“Yeah,” she says, a guilty smile creeping across her face. “Don’t worry. I totally left my friend there – he’s probably really mad too. Then again, I’m sure he’s happy to have had the chance to flirt with Cody alone.”
The idea of another man flirting with Cody is enough to make me laugh again, and for a moment we chuckle together. Then I climb to my feet and brush my hands off on my pants.
“God, I’m sore,” Pepper says. She lifts her shirt up to the side and glances down at her pink back. “Ugh. You didn’t have to drag me over the carpet like that. This rug burn really stings.”
I know I should apologize, but the image of Pepper’s rug-burned skin is enough to fill my head with memories of last night. My cock twitches in my pants as I think about what it was like to fuck the beautiful woman. I had no idea she’d be such a hot lover. I’ve never had sex that rough before, and judging from Pepper’s expression, I have a feeling it’s mutual.
“Sorry,” I say. “It looks cute, though. I’d be happy to rub some fresh aloe vera on it. I keep a plant in the house for burns. You know what it’s like being a chef. Cuts, burns, they’re part of the hazards of the job.”
She blinks, and for a second, I think she’s going to take me up on my offer and stay the morning accepting my ministrations, which will surely lead to more. I’m disappointed.
“I really should get going,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m going to be late, and I left the restaurant up to some of my newer staff last night. Another hazard of the job.”
I can’t suppress a chuckle. All it takes is one mental image of Claude in charge of a busy dinner service, and I about lose it.
Pepper gives me an odd look. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.
She narrows her eyes. “What? Are you laughing at me because you want Sakana to fail?”
That sobered me quickly enough. “What? No! Not at all. I was laughing…” I trail off, realizing my original reason sells my talented colleague down the river in a leaky canoe.
Pepper looks angry now. She’s sensitive around me, and I realize it’s going to take a long time and being on my all-time best behavior to get her to trust me. Open mouth; insert foot.
“Tell me,” she says sharply, crossing her arms over her narrow chest. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s not funny, really,” I say, trying to backpedal. “Just that I was going to make a joke about one of your customers getting sick from bad fish.” I wave my finger under my nose. “I mean, have you ever smelled bad fish?” I’m aware that I’m rambling like an idiot but unaware of how to make myself stop.
“That’s not funny at all,” Pepper crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s basically the same as wanting something bad to happen to me.”
“I don’t,” I say, meaning it. While I don’t want her to usurp me, I don’t even come close to wanting her to fail in any way. “Really, Pepper.”
She bites her full lower lip. The air is thick with tension now…and not the good kind of tension, either.
“Look…” I hold up a hand. “I’m sorry, it was a stupid joke. Why not get breakfast with me? We can go out before going to work?”
Pepper sighs but softens and relents. I exhale a huge sigh of relief. I’m going to live to see another day. “Where did you have in mind?”
I wrack my brain. “I don’t know. What about Smoke and Barrel?”
Pepper seems determined to disagree with every single thing I say. “They don’t have any dishes without meat,” she says, negating my selection. “What about Seafood Basket? They do a great crab imperial Eggs Benedict.”
I mime vomiting. “That sounds disgusting. And I’m not going anywhere that won’t give me meat.”
Pepper rolls her eyes. “Seriously, Carter? I don’t know why I thought you were better than that. How can you only eat meat? Don’t you know how bad it is for the environment? Your arteries?”
“Fuck the environment.” I burst out laughing at her dogged determination to reform the unreformable. “Besides, I do enough already. I have energy efficient light bulbs, and I fucking recycle every week.”
Pepper’s jaw drops. “I can’t believe you,” she mutters. “You’re missing the point.”
“No, you’re missing the point,” I shoot back. With four brothers, getting defensive is a habit and a rite of passage. Nothing’s going to stop me now. Apparently, loafers are on the menu for breakfast today. “How can you only eat fish?”
In response, Pepper grabs her purse and pushes past me, carrying her heels in one hand.
“Wait, where are you going?” I ask, throwing my hands up in the air as if I’m innocent when I’m guilty as sin. “What the fuck did I do?”
