Savor You (Fusion #5)(49)

“That seems harsh,” Camden says.

“Well, I put the toilet paper on the roll backwards, and she threatened my manhood over that, and this would be much worse.”

“Maybe I should send her a pie just for her.”

“Not a bad idea,” Landon says.





Chapter Fourteen





Camden


“Hey Camden,” Addie says in greeting when I walk through the front door of Seduction two weeks later.

“Hi. Is Mia in the kitchen?”

“She is.” She bites her lip and looks back toward Mia’s domain. “You may not want to go back there.”

“Why? Is she okay?”

“Oh, she’s fine.” Addie nods, but her face has uncertainty written all over it. “But she’s in a mood.”

“I brought coffee,” I reply confidently, and saunter through the dining room to the kitchen. I open the door and stop dead, taking in the scene before me.

There are two sous chefs on staff today, and they’re both scurrying around as if they’ve just had a fire lit under them.

Mia is nowhere to be seen.

“Excuse me.”

No one looks up from their task, and Mia hurries out of the walk-in freezer.

“Hi,” I say and walk over to her. I hold the coffee out, suddenly very unsure of myself.

“Hello yourself,” she says.

“I brought coffee.”

“Thank you.” She offers me a quick smile then gestures to the countertop beside her. “You can set it down.”

She hurries away again, but before I can turn around, she’s back.

“Do you need something, Camden?” she asks. She’s clearly busy, and maybe a bit pissed off, so I do what I know to do with Mia.

I wrap my arms around her from behind and hug her. She stiffens. “I’m at work.”

“So you are.”

“Seriously, Camden.” She wiggles away and turns to face me now, no humor anywhere on her face. “What’s up?”

“I was just thinking about you, so I thought I’d stop in and bring you something. See if I can help out.”

“I don’t need any help today,” she says and turns away. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“It’s gonna get cold if you don’t drink it.”

She stops what she’s doing, sighs, picks up the cup, and takes a sip.

“Yum. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” I smile brightly, but she doesn’t return it. “What’s going on, Mia?”

“I’m just trying to catch up here. These two yayhoos were supposed to come in early today to prep for later, and neither of them remembered.” She says remembered with finger quotation marks. “So here we are, busting ass to be ready on time.”

“I told you, I can help.”

“I don’t need your help. I need the people I pay good money to to show up on fucking time.” She glares at the others. Neither is brave enough to look up. “So, thanks for the coffee, but I don’t have time to stand here and entertain you.”

“Must be about to start her period,” I mumble and turn away. I don’t reach the door before I hear one of the sous chefs say, “Dumbass.”

“What did you just say?” Mia demands. I turn around to find her standing with her hands fisted on her hips and her blue eyes shooting fire.

She’s gorgeous when she’s pissed off.

“I was just making an observation,” I reply. “You weren’t this moody this morning, which was literally two hours ago. And now I can’t seem to do anything right.”

“God grant me the strength to not beat the shit out of the people around me today,” she says as she scrubs her hands over her face. “You know what, Camden, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t even deal with you right now. Or later.”

“I can meet you at your place—”

“Tomorrow,” she repeats, eyes narrowed.

“Fine.”

I turn and march out of the kitchen, but rather than leave, I walk into the bar. Kat’s behind it, rotating liquor bottles.

“Hey Camden, what can I do for you?” she asks with a smile. I don’t know Kat well, but from what I’ve seen of her, I like her. She has a style all of her own, with her flaming red hair and interesting outfits. Today she’s in a red shirt with white polka dots. It’s tied at her waist, and she’s wearing short denim shorts.

It works for her.

“Hi, Kat.” I sit on a stool and sigh. “I need a drink.”

“It’s not even noon yet.”

“And yet, here I am. Don’t make me beg.”

She smirks. “What’s your poison?”

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Wow.” She pulls a glass down and pours two fingers of whiskey in it, then slides it over.

I swallow it, then pass it back for more.

This time, when she hands it back to me, I sip it.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re drinking straight whiskey this early in the day?”

“Maybe I just like to drink a lot.”

“Do you like to drink a lot?”

“No.”