers. I watched it on a monitor that the crew had set up for Pamela and Percy.

  I felt overcome almost instantly and when she turned to me, after the clip ended, to ask what I was feeling when I watched Nova being destroyed, I let it all out. She expertly guided me through a series of questions that I know weren't scripted.

  I talked about the fear I had when word spread that someone was trapped inside. I spoke about what a great place it was to work and about Tyler and Hunter's vision for the new restaurant.

  When she asked if we all planned on sticking together I told her that the tragedy had created a stronger bond and that we were all eager to get back to work to show our appreciation to Chef Monroe. I was adamant when I explained that we were determined to help rebuild his dream.

  My gaze follows Hunter as he strides quickly across the room toward me.

  Fuck. Just fuck.

  He doesn't look thrilled. He doesn't even look happy. I messed this up because I couldn’t keep my emotions in check. He counted on me to be a professional and instead I was emotional and sentimental.

  "Mr. Reynolds," I spit out his name as he nears. "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry?" He pulls me into his chest, his large arms circling my shoulders. "Cadence, you were incredible. I'm so proud of you."

  I reach up to clench the front of his dress shirt in my hands. I don't have a brother. If I did, I'd want him to be just like Hunter Reynolds. He's strong, successful and his bear hugs chase all the bad bits away.

  "I didn't talk about the new design." I pull back. "I meant to but then I saw that video clip from the news."

  "You put a real face to our story." He rests his hands on my shoulders. "You helped everyone understand what we lost, what Tyler lost."

  I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I had a job to do and I lost sight of that. "You're not upset? I didn't screw up the relaunch?"

  "Hear that?" he asks at the ping of his phone. "That's Tyler. He's been messaging me non-stop since you went on the air."

  My stomach drops. "His niece? What's happening with her?"

  He tugs his phone from the front pocket of his trousers. "She stumbled over her own feet this morning and hit her head on a wooden chair. My wife was working in the ER when Kayla and Tyler took her in."

  "Oh no," I wince. "How is she now?"

  "Emerson is good. When she saw her dad's face she stopped crying."

  I know her dad is a doctor. I heard Kayla telling Tyler that her husband, Ben, would have a look at his hand after he scorched it on the door handle at Nova. I didn't know that Hunter's wife worked with Tyler's brother-in-law. "I'm glad. Your wife works at the hospital too?"

  "Dr. Reynolds," he says proudly. "My wife Sadie is a doctor."

  I smile at the expression on his face. There's little doubt that he's in love. I can only hope that one day a man will look that in love when he says my name.

  CHAPTER 13

  "Cadence Sutton." Tyler cups my face in his hands. "What have I ever done to deserve you?"

  Taking a deep breath, I answer. "You cooked me the most succulent roast chicken that I'll ever taste in my life. There's not a woman alive who wouldn't give you anything you want after a meal like that."

  "Jesus." He exhales harshly. "I think there's a chance I might get laid tonight."

  "I'd say it's a very good chance, Chef."

  "What are you wearing under that dress?" His eyes fall to the red halter dress I'm wearing. I'd gone home after my appearance on the morning show. Tyler called me just as I stepped out of the shower to invite me to have dinner with him. I accepted immediately. I've missed being with him. The past week he's been devoted to working on Nova's rebuild and that has meant no time for the two of us.

  "If dessert is as impressive as dinner was, I'll show you later."

  His lips press against my cheek. "What if I told you that I didn’t make dessert?"

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a pink pastry box. I know the logo on the top. It's from Dobb's bakery in Brooklyn. It's a small place, outside the scrutiny of New Yorkers who think that any food worth eating is in Manhattan. I've never tasted a chocolate cake as delicious as the one made at Dobb's.

  "I'd tell you that I'm angry that you didn't share whatever was in that box from Dobb's with me."

  "I didn't hide that box?" His eyes stay trained on my face.

  My hands drop to my hips. "It's in full view. My mouth is already watering just looking at it."

  "I know the feeling." He reaches to brush his fingers against my bare shoulder. "I've wanted a taste since you walked in. Don’t make me wait a minute longer."

  I don't. I reach back to pull on the tie at the base of my neck so the dress slides off my body.

  ***

  "Tyler," I gasp as he bites my nipple.

  "When you move like that, I can't control it." He circles his hips, his cock plunging deeper inside me. "I don't want to come yet. You have to slow down."

  I can't. We were both desperate for one another even before we made it to his bedroom. The trail of our clothing that litters the hallway is testament to that. I'd yanked on the hem of his T-shirt before he reluctantly broke our kiss so he could tug it over his head. My hands had already fallen to the zipper on his jeans by then.

  My panties were lost in the frenzy. He'd fisted them after he cupped my ass cheek, ripping them from me. I groaned at the snap of the fabric against my skin before it gave way to the force.

  He hissed when I took the condom from him and sheathed his thick cock myself. I ran my hands over the length before I angled myself on top of him. I pressed the thick crest to my pussy, moaning when I lowered myself onto him. The pain was pure pleasure, the sensation of being torn apart too delicious to make me stop.

