by Jill Haven
“You know what? I’ll pass your kind words of congratulations on, save bothering August on his one day off.” Brody laced his words with sarcasm and a heavy dose of disinterest. “Go ahead and call back when you’re ready to be a proper brother. You take care now.” He fired his parting shot and hung up without waiting for a reply. Then he looked at me. “Sorry about that, August. That guy just really chaps my ass. Who does he think he is?”
“Yeah, too little, too late,” Griff chimed in, nodding his head in agreement. “Don’t worry, dude. We’ve got you.”
“Thanks, guys.” I looked down, blinking back the sudden rush of tears. I had good friends. Great ones. “I really appreciate it.”
I didn’t ask what Dawson had said to Brody. Hearing Brody’s end of the conversation had been enough, and I didn’t want Dawson reeling me back in to where he could leave me all over again.
Brody threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into an awkward hug. “It’s nothing. We’ve always got your back. That’s what brothers are for, right?”
“Hey, guys, everything all right here?”
I opened my eyes at the familiar voice, smooth and warm, and the subject of all my fantasies. My balls tightened just hearing it, and I pushed away from Brody, disentangling from his arms.
I forced out a short laugh and brushed the back of my hand over my eyes, checking for any escaped tears. “Absolutely fine.”
“Want to join us, Ewin?” Griff moved up in his booth and indicated the empty seat.
But Ewin ignored the offer and his deep brown gaze held mine. My breath caught at the intensity of his chocolate stare, but I couldn’t even blink to free myself. “Are you sure everything is all right here, August?” He seemed to grind out the words, but urgency flashed through his gaze, as if my answer really mattered.
I nodded and waved a hand dismissively. “Absolutely. Nothing to see here.” I laughed again, but it sounded juvenile and giggly, so I choked it back on a cough.
“Hmm.” Ewin drew his brows together, creating a crease in his beautiful forehead.
I clasped my fingers together to stifle the urge to reach out and smooth it away for him.
He narrowed his eyes at Brody, his glare radiating enough heat that we all should have felt it, then he looked toward the ceiling before taking a long blink and giving his head a slight shake.
After a breath or two, he looked directly at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, August.” Then he nodded as if he’d said something important.
I watched him walk away, striding past the pool table toward Ryker’s office in the back.
“Duuude.” Brody blew out a breath. “Did someone just dial up the heat in here or is August burning up?”
I looked at him. “Can it. We just discussed this.”
“Seriously, you need to take your shot with him.” Brody widened his eyes. “That was pure chemistry.”
I huffed and shook my head, my fingers clenching and unclenching around the handle of my beer. “You’re nuts. We barely exchanged two words.”
Brody shook his head, then effortless as any tag team, Griff jumped in. “August.” He sighed. “Even I could see that your boss seemed a little jealous of how close you were to Brody. That was kind of hot, even if he is a bit of a grandpa.”
I shook my head. “Ewin isn’t jealous. That’s crap.”
“Oh, yeah?” Griff pushed his hair from his forehead and drank a mouthful of beer. “I’m just sayin’, dude. You didn’t see that man’s face when he spotted you in Brody’s arms.” He shook his head. “Looked like jealousy to me.”
I grabbed a fry then tossed it back on my plate. Cold. “Then you need your vision checked.”
Neither of my friends laughed, and I struggled to meet their gazes, suddenly awkward as I warred with alternating feelings of amusement and hope. I glanced in the direction Ewin went, but he was no longer visible—probably tucked in Ryker’s office doing whatever old friends did.
I shook away my own flicker of jealousy. It didn’t matter what Griff thought he’d seen—or what Brody wanted me to do about it. I had one shot at being a chef, and I wasn’t about to screw it up. It was hard enough for omegas to make their way in the world with the constant threat of pregnancy, anyway. My head would win this one over my heart.
