Chef's Kiss (Curvy Mountain Inn Book 6) by Flora Madison

Author:Flora Madison [Madison, Flora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Liz

It’s New Year’s Eve, and everybody’s shuffling. The kitchen is a giant commotion, with bodies moving everywhere, dodging each other’s movements so we can get every last bit of prep and cooking done before the crowd arrives for dinner and dancing at eight o’clock. We’ve only got two more hours to finish up.

I keep sneaking glances at Cameron, whose brow is so furrowed that I can barely see his eyes. I know from experience that times like these require distance. I’m dying to put my hand on his big, broad shoulders and tell him that everything’s going to be alright, but I don’t dare. He’s barking orders, and the staff looks like they’re about to have a nervous breakdown.

I remind myself that any orders or foul words barked shouldn’t be taken personally. It makes it easier to finish up my duties, which I do. The strange thing is that I love seeing him like this, in a position of authority. The stress almost makes him sexier. I love a man in charge.

We plate the hor d’oeuvres, and the catering staff carries the large silver trays out to the ballroom, rapidly filling with guests. After the first round is passed, I make my move to approach Cameron.

“Chef?” I dry my hands on the towel draped over my shoulder.

“Yeah.” His sharp voice doesn’t faze me.

“You doing okay?”

His brow actually smoothes. “Hell yeah. Things are going well.” He rests his hand on my arm. His touch sends a wave of tingles through me. “Thanks for all of your help.”

“Well, we’re not out of the clear yet. Dinner’s about to be served.”

We plate two-hundred dishes, and the catering staff expertly carries armloads out to the fancy guests. Fish, chicken, and steak are all served on simple white plates, but the food itself makes them each look like a work of art. It’s truly something that fills me with pride, and from the look on Cameron’s face, I’m not alone in this sentiment.

By eleven-thirty, the kitchen is cleaned, and we’re all about to go our separate ways. Exhausted but exhilarated, I’m ready for my glass of champagne. I turn toward the pegs and untie my apron.

“Hey.” Cameron’s voice startles me. It never ceases to amaze me how he towers over me. Big and strong like a sturdy tree—one I’d gladly climb upon. “Are you sticking around for the countdown?”

“I wouldn’t miss it. I even brought a dress to change into.” Is it my imagination or do his eyes light up? “How about you?”

“I didn’t bring a dress.” He doesn’t bat an eye.

“Ha, ha.” I take the opportunity to gently pat his arm. I can feel his muscles under his chef’s coat. “I meant, are you sticking around?” I find myself hoping—no, praying that he does.

“Yeah. I planned on it.” He takes a small breath, and I realize I’m holding mine. “We should go together.”

Music to my ears. “That’d be nice. I’m going to run and get dressed, and I’ll meet you back here.” He nods, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

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