Savor You (Fusion #5)(9)

He brought me coffee, and he remembered the way I order it from Starbucks. How could he possibly remember that? He can’t be nice to me. I won’t survive this if he’s nice. He’ll bring me coffee, and maybe flirt with me a little, and then he’ll leave after the taping, and I’ll be sad. It’s just stupid.

“Get a grip,” I mutter to myself and set the heavy pan of roast beef in the oven to slow roast for the lunch crowd.

I walk out to the dining room, but it’s empty. Of course, now I’m ready for him, and he’s nowhere to be found. “Camden?” Maybe my morning bitch-show scared him off for good. It’s probably for the best.

I march back into the kitchen and begin chopping vegetables for salad. It’s usually the sous chef’s job, but I’m here now, so I might as well work.

Unfortunately, with no sleep and only one cup of coffee in me, I’m not as focused as I should be, so I work slower, sure to not cut myself. I’ve worked many a night with a cut hand, and it sucks balls, so I avoid it at all costs.

With the veggies chopped, I turn to fetch the ingredients for the house-made dressings, and suddenly another cup of Starbucks is under my nose.

Thank God for Addie.

“Oh, I love you,” I murmur and take the cup, then a long sip.

“I had no idea that Starbucks was all it would take to hear those words from you.”

I spin and stare in horror at Camden.

“I thought you left.”

“Clearly we both needed more coffee before we tried to kill each other.”

I narrow my eyes and take another sip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a fucking delight in the morning.”

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest, leans against the countertop and smiles at me. “You’re certainly beautiful in the morning.”

I blink slowly. “Yes, looking homeless is all the rage these days.”

His eyes do that damn smolder thing they do when he’s thinking sexy thoughts. “You don’t look homeless. You look rumpled.”

“Stop.” I point my finger at him. “It’s too early for your smolder.”

“My what?”

“You know what. And it’s too early for it. We need to get to work.”

“Are you going to always be this bossy?”

“Yep.” I smile brilliantly and grab a notebook. “Let’s go sit at a table.”

We grab our coffees and settle into a booth. I’m across from him now, with a table between us, but he’s still got that smolder on his face. I ignore it, and do my best to remain professional.

“Have you given any thought to dishes you’d like to do?” I concentrate on the paper, writing Mia on one side and Camden on the other, then draw a nice, thick line between the two names.

“You always liked lists.”

“Lists are an imperative part of life. Without lists, you’d forget everything you have to do, and we can’t have that.”

“No, we can’t have that. Stop biting your lip.”

I glance up in surprise. “I wasn’t.”

“You were.” He shifts in his seat and rubs his fingertips over his forehead. “Let’s hear your ideas first.”

“Okay.” I set the pen down and rub my hands together. “I’d like to do one fish dish. Maybe salmon. I think fish is something that a lot of people are intimidated by because it’s delicate and it’s easy to screw it up, but we can show them easier ways to make a delicious piece of fish.”

“I like that,” he says with a nod, so I write fish under my name on the list.

“Now your turn.”

“Cajun chicken alfredo,” he says immediately.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.”

“It is,” he agrees with a nod. “I learned it from this old guy just outside of Baton Rouge. It’s fantastic.”

“On the list,” I murmur and write Cajun alfredo Goodness under Camden’s name. “I think it would be fun to do a quirky appetizer. Like a—”

“I have an amazing stuffed mushroom recipe with chorizo that’s pretty amazing.”

“I have one, too, but I use an Italian sausage. We could both do them, with our different recipes, and viewers can make the one that looks best to them.”

“I like it,” he says with a nod. “And we can try each other’s on camera too and give feedback.”

“That’s a good idea. As a viewer, I love it when chefs do that. It makes me want to make the recipe even more.”

“I agree.”

“Who’s going to judge the dishes?” I ask. “I don’t think Trevor mentioned that.”

“No, he didn’t. I’m not sure.”

“This is fun.” I do a little shimmy in my seat and write stuffed mushrooms under both of our names. “Let’s do two more.”

“I think it would be fun to use a grill. We could do a BBQ dish, or even something as simple as burgers, with our own twist to them.”

“Have you tried the burgers with the cheese inside of them?”

He blinks for a second, gathering his thoughts. “Yes.”

“It should be illegal,” I reply. “I like the grill idea. Let’s add it.”