  I rode him shamelessly, my fingers focused on my furled nipples, my head thrown back in ecstasy as he chanted my name over and over with each upward thrust of his hips.

  He took advantage when I slowed, flipping us over effortlessly with his cock still inside me.

  "It's too good," I pant out in shallow breaths. "You're so fucking good."

  His mouth slides over mine, his teeth claiming my bottom lip as he pumps into me. I purr from the pain in my lip and the exquisite ache in my core that's building, rushing to the surface.

  I don't have to tell him I'm close, he can sense it. I know by his body. His thrusts slow to an easy rhythm, his cock almost sliding out before he pushes deep. Each withdraw draws a whimper, every plunge a moan.

  "Cadence," he whispers. "Baby, come. Let me hear it."

  I climax from it all, his perfect cock inside of me, the seductive sound of his voice and the sight of his face as his lips part when his own release consumes him.

  CHAPTER 14

  I offer the tablet to him. "You should take this back, Chef."

  He steps closer, his gaze on my face. "Nothing has changed since I gave that to you."

  "I thought you might want it back."

  "Why?" he asks incredulously. "Has something changed between us?"

  Yes. My heart is opening and it's scaring the hell out of me, Chef.

  "Nothing has changed," I lie. "Maribel mentioned that you were
planning on some new items for the relaunch menu so I thought you might need this."

  "Maribel needs to mind her own business." His gaze falls over my shoulder. "She almost left Nova. She got a job offer from a place in Brooklyn."

  My brow furrows. "How do you know about that?"

  He manages a small smile. "The owner called me after the fire. He said Maribel had applied there. He wanted to know if she was as good as she claims to be."

  The fact that she was offered the job means that Tyler sang her praises. I can't help but wonder if he ever discussed it with her. "She told me about the offer."

  "Did you consider leaving Nova after the fire?"

  "No." I smooth the skirt of my sundress. I'd put it back on after we made love when Tyler went into the kitchen to take a call. "I want to work at Nova."

  He moves to sit in one of the oversized chairs in his living room, motioning for me to do the same in the matching one next to him. "I'm glad. I was worried that you'd get scooped up by another restaurant. You're the most talented junior chef that we have."

  I sit, crossing my legs at my ankles. I always wear panties and without them, I feel exposed even though Tyler's seen, and touched, everything under my dress. "I wouldn’t have accepted another offer, even if one was made. I like working at Nova."

  "Our new location seats more so I'm hiring more staff. I need at least one more senior chef and a few more juniors."

  I knew that. Maribel mentioned it and then I heard Hunter telling Percy and Pamela about it before my interview. I don't know how many bodies he's bringing on board but I know that they'll fall into step with the rest of us quickly. I have no qualms about welcoming new chefs, as long as I still have the opportunity to move up the ranks.

  If he's bringing in seniors chef that means that he won't be offering promotions to the staff he has now. I'll just have to work harder to prove that I deserve it so when he does consider moving someone from junior to senior chef in the kitchen, my name will be considered.

  "More junior chefs?" I ask with a grin. "I don't have to share my station with a guy, do I?"

  "I'm personally assigning work stations. There won't be a man within twenty feet of you."

  "You're kidding, right?"

  "Do I look like I'm kidding, Chef?"

  I can't keep up the straight faced banter. I crack a smile. It's only the second time he's called me that. It may trump the 'baby' that fell from his lips when he was inside me earlier. "I can never tell with you."

  "If I could get Hunter to agree to a separate prep room just for you, I'd make that happen." His gaze locks on mine. "I know you'd never go for that. You like being in the trenches."

  "I love being in the kitchen." I hold tightly to his tablet. "I feed off the energy of everyone else in there."

  "I know that feeling." His expression softens. "My first job was at a bistro in Boston. I never wanted to leave that place. I would have slept in the middle of that kitchen on a cot if the owner wouldn't have ordered me out each night."

  I nod, confirming that I know that feeling. "It was the same for me. I've been in professional kitchens all my life. I took my first steps in one. It's in my blood."

  "You took your first steps in one?" He tugs on the drawstring at the waist of the black sweatpants he pulled on after we got out of bed. "Nova doesn't hire anyone under the age of five. They usually can't stay awake through dinner service."

  I realize my slip at the same moment he jokes about it. I try to edge my way out of it by joking too. "At least my knife skills have improved since then."

  It doesn't work. His face has changed. It's impassive now. The playfulness has slipped away and a mask of seriousness is in its place. "Did you inherit your talent from your mom or your dad?"

  I skip over that generation when I answer. "My grandma was a pastry chef. She taught me how to love and respect food."

  "So you can bake?" He looks at my hands. "You're more gifted than I realized."

  I sigh inwardly, grateful that I navigated my way around any questions about my parents. "I can bake you a cake, Chef, but there's a condition."

  "What might that be?" His brows rise with the question.