Ridiculous anticipation wound through me as I walked into work the next day. The unwelcome ideas Brody and Griff had planted in my head yesterday hasn’t gone anywhere. In fact, my traitorous head had let them stick around and make themselves comfortable. All morning, I tried not to notice Ewin as he worked alongside me. I was so sure he was gay…so sure. But what if that was just because my heart wanted him to be?
Apparently, I couldn’t trust my instincts as much as I thought. As if I’d conjured it with my thoughts, his spicy scent swirled around me, and I took an extra deep breath, drawing it deep into my chest. My head swam with the sensation, and the taste of honey lingered on my tongue as I reached across Ewin to grab the salt.
“Ah…” He flicked his fingers my way as I added the white grains to my pot.
Grains rather than grounds or chunkier granules worked better in this dish. I’d tweaked it at home during one of my practice runs. “What?” I looked at him. Confusion buzzed through me—he didn’t usually interrupt me while I was working. Truth be told, he rarely had to, a feat I was impressed with.
“Did you mean to add sugar?”
“What? Shit! No!” I took a pinch of the white grains and dropped them onto my tongue. The sweet taste immediately filled my mouth, and I groaned. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I’m an asshat. Damn it.”
Ewin chuckled gently. “No harm done.”
I backed away from him, a sudden burst of temper flooding me and making me want to slam my cooking pot against the nearest hard surface. Shit. Such a basic mistake and in front of Ewin. Because of Ewin. Shame overrode the anger, and I ducked my head.
“Hey, it’s no big deal,” he murmured. “Mistakes aren’t bad. If anything, they’re the proof you’re trying.” He shrugged, clearly mistaking my shame for embarrassment.
But I hadn’t made the mistake because I didn’t know better. I’d done it because I couldn’t get Ewin out of my mind. I blamed Brody, and I blamed Griffin, but most of all I blamed myself. I just couldn’t stop wondering if Ewin Storm was gay.
And if he was interested in me.
“Take a moment. Go and grab yourself a drink from out front. I’ll clear this up.” Ewin urged me toward front of house, and I didn’t protest. An ice water would probably help cool some of the desire burning in my gut.
After five minutes, but before I started to slosh as I walked, I returned to the kitchen. Jared shoulder checked me as he walked by.
“Basic mistakes, Lennox?” He tutted and shook his head.
But I couldn’t afford the energy to reply. I looked at my cleared workstation and emptied my mind of all distractions, forcing thoughts of alpha Ewin into a box that I locked up tight so I could regain his approval and confidence. I shook my head at the ridiculous rookie mistake. What a dumbass.
As I reached for my equipment to begin again, Ewin edged a little closer. “Have fun, take care, and put your heart into it,” he murmured.
And I nailed it. Even the salt grains.
Ewin grinned as he swallowed his third mouthful.
“I thought you only wanted a taste,” I teased.
“Second and third opinion,” he countered. “And you’re right about using the grains of salt. I might make that recipe change across the brand.”
Satisfaction replaced my earlier shame. I’d done it.
Then I tensed as Ewin placed his hand on my lower back, heat radiating right through me at his firm presence.
“Good job, August.”
A shiver of anticipation swept through me as I waited to see what he’d do next. But when he removed his hand, the memory of his touch lingered, scorching my skin. My crush was eating me up, and I had to know.
I wouldn’t be able to
get Griff and Brody’s words out of my head until I knew for sure if Ewin was gay.
The kitchen fell silent as everyone else left, their workstations dark. Except mine. Even Noah had finished up and gone home.
And I was aware of every single move Ewin made, every step he took around the small space, every rustle his jacket made as he reached for something. Anticipation crackled in the air, as real as any electrical charge. My ‘prize’ was going to be a real bitch to get through.
“You ready?” He turned and looked at me.
I might have imagined the heat in his eyes, but it was intimidating. “As I’ll ever be.” Hopefully my nervous chuckle didn’t give my feelings away.
“I’ve ordered some oysters in for us to work with, and that’s pretty much the clue right there. We’re going to prepare my twist on Cornish oysters.”
I scrunched my nose a little, but he held up his hand.
