by Allie Burton
Michael and Isabel were alone.
A deafening silence filled the room. Without his sister and her fiancé to engage in small talk, what did he and Isabel have to say that wasn’t too personal? There were no kitchen noises to cover any awkwardness. The clock in the hallway ticked out the seconds. She took a sip of beer and scooted farther back into the couch. He wanted to continue the conversation about the sparks, but he needed to keep their discussion on business.
“What was the problem with the diners you spoke with last night?” He couldn’t come right out and ask what the producer wanted. “The guy with the different-colored hair.”
Michael had wanted to ask last night. That was the only reason he’d noticed she’d left the restaurant so soon. Definitely the only reason. He’d wondered if she’d had a date, possibly with the jerk Edward.
“No problem.” She peeled the label off the bottle and skewered him with a glower. “The guy’s fiancée really wanted to meet you, though.”
“Fiancée?” Michael knew Jorge wasn’t engaged. “What? I mean, why?”
She batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion. “Because you’re a hot celebrity chef.”
Her laughter tinkled, warming his heart, yet didn’t relax him. The situation with Jorge smelled similar to several-days-old fish. The man wasn’t engaged. “Did they say anything else?”
She swung her top leg back and forth, drawing his interest to the high-heeled, sexy boots. More inappropriate footwear. He didn’t mind, he appreciated. “They’re getting married at the lodge.”
No way would L.A. Jorge ever get married in a small mountain town. The fish scent grew stronger, making Michael’s stomach churn. The producer was up to something, creating drama or trouble.
“What did the reviewer say?” Isabel’s voice held excitement.
The exact opposite of Michael’s dark thoughts.
“What reviewer?” His sister swung back into the room, her excitement matching Isabel’s. “Michael, you didn’t tell us there was going to be a review of the restaurant so soon.”
“I didn’t know.” He took a swig of beer, trying to get rid of the acidic taste.
Even Danielle understood how reviews worked. An owner or head chef was notified weeks in advance. Intricate and specialized menus were planned. The best provisions purchased. The staff practiced at the various aspects of the meal.
Parker—no, Michael didn’t blame the lodge owner—Jorge had surprised them.
From the first day on the job, Michael had had surprises. He took a swig of beer. Like not knowing Isabel expected to be head chef. He took a second swig. Like not knowing the name of the reality show and how Jorge expected him to live up to the catastrophe in its name. Michael took a long swallow. Like having to plan a fake wedding for a producer who only wanted sex and drama.
Michael hated surprises, and he knew there were more to come.
* * *
After the awkward start to dinner, Isabel relaxed. She’d known Danielle, Luke, and Michael since middle school. As children there’d been no secrets—well, except for her crush on Michael. The sparks she’d denied having flickered between them at every glance and every touch. She recognized the connection, felt it, and tried her best to ignore. Her best wasn’t very good.
Bri told funny tales from high school. Luke shared adventures he’d had on the professional ski circuit. Michael entertained them with stories that could only happen in Hollywood.
He didn’t toss around names to impress. By what he said, she could tell he cared deeply about the people he worked with in Los Angeles, and wanted The Heights to succeed. He missed the L.A. life. How long would he last in Castle Ridge? Lightness flickered in her chest. She hoped if he stayed their relationship wouldn’t only spark, it would catch fire. That maybe he’d be the one.
“When do you start renovations on the old Patterson home?” Michael showed real interest in his sister and her future. Even though they’d lived far apart, he’d been a good brother. A good man. An excellent chef. A hot body.
Waves of fever overwhelmed her, cataloguing his attractiveness. She forced her gaze away from him. How many times had he caught her staring?
Every time they’d locked gazes her attraction had grown. Every time he’d sent a soft smile her way, her lungs had fluttered. Every time he spoke about something he was passionate about she fell a little deeper. Fear she’d love and lose froze her heart, but hope chiseled small cracks in the ice.
“Not until after my graduation.” Danielle’s face glowed, talking about her future. “The weather will be better for construction and Luke will be home more often. Isabel’s brother Reed is taking time away from composing to help.”
Danielle and Luke had everything. The loves of their lives, a sweet daughter, and a future. They were soulmates and planned to work together on this new project.
Isabel’s pulse slowed. She wanted a similar relationship with a man. Her glance strayed to Michael. Someone she could love and laugh with, someone to plan a future with. Examining him again, her pulse accelerated and steamed. Could he be that man? Her teenage heart had wanted him and her adult heart definitely lusted. She was getting way ahead of herself though. They’d only shared two kisses. First, she needed to make sure he stayed in Castle Ridge.
“Isabel? Isabel, are you there?” Danielle interrupted her daydreams.
“I’m here.” She waved her hand in front of herself to show her body was present, if not her mind. She needed to contribute, instead of staring at and thinking of him. “What happens to this house when you move into the bed-and-breakfast?”
“Michael can move in instead of staying at the lodge.” Luke stacked plates.
“Michael can move in now.” His sister regarded both men.
“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to intrude. You and Luke have been separated for so long, and he needs to get to know Bri. You’re a new family.”
His answer sounded rehearsed.