  "You'll let me feed it to you on your birthday." My chin lifts. "That's a week from Wednesday."

  "Who told you it was my birthday a week from Wednesday?"

  I laugh and tilt my head to the side. "You know who told me that."

  "Maribel?" His mouth curves into a sly grin. "I should fire her for that."

  "You should thank her for that, Chef."

  "I should thank her? Why would I do that?"

  I rest the tablet on the coffee table before I push to my feet. "You should thank her because on your birthday I'll be feeding you the most delicious cake you've ever tasted while I wear my birthday suit."

  He stands, pushing his sweatpants to his knees in one fluid movement. His long cock is hard, curving toward his belly. "I'd give anything for an early gift. All I want is a taste."

  "This time it's my turn." I move quickly, dropping to my knees in front of him. I catch him between my hands, before I slide my mouth over the plush crown.

  CHAPTER 15

  "We're planning a surprise party for Chef's birthday," Maribel whispers in my ear. "It's going to blow his mind."

  I did that last night. Technically, it wasn't his mind, but it was close enough.

  "Does he even like surprises?" Doubt punctuates my tone. I don't see Tyler as the type to embrace an experience where a bunch of people scream at him in a darkened room all in pursuit of wishing him a happy birthday.

  "Who doesn't love a surprise party?" She spits back with a fake smile.

  Me? Chef Monroe? A large percentage of the population?

  "You're going to do this on the night of his birthday?" I ask because I can't think of anything else to say. My mind is preoccupied with the internal debate that's raging inside me. Do I jump onboard this crazy train that is doomed to crash by agreeing to take part in this party or do I warn Tyler so unflattering pictures of him screaming at the top of his lungs out of fear don't inundate social media next Thursday morning?

  "That's too obvious." Maribel rolls her eyes. "We're doing it on Tuesday night because he won't suspect a thing."

  I give her credit for thinking an inch outside the box. If I was in charge of this party, I'd have it this week so he'd never suspect. No… truthfully, I'd cancel it. I know, for a fact, that Tyler is planning on seeing his sister and her family next Tuesday. He told me that last night when I asked how his niece, Emerson, is. He said she's doing great and that he'll be hanging out with her on Tuesday night when his mom arrives in New York from Boston.

  "I think he has plans on Tuesday," I say innocently. "He'll be with his family."

  Her lips curve wryly. "He thinks he's having dinner with his family. I talked to his mom. She's helping me plan the party."

  "That's great," I mutter.

  "I'll text you the details once we firm up all the plans but you've got to promise not to spill the beans, Den."

  Suddenly, the fact that she calls me by the same nickname that Sophia does, irks me. I know Mirabel means well but I feel slighted. I know it's unwarranted. I haven't met Tyler's mom yet. I spoke to his sister once. If they think a surprise party is the way to go, I need to fall in step with them.

  "I won't say a thing, Maribel." I sigh. "You tell me where to be and when to show up."

  "Will do." She touches her index finger to her lips. "We're going to give Chef a birthday he'll never forget."

  ***

  "I think he'll love the gift. I don't even know him and I love it."

  "Really?" I look across the table at Sophia. "I'm worried about it. It's only been a few weeks since the fire. You don't think it's too soon?"

  Her gaze drops to the frame in front of her. "He's moving forward, Den. He's got you to help him with that. This is just a reminder of what he worked so hard for."

  They're typical Sophia words meant to ease my anxie
ty but they don't even take the edge off. When I was thinking about a birthday gift for Tyler, I considered a dozen different things.

  I finally settled on a collage of pictures that I'd taken with my phone during my time at Nova. There's one of Tyler on the set of the morning show, another of him standing next to Darrell discussing the week's menu. My favorite is an image of him staring down at his tablet, his hand cupping his chin. He looks intense, focused and sexy as hell.

  After I had prints made of all the photographs, I took them to a framing shop and let them work their magic. The result is a tasteful representation of Tyler during his time at Nova. I bought another identical frame so that next year on his birthday, I can gift him with a collection of images I'll take at Nova's new location. That is, if we're still together, and if I'm still working for him and if he doesn't fire the lot of us after the surprise party.

  "Wait until you see the dress I'm making you for Tyler's party." Sophia lets out a sigh. "It's so hot."

  "How hot?" I cock a brow.

  "It's a 'he won't be able to keep his hands off of you' hot dress."

  "Show it to me." I skim my fingers over the edge of the frame, feeling a small sense of relief that Sophia understood the meaning of the gift. If she gets it, Tyler will too.

  "No way." She shakes her head. "I'm sewing it tonight. You can try it on this weekend. That still gives me plenty of time to do the alterations before Tuesday."

  My bottom lip juts out into a pout. "That's not fair. Can you at least tell me the color so I know what shoes I'll be wearing?"

  "Nope." She picks up a bag of potato chips from the table and rips them open. "It's a surprise for the surprise party."

  "You know I hate surprises, Soph." I motion for her to tilt the bag toward me. I reach in to grab a chip before I pop it in my mouth.

 

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