But I know full well what the fuck I did. Now, I just want to whine about it.
Pepper stares at me for a long moment as I hold my breath. “If you have to ask me that, I don’t know what to tell you,” she spits. She huffs up a storm of rapid inhales, then stomps out of my condo and slams the door behind her.
I roll my eyes. Women. Always gotta ply a man with the dramatics. Can’t even take a joke.
Chapter Thirteen
Pepper
By the time I get home, I shake with anger. Thinking back, I wish I would have slapped his impertinent face. After everything we shared, I can’t believe he dissed my values, beliefs, and restaurant yet again. Where are Carter Caldwell’s priorities? He ruined an intimate night by picking a stupid argument with me the moment he pried his eyelids open. I always thought “morning afters” were for cuddling and breakfast. Getting closer, not wedging farther apart. For sure not insulting each other’s personal preferences.
Then again, I guess this shows what I know about men – which, admittedly, isn’t much. Sakana’s been my priority for so damn long, my vagina had gone into hibernation. Until last night. I calm down, allowing myself one spine-tingling memory of Carter’s hands on my fevered body.
But only one.
With anything positive firmly in the past, I knit my anger together again and wear it like a righteous cloak. Stumbling into the kitchen, I pour myself a mimosa, then go about whipping together a satisfying breakfast – poached eggs with some lump crab and steamed asparagus on the side. This is a perfectly satisfying meal. I take the first bite, chewing and allowing the tapestry of flavors to explode across my tongue. Yummy. After every bite is consumed, I scrunch up my face and load the dishwasher. Somehow, my delicious breakfast just makes me think of Carter again…and how he’d sneer in my face if he saw me sucking down lump crab instead of bacon or steak.
I know I need a distraction. Out of sight, out of mind.
That’s when I see the large manila envelope on the counter. Throwing the last drink of my mimosa down my throat, I wipe my hands on my denim-clad thighs and pick it up, slicing through the clear packing tape with my short thumbnail.
It’s a packet of information from the Food Network. It must’ve come yesterday – I’ve been watching the mail like a hawk – and seeing my name in huge font underneath that logo is enough to make my heart start to thud in my chest. I can’t believe it is on repeat in my head as I flip through the paperwork. I’m hoping for some information on what I’ll be expected to do – after all, I have no idea what kind of show they’re thinking of – but there’s not much to be found.
With a frown, I carry the papers over to the couch and flop down with one leg folded underneath me. Suddenly, my mind fills with ideas – should I try a bunch of new recipes, or should I stick to my old tried and true favorites? Licking my lips, I reach forward and grab a notepad and pen from the coffee table.
Ideas:
Tuna tartare tower
Lump crab ravioli with cream sauce
Stuffed shells with lobster and bay scallops
Frowning, I look down at the page. I know I must wow whoever is filming me – not to mention the audience – and somehow, none of this stuff seems good enough. It just doesn’t showcase my creativity, whic
h is what launched my culinary career. I wonder if I should go all out, maybe try something crazy like a bunch of fancy sushi rolls…or maybe I should stick to the classics, like bouillabaisse. Is French food still in? What about fusion?
Why don’t I know these things? After all, I am head chef at Sakana! It’s because I’m a workaholic that doesn’t get out much. I certainly never watch TV. But I’m starting to wonder if maybe Carter’s right. Not about the meat, of course, I’d die before letting animal flesh pass my lips.
Maybe you’re not all you’re cracked up to be, Raelynn.
But maybe I’m not being open-minded enough when it comes to planning what will need to be my most sensational meal yet. And what if I’m on one of those weird, gimmicky shows with limited ingredients like Chopped? What if they drive me out to the middle of the desert and have me cook for a bunch of strangers, like I’m at Burning Man or something crazy? What if they take me to a jungle and have me cook for some native tribe – without even knowing their dietary restrictions?
Yikes. I inhale and feel like I might need to breathe into a bag.