“You don’t want this family cramping your bachelor style.” Winking, Luke stood and took the plates to the kitchen.
Isabel’s mind rocketed to the blonde she’d seen him with at the bar. Her recent daydreams crashed. She had to remember Michael was a player.
“I’ve got the best commute.” He placed his napkin on the table. “Speaking of commutes, I should get going.”
Had he commuted to his hotel room with the blonde? Isabel hated where her thoughts were taking her. They’d just finished a fabulous and friendly meal with good friends. They’d laughed together. They’d gotten reacquainted in a positive environment. Now, she needed to get him alone and show him their first and second kiss shouldn’t be their last. Make him forget about the blonde.
She stood up quickly. “Me, too.”
Her best friend’s eyes grazed her slowly. Danielle suspected Isabel’s reason for hurrying.
After helping them clear the table, Danielle had invited them both for dinner next Sunday, and shooed them out the door. Isabel loved belonging to this family. She loved her brothers, but Reed had a new life and a new wife, and Dax was young and wild and free. Things she used to be. She was tired of dating and was ready for something more permanent. To find the perfect someone to spend the rest of her life with. Unfortunately, being ready and finding the right someone didn’t always coincide.
Observing Michael walking beside her, she wondered if he was the one. He’d pulled on a knit cap covering his gorgeous thick hair. His old ski coat pulled tight against his shoulders, emphasizing his width and how much he’d changed since he’d last worn the winter coat. His long stride slowed to wait for her. Warmth from the meal and the camaraderie kept her cozy, strolling on the shoveled sidewalk.
She swung her arms. “I don’t have a bad commute to work, either.”
Before her parents had moved to Florida, she’d bought a small house down the street from them, and only a couple of blocks from Danielle.
“Nobody who lives and works in Castle Ridge has a bad commut
e.” He sounded breezy and carefree. Being back home had made him more relaxed. “The traffic in Los Angeles is horrendous.” He spoke in the present tense, causing her tummy to twang.
“Good thing in Castle Ridge you only have to take an elevator to work.”
“Living where you work can be intrusive.” The breezy tone died, as if his wind and his relaxation had been cut off. “Someone is always watching.”
“You make it sound like you’re being spied upon.”
“Maybe I am.” He slapped the leather gloves he held against his other hand. “I definitely feel more free outside the lodge.”
Strange he’d feel that way. “Maybe you should find a more permanent place to live.” In Castle Ridge.
His silence didn’t give his thoughts away.
They reached the corner where he’d go straight to the lodge and she’d turn to go home. She couldn’t stop her frown. Their time together was over.
She pointed down the street. “I’m this way.”
“I’ll walk you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “This isn’t Los Angeles. I’m perfectly safe walking home in Castle Ridge.” She didn’t want pity-company.
“Humor me.” Except he didn’t sound humorous. He sounded serious and sad.
Why? He’d had someone else cook them a meal—a rarity for a chef.
His feet pounded on the pavement and her heels clicked. They strolled in companionable silence, each deep in their own thoughts. Her thoughts centered on him. If he stayed, he’d stay on as head chef at The Heights, which would mean she’d never get the position outright. Working beside each other as co-head chefs would be great. Having a meaningful relationship would be wonderful.
A large puff of air came out of his mouth, as if he sighed deeply. “I really didn’t know you expected to become head chef at The Heights.”
The sincerity in his voice calmed the last of the resentment she’d held. “I know.”
“I didn’t know we’d be working together.” He squeezed the gloves in his hand.
She kept walking, trying to process. Was he apologizing? “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” He grabbed her elbow and swung her around to face him. His glance roamed her face, stopping at her lips. “I can’t get my mind off the kisses we’ve shared.”
The spark between them flared to life. Her skin heated, even in the freezing night air. Her mouth tingled and she licked her lips. “Me, too.”
He leaned toward her, his body scalding hers even more. Desire throbbed through her, making her bones liquefy. She leaned toward him, mirroring his action. She wanted this kiss. His mouth was only an inch away. A filmy haze covered her gaze, the only thing she saw was his strong mouth come closer and closer and closer.
Closing her eyes, she puckered and held her breath, finding it hard to believe another kiss was finally happening. And wondering where this kiss would lead. His hand cradled her chin and his mouth grazed hers. Lightly, tentatively testing her response.
She didn’t need a test. She wanted to score.
Desire pulsed and she wanted to burst with happiness. Wrapping her arms around his lower back, she brought him closer. She opened her mouth in invitation. An invitation to deepen the kiss. Maybe more.
His tongue swept in to taste and she arched into him, needing his solid body against hers. A shiver raced down her spine, and not from the cold. From the heat.
He slipped his hands to the nape of her neck, caressing the bare skin beneath her scarf.
The shivers evolved into a cascade of trembles. Trembles of attraction. Trembles of desire. Trembles of want and need. She dug her hands beneath his jacket and sweater. Her fingers came into contact with his hot skin and carved muscle.
She wanted him naked. Wanted to see him in his muscular glory. His corded arm muscles. His broad shoulders and six-pack abs. His trim waist with a trail of hair leading to… The image made her knees buckle.
