Page 22 of When I Come Back
No. No. No.This isnothappening.
“What are you doing here? I can’t deal with whatever it is you need or want today.” I don’t even try to hide my annoyance at seeing his stupid, beautiful face standing in front of me with the sun reflecting off his sapphire eyes the same way it reflects off the lake. His hair is down, and it somehow accentuates his chiseled jaw covered in the perfect amount of scruff.
He looks around RED, all the servers are scurrying around, placing the final table settings and making sure everything is set up in time. “I came to help.”
My eyes go wide. “You’re here to help?” My tone sounds snarky and disbelieving.
He shakes his head then adds, “I was told you’re down a chef and could maybe use another set of hands.”
Brooks. He must have called Cary. I can’t decide if I’m grateful or pissed off, and I don’t have time to think about it. I also don’t have time to question him or wonder what him showing up means. For RED. For us.
Not that there is an ‘us.’
“Wonder who told you that. I’m not in a position to say no, but just know, I could have handled it... I’ll have Josh walk you through the menu.” I start to turn toward the kitchen, but his voice stops me.
“No need. I saw it yesterday, I just need to know where everything is located.”
I want to dwell on what he’s saying. I want to think it over and decipher it. Maybe even pick his brain about why he’d care enough to be here, let alone do this for me. Then I remember he owns RED. Of course he doesn’t want to see it fail. Of course he’s coming to rescuehisrestaurant. There’s no hidden reason or bigger meaning behind it, and I’d be stupid to look for one.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I get my emotions under control. “Right, of course. Josh is in the kitchen, he can show you where everything is.”
He nods and walks away. He pushes the door to the kitchen open and disappears inside. Once the door swings shut, I see him through the small window, pulling an apron off a rack and making quick work of tying it around his waist, his movements confident. He pops the buttons on his sleeves and rolls them up to the elbows, exposing sinewy muscles and tattoos. Josh looks ecstatic that help has arrived and starts talking animatedly to him. His nervousness disappearing.
Then—as if in slow motion—Carrington pulls his long hair into a bun at the back of his neck, the muscles in his forearms making my heart race and my core ache.
Fuck.
Before I can make myself look away, he glances up and catches me staring through the window. He smirks and winks at me right before he turns around and jumps in like he belongs in that kitchen. And despite everything, I can’t help but think that he looks like he belongs too.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Chapter Eleven
Carrington
Iwas already pulling on my shoes to head over to RED when I got the call from Brooks. I was going to find a way to be useful, and now hearing they are so short-handed, I’m hoping Thea won’t fight me too hard on being there at least. Seeing how important tonight is for her, I want to do everything I can to help it go off without a hitch.
I park on the far side of the lot next to the distillery, leaving all the front spots open for tonight’s guests. Entering through the back, I find Brooks unloading boxes of bourbon and fresh kegs from the storage area to get them ready to go out to the restaurant. It’s then that I notice his face, his cheek split and swollen. He pauses his movements and hangs his head with a sigh.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” he says and begins to heave boxes again.
“You’re notfine.You’re bleeding.”
“Save it, okay? Thea already ripped me a new one and exiled me here for the night. I don’t need to hear it from you too. Pretty sure I heard her calling a nurse friend to come patch me up.” My chest warms at the thought that despite being pissed off and over-stressed, she still cares enough about my brother to make sure he’s okay.
“What happened?” I ask, my tone gentler than a moment ago.
“I fucked up.” He pauses again and looks me in the eye with the most contrite expression. “She was counting on me today, and I just…” he trails off. “I needed to blow off some steam, but it got out of control. I don’t know why I keep doing this. I feel like I just keep. Fucking. Up,” he punctuates the last few words.
I step closer to him and am about to pull him into a hug when the back door swings open and in walks Thea’s mom’s nurse. I recognize her from the funeral—she’s hard to forget with her wild, curly chocolate-brown hair and startling light green eyes. Her eyes land on Brooks, and the sympathy shining from them is instant.
We exchange quick hellos, and I leave her to her work and head over to the restaurant to find Thea.
As soon as I spot her, I note the worry lines on her forehead and the annoyance that flits over her face when she sees me. Her face flushes slightly, but she schools her features right before she proceeds to chew me out for coming to her rescue. I pretend I don’t see the way her eyes linger on my face before she shoos me into the kitchen, or how she watches me tie up my hair. She always said she wanted to see me with long hair one day. I can’t help winking at her when I catch her in the doorway—seeing how easily I can still fluster her helps calm some of the nerves I feel stepping into a foreign kitchen.
The kitchen staff at RED is great. Everyone is professional and well-trained. I’m truly impressed by their skills and abilityto adapt to how I run a kitchen. Each head chef has their own style, but with their help, I find my footing quickly. And thank fuck because, although Travis built a great menu, he grossly underestimated how much extra of everything you need when serving such a large crowd.
Early in the night, I notice the hor d'oeuvres are leaving the kitchen faster than we can plate them. When I ask one of the servers about it, she tells me Thea is stressing out because there are now more people than originally expected.