“Don’t be fooled. I know it’s a simple dish, but this is a test of technique, really, of how you manage such a simple balance of flavors without hiding mistakes behind something more complex. Simply put—” He paused and took a breath, his pupils dilating. “It will lay you bare.”
I nodded. “Okay.” But my voice came out thin and reedy as I attempted to control a sudden wave of desire.
“I’ll demonstrate what I want to see from you.” Ewin turned to the prep table, and I leaned in closer, taking in his scent.
It grew stronger as I watched him work, and I leaned closer again, watching his work less and switching my focus to Ewin, waiting to see if he reacted to my closeness.
Eventually, he glanced at me and held out a finished oyster. “Here, try this. If I want you to replicate it, you need to know how it tastes.”
But I didn’t take the oyster from him. Instead, I steadied his hand with mine, my skin tingling on contact with his, and brought the oyster closer to my mouth. My gaze on his, I wrapped my tongue around the oyster, drawing it from the shell and into my mouth.
After I chewed and swallowed, I flicked my tongue back into the shell, gathering up leftover juice. “Mmmm,” I moaned, not breaking our contact.
Ewin’s nostrils flared, and his chest heaved as his breathing picked up.
Satisfaction lodged in my chest as I had my answer. I did affect him. Ewin Storm wanted me. His scent nearly overwhelmed me, and I didn’t dare move.
He licked his lips, his tongue flicking across the sensitive skin. “Fuck it,” he growled.
Then his mouth slammed down on mine.
8
Ewin
Fuck me. August’s mouth moved beneath mine, and I darted my tongue against his lips, tasting him, willing them to part and give me full access. My cock thickened as August’s scent bloomed until the entire kitchen smelled like a woodland glade. It was enough to drive me crazy.
I was taking a risk, kissing him, but I wanted him. I needed him. Threading my fingers through August’s soft blond hair, I pressed his head closer to mine. When he gasped, I plunged my tongue into his mouth, tasting him, reveling in him. He groaned, and my cock jerked. He tasted better than I could have imagined, and I wanted so much more. I kissed him frantically, forcefully, until he whimpered and wrapped his arms around my neck.
That was all I needed to know. I pulled him closer, pressing our bodies together, and I slowed the kiss, deepening it, until our tongues tangled, and his breaths mingled with mine. My thoughts scattered as I lost myself in August. No one had affected me like this since…since… I pushed Ted from my mind. He didn’t belong in this moment.
At the renewed scent of lush greens and woodland moss, my desire surged, and I smoothed my hands down August’s back until I cupped his tight ass, kneading him through his pants. He moaned into my mouth and the sound rushed through me, sending a burst of need to the base of my cock until it pressed hungry and hard against August’s belly. I nudged against him, tiny thrusts, as my insides buzzed with frustration.
Then, when he moved in response, I moved so quickly I didn’t even think about it. I lifted him onto the prep table in front of us, pushing my cock up against his, grinding them together and seeking the friction that would make me come. Our kiss turned feverish as I ran my hands across August’s shoulders, then down to his waistband and slipped my fingers under his jacket and top. His skin heated at my touch, and I gasped.
“More…I want more,” August murmured against me as my hand slid around to cup his balls. “Please. I want you.”
Holy shit. His voice broke through my daze, and I stepped back, woozy, a chill settling in my chest. I rubbed my hand over my cheek, using the scrape of the stubble there to bring me back to the moment, and I looked at August, his lips swollen, his eyes bright. A tent had formed in his pants. A tent that had my tongue sneaking across my lips, a tent I wanted to grasp in my hand to make him moan and move against me.
I turned from him, so I didn’t have to look at him and see his feelings shining from his eyes. When that wasn’t enough to calm my racing emotions, I ran the faucet, using the sound of water to drown out August’s rapid breaths. I splashed my face with cold water and grabbed a paper towel to dry off.
What had I nearly done?
Holy hell. I clenched my fist, focusing on the strain to take my attention from my needy dick…from August’s needy dick.