He must’ve realized her weak state because one of his hands moved behind her back to provide support. The comfort and protectiveness of the gesture layered warmth upon her scorching body. She dreamed of him picking her up and carrying her the few yards to her house.
This was what it was like to be swept away.
Swept away by his touch and his kiss. Swept away by desire.
Hooooonnnnnnkkkkk!
The noise jarred, breaking up her fog of desire.
“Get a room!” A kid hollered.
Michael stiffened. His lips stopped kissing and his hands stopped caressing. He lifted his head. His mouth formed a perfect O of shock.
The absence of his touch chilled her skin and her emotions. She wasn’t ready for this to end. Removing her hands from beneath his coat, she curled her hands around his neck and tugged his mouth back to hers.
“No, Isabel.” His raw, harsh tone sliced through her. “We can’t do this. Not here. Not in public. Not ever.”
The slicing pain dulled, and she pushed aside the rejection. If she could get him to kiss her, she wouldn’t let a car honking interrupt them again. “I think we were doing it quite well.” She grabbed his neck and tried to bring his mouth to hers a second time.
“Stop.” He gripped both her wrists and held himself away. His lips pursed in an angry line. His gaze narrowed. “I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded anguished.
The earlier pain returned. Hurt stirred into anger. He couldn’t kiss her and then tell her the kiss shouldn’t have happened. She yanked her wrists from his grip. “The kiss did happen. And it was damn fine.”
His gray glare lit for a second with desire. He took a step back. “Make it damn finer with someone else.”
His words drove a knife through her heart. The agony radiated out, whipping into an unsatisfied fury. One minute he said he couldn’t get his mind off their kisses, and the next, he pushed her away telling her to kiss someone else.
“Maybe I will.”
Her false bravado covered the misery, because no kiss had ever equaled the kisses she’d shared with Michael.
Chapter Twelve
After his daily workout the next morning, Michael stopped at the lodge’s office before heading back to his room. He’d noticed Parker wasn’t acting himself, and bet his best sauté pot it had to do with the reality show.
The office door was open. A couch and coffee table gave the room a homey atmosphere, and bookshelves lined the wall.
“Do you have a minute?”
With his head bent, Parker thumbed through a file drawer. He popped his head up and stared with a blank expression. “Isn’t it your day off?”
“I don’t know if I ever truly have a day off.” Which was a sad state. In Los Angeles, even when Michael technically had a day off, he was doing promotional events or marketing. His attention drew to the window with the mountain view, and a yearning to take time for himself hit hard. “What’s your deal with the reality show?”
Parker slammed the drawer shut. When he tried to sit up his tie got caught, yanking him to a stooped position. He opened the drawer, tugged out his tie, and closed the drawer more carefully. “What do you mean?”
Michael held in a snort. “Why is this so important to you?” His initial reasons were stupidity and desperation and a sense of loyalty to Parker. “Why did you sign up for this shit on toast?”
“Why did you?”
The counterattack had him stepping back. He wasn’t here to make a confession. He was here to get information. “I’m a television chef. It’s what I do.” He slouched against the door frame and crossed his legs in a relaxed position, even though tension curled his toes.
Tension about the show and his reasons. Tension about making things up with his friend. Tension about his conflict with Isabel.
“I’m the owner of the Castle Ridge Lodge, and I need to make it successful.” The ominous tone sounded darker and heavier than the reason suggested.
Michael didn’t want to be at odds. He’d agreed to work he
re because he wanted to help. “We should be on the same team, working together against Jorge and his machinations.”
After glancing toward the door, Parker dropped his chin in defeat. His expression darkened. “If I don’t pay back loans, I’ll have to declare bankruptcy and lose the lodge.”
The heavy mass of Parker’s pressure weighed on Michael. He’d known the financial situation at Castle Ridge Lodge was bad, he hadn’t realized how bad.
“There’s another company waiting to pounce on the property.” Parker threw himself against the back of the chair.
The lodge had been a family establishment since it was founded by Parker’s great-grandparents. The town of Castle Ridge would lose its character if a big company came in to run the lodge. And Isabel could lose the head chef position for a second time.
“My parents took out risky loans to keep the place running. We’ve been in the red for years, and I only discovered it when I took over operations.” He shook out his arms, as if trying to improve his circulation. “I’ve been searching for ways to secure additional financing without losing ownership.”
“That’s tough.”
His old friend’s face colored a bright red. “I’m even considering an arranged marriage.”
Michael lost his breath, flashing back to another time and another confession. A personal confession that had rocked his world and had affected choices every day of his life. Guilt ate at him like vinegar. He’d reacted to Parker’s openness with outrage and anger.
This time Michael needed to help his friend, not run away. “In this day and age? That’s crazy.” Especially since Parker was gay.
“It’s desperation.” Positioning his elbows on the desk, he held his head in his hands. “Which is why I agreed to the reality show. We needed the remodel, which I could never have afforded. The money I’m getting for allowing the show to film will keep us operating and independent.” He raised his head and his color had returned to normal. “I thought once the show aired, the lodge and the restaurant would become famous. I wouldn’t need to consider a marriage merger.”