But I’m getting ahead of myself and letting my perfectionist tendencies run amok, pushing me up into my own head and jailing me there.
Gnawing on my lip, I reach for my phone and dial Basil. He doesn’t answer until the third ring, and when he does, he sounds both annoyed and exhausted.
“Nice to see you’ve remembered me,” Basil says. I can barely make out his words since he yawns straight into the phone’s speaker.
I worry the fabric of my sleeve. I’m a first-class asshole and very unbestielike BFF. “Um, about last night–”
“Famous last words. Don’t worry about it,” Basil says with a laugh. “I managed to have a good time all by myself. Amazing who you can meet at a rodeo.”
Thinking about last night reminds me of Carter again, and I lean against the back of the couch and groan. What the heck am I supposed to do when he pops into my mind at the slightest provocation? I sweep him away, but he comes back, just like those damn dust bunnies that escape underneath your fridge.
“Hello, Pepper? Are you there?”
“Uh, yeah.” I shake my head to refocus. “Look, can you come over? I want to talk to you about some stuff.”
Basil snickers. “I bet you do. How big was it? How many times did you come? Give me twenty, and I’ll be there. And I’m starving. Can you make something for me?”
I ignore his questions that just bring me back to a place I no longer want to be. Focusing on the food, I sigh. At least someone appreciates my pescatarian tastes.
“Sure. I’ll be here.”
It’s only when we hang up that I realize I still haven’t showered. I’ve got Carter’s germs – his sexy man-scent – all over me, and I blush, wondering if Basil will be able to smell it on me. As quickly as I can, I take a shower, standing under the hot spray until all thoughts of Carter have turned to mush. I’m still towel-drying my hair when I hear the door open and close.
“Hello?” Basil yells. “You’re not in the foyer to greet me. Did you forget about me again?”
Blotting at my fevered skin, I dart into the living room and greet Basil with a quick hug.
I give him an ‘I’m sorry’ face. “Hey. There’s some lump crab and eggs – does that sound good?”
“Oh, yummy.” Basil rubs his hands together. “I knew I was in for a cheat meal when you called.”
Basil sits at the bar, idly flipping through my bundle of paperwork from the Food Network while I make him an omelet with lump crab, a pinch of homemade aioli, and some green onions.
“So,” Basil says, leaning on the counter. “You haven’t answered my burning questions about last night?”
I’m glad I’m still facing the stove, so he can’t see the huge red circles on my cheeks. And not from the gas stove.
“Really?” Whirling around, I don’t meet Basil’s eyes as I put the plate in front of him and hand him some flatware. “I talked to Cody, you know, it actually went pretty well. I guess I should be happy for him.”
Basil snorts and slams his fork down. “Girlfriend, that is not the reason why you abandoned me.” I finally force myself to meet his gaze, and when I do, I see that his handsome face is twisted into a cocky smirk.
I swallow hard. “Okay.” I hold up my hands, surrendering. “Maybe not.”
“I knew it. I just had to see your face to know the truth.” He raises an eyebrow and grins. “You finally got laid. Just for your reference, I expect you to be a lot less crabby from now on.”
“It’s not like it was my first time,” I say, offended that Basil would even imply such a thing.
“It may as well have been,” Basil replies, arching one brow. “What has it been, since college?”
I roll my eyes, feeling quite indignant. “No, of course not. It hasn’t been that long.”
Basil shakes his head and laughs at my expense. I fist my fingers to keep from putting him in the half-nelson.
“Hey,” I snap. “It’s not my fault, I’m just not that interested in men most of the time. I hardly leave Sakana. The only man I see on a regular basis who’s not you is Dante. And there isn’t enough Lysol in the world to clean that shit up enough so I’d go there.”
Basil breaks out in a rumbling laugh. “No doubt. I can’t even imagine who fucks him without putting a bag over his head. Probably has to pay for it.”
“You think Dante Giovanetti has to hire hookers?” I hiss in a breath. “No way.”
“Maybe not the paid professional type but gold diggers for sure. And I have no respect for women who have to support themselves on their knees. Gold digging is just as bad as being a hooker in my book.”
