Blaze (Heat #3)(8)

"They're doing it in there right now?" I place the rest of my sandwich on one of the paper napkins I brought with me, my appetite suddenly taking flight.

Her mouth twitches as she tries to stop a smile. "It happens a lot. I hope when I get married one day that my husband is as hot for me as Gabriel is for Isla."

***

I peer into the windows of new Nova. I decided to stop here after leaving Sophia's office. We chatted briefly about my new job before the call she was waiting on came through. While she talked about suppliers and the size of an order of shirts, I gathered up the trash, threw it away and shoved the two reusable plastic cups into my bag. I left her with a kiss on her forehead before I started the walk here.

"Do you work today?"

The voice is girlish and high. I'd know it anywhere.

"Maribel," I say as I look to my right to where she's standing, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black tank top emblazoned with Nova's logo above her breast. There was some chatter weeks ago about having shirts designed for the staff to wear when they were off duty. Obviously someone took that idea and ran with it. "How are you?"

"Good." She tucks the cigarette package in her hand into the back pocket of her jeans. "I'm waiting on a delivery. My signature actually counts now."

It's one of the perks of being a senior chef or maybe it's one of the drawbacks. Signing for an order means you approve it. I know that from my time at Axel when Brendon accepted an order of seafood without checking it out. The product was spoiled and Hunter wasn't happy. Brendon pouted about it for days after; telling me it was the fault of the front of the house manager because she'd distracted him with a discussion about the menu for a wedding party that had booked the private room.

It was typical Brendon behavior to blame someone else for his f*ck up.

"Is Tyler around?" I look back into the restaurant. It's transformed in just the past few days. Dark wooden tables are now in place, each positioned on an angle to the next. It's not only aesthetically pleasing but it's practical. The servers can maneuver around the guests in a uniform way and more diners can be seated during service.

"He's in the middle of a call," she says brightly. "He asked me to take care of things while he's doing that. We're busy little bees today. Is there anything I can do for you?"

The question makes me uneasy. It shouldn't. She's likely just trying to be helpful but it reminds me that if I was still a Nova employee that she ranks higher than I do. "I need to talk to Tyler. I'll catch him later."

"You've already caught him." He steps through the open doorway toward me. "I'm all yours, Cadence. Everything else can wait."





CHAPTER 9


"This is a step up from your other office." I glance around the spacious room. It's at least three times the size of the office that was at the back of the old restaurant. The walls in this space are painted light blue and the desk is modern, crafted from what looks like reclaimed wood.

"I liked that office." He scratches the top of his head. "I f*cked you raw in there."

A shiver runs through me. "Jesus, Tyler. Don't. People will hear you."

"That's exactly what you said when I was f*cking you there." A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I think about that day constantly."

I think about it too. It was spontaneous, the moments leading up to it intense. We'd clawed at each other's clothing with desperation. I'd almost come as soon as he plunged his cock into me. I'd never been taken that completely or brazenly before. I ached when it was over and I still do now when I think about it.

"I don't want to talk about sex." I glance at the door frame. "There's no door for us to close."

"What if there was?" He steps closer. "Would you let me kiss you to thank you for the gift you gave me earlier?"

My eyes fall to his lips, to those beautiful soft lips that have brought me pleasure. They're the same lips that shot out those horrible words last night. His mouth is my ally and my adversary.

"We're not going to kiss." I look over his shoulder at a single piece of paper attached to the wall with a green headed pin. "What's that?"

He doesn't turn his head, his eyes stay trained on my face. "My niece drew me a picture of the new restaurant. I'm going to have it framed so I can hang it next to the gift you gave me."

"You're going to hang the picture collage in here?" My gaze catches on the frame that I gave him. It's leaning against a row of metal filing cabinets.

"I'm taking that home. It belongs at my place."

"Not here?"

Confusion knits his brow. "It's too personal of a gift to keep here. I don't want anyone to touch it. You gave it to me, not to the restaurant."

I smile at the distinction. "I did give it to you."

"I want something else for my birthday." His voice lowers.

"Don't be greedy," I counter. "I'm not even sure you deserve the gift I gave to you."

"I don't." He studies my face, his eyes narrowing. "That's why I want another gift."

"You just said you were taking that gift home." I scowl. "Now you're saying you want to exchange it for something else? That's not how my gifts work, Tyler. "