Page 8 of Good Taste
“So why are you working here?” I ask.
“I experimented.” Taylor paints air quotes with her fingers. “With the wrong person.” She averts her gaze.
“Didn’t end well, huh?”
“No.” She laughs and reaches around me for another piece of cheese. “It did not.” She brushes her hands against her jeans and crosses her arms over her full chest.
“I’m kind of glad it didn’t.” I say, turning away so she can’t see the lust in my eyes. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” A heavy silence hangs between us, and I regret expressing such a loaded comment. “I’d be making some sort of elaborate dish.” I grab a spatula and slide the oozing sandwiches onto paper towels. “Instead of embracing the simple joy of my favorite childhood mainstay.”
“I knew you were a grilled cheese guy.” Her lips spread in a sly smile. I grab a nearby knife and slice it into quarters. “Interesting approach.”
“It’s going to be hot.” My eyes flicker to hers. “Very hot.”
“I like it that way.” Her hungry eyes glow in the low light of the powerless kitchen. She lifts the sandwich and takes a bite, then moans with pleasure.
“You’re right.” She wipes a crumb from her bottom lip with the back of her wrist. “This is the best fucking grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever had in my life.”
I want to tell her I told her so, but I’m so turned on right now I couldn’t muster a coherent sentence if I tried.
Chapter Seven
Taylor
I don’t care anymore.Not about keeping this job. Not about making my rent. Right now, all I want is Chef Nick. And I’m not lying about how good this sandwich is. “What about you?” I wipe my mouth with a cloth napkin. The dining room darkening as the day progresses.
“What about me?” Nick’s strong jaw flexes when he eats.
“What got you into this life?” I throw my arms wide. He smiles and pushes his plate to the side.
“Honestly? I was always more comfortable in the kitchen than anywhere else. My brothers—I have three, all older—were always these outdoorsy, strong extroverted types. My dad took them all under his wing. He owns a lumber business which later morphed into a supply business for most of the cabins you see around the lake.”
“Seriously?” I perk up. “Those are so beautiful. I’ve always dreamed of owning one.”
“Yeah, my family supplies the wood, and one of my brother’s company builds them.” Nick raises one brow. Clearly, this conversation strikes a nerve. I’ve never noticed until now that his nose is slightly crooked, which only enhances his insane good looks.
“So, the family business wasn’t in the cards for you, huh?”
“Nah.” He lets out a long exhale, causing his massive chest to rise and fall. “I guess you could say I was sort of a mama’s boy.”
“Aw.” I coo. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Well, mama kept me close in the kitchen. Fattening me up in the process.” My eyes widen at the thought.
“You don’t look very fat to me.”
“Not now.” His giant hands fuss with the edge of his napkin. “But I definitely was, and trust me. The bullying eventually had me splitting my time between the kitchen and the gym.”
“I can see that.” I take in his strong physique, unable to believe he was anything but action movie star hot. There’s probably a six-pack hiding below that t-shirt, the perfect accompaniment to his tapered waist. “So your mom taught you to cook?”
“Yeah. I’m the baby of the family and she was more than happy to have me around, tugging on her apron. She had me cracking eggs by the time I could kneel on a chair and reach the counter.”
“Wow.”
“What about you?”
“Yeah, I can’t cook. Not really.”
“You were pretty straightforward about your grilled cheese.” He teases, a half smile playing on his kissable lips.