“I don’t have much respect for gold diggers either,” I say, biting my lip and glaring. “And don’t make me regret giving you the last of my lump crab. That stuff is so expensive right now.”
“Ah, yes, Pepper’s true passion comes out.” Basil flicks his wrist in my direction instead of his plate. When I glare at him, he softens and holds his hands up in the air in a sign of defeat. “Look, I’m just teasing, Pep. You know that!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. I’m not really angry with Basil, but sometimes it’s fun to pretend just to get him going.
“I’m just happy for you,” Basil says. “Now, dish.” He puts his elbows on the counter, rests his chin on his locked hands, and flutters his eyelashes at me. “I want to know all about it. All the gory details, post haste.”
“It was…good.” I glance down, choosing my adjectives with care. “He’s really…hot. And sexy. And charming. And nice…at least, when he wants to be,” I add, unable to stop myself. A lump appears in my throat, and I swallow it down. Just thinking about Carter again makes my heart thud in my chest. Why does the only man that turns my crank have to be a complete asshat?
“When he wants to be?” Basil questions, rearing back. “What is this guy, some kind of supervillain? He sounds a little too Jekyll and Hyde for my taste.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and keeping my chin high in the air. “Just…you know. Someone from around here. No Marvel supervillain status at all.”
“Oh, god.” He gives me a dirty, knowing look. “It’s that guy, isn’t it? The one you made out with at the charity event?”
I groan and slap my hand against my forehead, covering my eyes. After he doesn’t speak for several seconds, I peek between my fingers to find him glaring at me.
“I knew it!” Basil cries. “I can’t believe you – Little Miss Horndog! I have to give it to you, though, he is one tall drink of water.” Basil whistles and licks his lips. “I’d climb that like a tree if his door swung my way.”
“I think I can safely say he’s one hundred percent straight,” I say, pursing my lips and blowing out a stream of frustrated air at the ceiling. “And it wasn’t all peaches and cream, either.”
“Oh?” Basil frowns. “What happened?”
My mind races as I search for the words t
o articulate what I’m feeling. As close as Basil and I are, I’m not used to dishing about men to him…especially not men like Carter Caldwell. It’s usually Basil who’s in the role of telling me what slutty adventures are going on in his life. And somehow, the role reversal makes me feel like there’s a huge, bright spotlight shining down on me. The attention feels weird, but not bad. Just not exactly what I like. I prefer being tucked away in the kitchen, working my magic on a bunch of ahi.
“Well, it was good,” I say.
Basil groans and flips his head to the side. “You have to give me more than what you’ve already said,” he whines. “Come on, Pepper, you’ve never talked about your sex life with me. For the first couple of years I knew you, I totally thought you were a prude. I wondered if maybe you hicks from Kansas were asexual.”
“I am most certainly not a prude,” I say, wounded. My mind drifts back to Carter’s head between my legs, licking me like a chocolate mousse. “It’s like I said. I don’t have time to date, and most of the men around here are preening peacocks. Too much Liberace and not enough Dean Martin. I don’t exactly fancy the idea of hooking up with some grease ball who just came out of a casino, throwing his benjamins around while pinching every server’s ass within three feet of him.”
“We’ve been in Vegas for too long,” Basil says. “Because god help me, I’m actually starting to think those polyester-clad high rollers are kind of cute. Maybe you should serve whale at Sakana.”
I giggle. Basil gives me a superior look, and I stop on an awkward hiccup.
“So, what makes this guy different?” Basil asks. “Come on – there has to be something there that turned prudish Pepper’s head. You did let him plow your field, so to speak.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, shaking my head. “Thank the heavens I still wax, lest the tiller get stuck in the hay.” As Basil laughs, I take a deep breath and think for a moment. “I don’t know. He seemed…normal, for once. You know – almost human. There’s this crazy physical connection between us that I can’t explain. All I know is that I’ve never felt it before.”
Pony Up (Caldwell Brothers Book 4) Page 11