“What…? Why did you stop?” August sounded as though he’d just woken from a very deep sleep. A man brought back from the brink of satisfaction, and I gritted my teeth.
I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…I…we can’t do this.” I shook my head again and skimmed my palm across the top of my head.
August’s eyes grew wide. “But I didn’t just imagine.” He stopped, his mouth still moving as if he couldn’t find the words. “I mean, I know you wanted me. You didn’t exactly hide it.”
I walked to another prep station, rested my hands flat on the table and leaned my weight on my arms, looking into the burnished, murky stainless steel reflection. I didn’t need to have a clear view to see the wild guilt in my eyes and the shame staining my cheeks. I glanced back at the prep table where August still sat and groaned.
“Hell, August. It was both unprofessional and unsanitary. Not to mention inappropriate.” I’d been seconds away from unloading my spunk on that surface, contaminating a food prep area.
I let loose a frustrated growl then pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. I’d lost my fucking control. August, anyone could have walked in on us. A cleaning person, a member of the waitstaff checking on the restaurant, a chef who’d forgotten something. And they would have seen…
He glared at me and I swallowed, at the fire blazing in his blue eyes, barely managing to continue. “They would have seen me taking advantage of you.”
“Bullshit.” August spat the word. “I started it. I came on to you. I wanted it as much as you did.”
Shame threatened to swallow me. “I am so, so sor—”
But he held up his hand, stopping me from finishing my sentence. “Don’t you dare be sorry. That is the worst thing you could be. I knew I was stupid. Trying to seduce you was a fucking stupid idea. But don’t you dare apologize and make me feel worse.” He jumped down from the prep table and landed on his feet. “You don’t get to have that power.” He stalked to the other side of the kitchen and collected his bag, then he paused one hand on the door to leave. “Forget tonight ever happened. I sure as hell will.”
The door bounced against the alley wall as he slammed through it, and I cringed at the force of his emotion and the dense, mossy scent he left in his wake. Every instinct in me urged me to run after him, to take him back in my arms and love him. But I couldn’t.
And I didn’t know how to undo the damage I’d just created. I slammed my hand on the prep table surface, leaving a smeary handprint on the wiped stainless steel. Then I cradled my smarting hand against my hip and stared into the dark kitchen until my eyes dried out and the ticking of the clock sounded like a nail gun fir
ing in my brain.
I shook myself free of my inactivity and headed for my office.
“Hey, it’s me,” I greeted Anthony when he answered the phone. “Can you guys still spare Jonas to cover for Dmitri?”
“Absolutely. When?” Anthony was a man of few words, but he always had my back.
“As soon as possible. Tomorrow. Early.”
“No problem.”
He hung up, and I pressed the receiver against my shoulder as I relived my moment with August. I’d been so close…so close to another bad situation. Which was why I needed to put some distance between us, and getting him another mentor would be the first step. I never should have attempted to teach him myself.
Yet the force of his passion and drive appealed to me like almost nothing else. I wanted to be around that, to nurture that. I glanced around. It didn’t matter what I wanted. My business needed to come first, and that was everything from staff relationships, to food quality, to not jizzing all over the workstations with a really sexy, way-too-young-for-me guy.
I pressed my palms over my eyes as if I could unsee August’s passion and muffled a shame-faced laugh. I needed a drink.
Loud music thumped from Ryker’s bar. The place was hopping. I almost jumped back in my car, turned it around, and left…but I needed something familiar. I craved the companionship of someone who knew the real me, the me who fought my way up from nothing to own an international restaurant chain. Only eight restaurants, but they still spanned different countries, so that counted.
I stepped into the crowded space, almost missing the cigarette smoke that used to hang blue and moody near the ceiling until Ryker cleaned up his act and became nearly family friendly.
I glanced around at the late-night crowd. Definitely not family friendly now, though. I pushed my way through the impromptu dance floor and the grinding and writhing bodies toward the bar, where I glimpsed Ryker on one of the stools, his head bent toward another man.
