Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Her feet wanted to run away. But she’d run away on Friday after that dinner at his restaurant. She was better than that. Tougher than that. She had to stand her ground.
Changing tack, she ignored his question, ignored his love letter, ignored her roiling emotions. Instead, she complimented him. “You did a fabulous job. Everything was scrumptious. And the drinks.” She held up the nearly empty martini glass. “They’re divine. The way you stepped in to help Gideon and Rosie, that was above and beyond. Thank you. But I also want to thank myself, because I was the one who asked you.”
Her sudden change had him stepping back. Then she added the coup de grâce, the statement that would show him she wasn’t flustered at all. “Tell me what I can do to help you now.”
* * *
The woman left him dumbfounded. First, because she didn’t run. Second, because this sudden change felt like a step forward in their new relationship. In the past few days, whenever it felt like they were getting close, she’d run. But this time she didn’t. Instead, she’d offered to help.
Could he trust the change?
At least she’d noticed that everything he’d prepared today had been just for her. Right down to the espresso martini in her hand.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’m pretty much done with dinner now. Honorine did most of it.” But he wasn’t about to let Ava go. How the hell could she help?
Of course. The cake.
“Gabby and Fernsby are making the final touches on the cake. My servers will take care of handing it out. But I need to get all the plates and cutlery out there. Can you help me?”
He had people to do it, but now that she’d offered, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass, even if it was make-work.
“I’d be happy to,” she said with a smile. God, how he’d longed to see her smile for him alone all day long.
She drained the last of her martini like a statement, either a thank you or a screw you, then handed him the glass. “All right, I’m ready.”
He was so damn ready. He just wasn’t sure they were ready for the same thing.
Guiding her back to the kitchen, he set the empty glass on the counter and turned to his two master bakers. “Ava and I will take out the dessert plates and cutlery. Are you almost ready?”
Gabby didn’t even turn. “Almost.” She’d been fretting over the cake the entire afternoon. Perhaps it was the collaboration with Fernsby. Or because this was for Rosie and Gideon.
Fernsby simply raised an eyebrow that could mean anything. “That’s good of you, sir. Miss Harrington is the perfect helpmate.” Was that a gleam in the man’s eye? “At least under these circumstances.”
As they piled plates and cutlery on a trolley, Ava whispered to him, “What was that supposed to mean?”
He shook his head. “It’s just Fernsby. If you look up the word enigmatic in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of him.”
Then he let Fernsby drift right out of his mind and concentrated only on Ava. As they worked, he thought of all the times they’d stood side by side in his kitchen. She did all the things that needed a careful touch, cutting precisely, chopping exactly. She was his sous-chef. And so much more.
Together, they rolled the trolley out onto the deck and down the ramp the Mavericks had laid out to make serving easier.
“Stop looking at me that way,” she said so softly no one could overhear.
He raised an eyebrow just like Fernsby. “What way?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what way.”
Oh yes, he knew. He looked at her with such longing that he felt his breath stop in his chest. It was impossible not to.
* * *
Fernsby watched with beady eyes as two beefy servers rolled out the four-tiered cake. Because of course the baker didn’t carry his own creation. He walked behind, so that everyone could congratulate him on the magnificence of the masterpiece.
Once they were out the door, he allowed Gabrielle to walk beside him, since she was half creator of their objet d’art.
He dipped his head to hide his smile. Half creator. That would put Miss Gabrielle Harrington in her place. But he gave kudos where kudos were deserved. In fact, he’d grown to admire her over the years.
And the cake was splendid, with minute decorations piped in icing. No simple rosettes for Gabrielle. Icing dots banded the bottom of each tier like a double-stranded pearl necklace. She’d piped a delicate design of leaves, flowers, and baby’s breath all around the sides and tops. She ended with tiny silver sugar balls in and around the piped design. Once the cake topper had been placed, she piped delicate cream flowers around it, securing its base to the top tier.