Page 22 of The Gingerbread Cafe
She moved to the fridge and he followed her.
‘You know, I always find baking therapeutic when I need to switch off from things,’ said Lukas. ‘Let me guide you through how to roll out and shape theVanillekipferl. As you work, I might even give you my trade secrets on making the best lebkuchen, just like Nell’s. She would have liked that.’
Chapter 20
After getting through Lukas’s impromptu Christmas Day baking lesson without causing chaos or wanting to murder anyone, Gretel was sure she deserved a break.
‘More hot chocolate?’ she asked.
She poured two mugs and they moved into the dark café. Gretel lit a few candles and dared to switch on a string of fairy lights, whilst Lukas plumped up two cushions on one of the comfy leather sofas. They sat together, the only background noise the soft, squeaky snore of a ferret.
Maybe sipping hot chocolate was even more intoxicating than drinking wine, because curled up on the sofa with Lukas’s warm body enticingly close to hers, something inside Gretel was almost melting; and it wasn’t just from the heat of her drink.
‘Would you miss this place if we sold it?’ she heard herself ask.
‘I didn’t think so, but …’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, I’ve had my heart set on opening up my own restaurant in Lower Paddleton one day. I’d call it Knight in the Mill. You know. After my surname, and the old mill building I want to buy.’ Lukas had barely touched his hot drink, yet his face suddenly looked uncharacteristically warm. Was he blushing? She wanted to lean over and press her hands against his cheeks. But then she’d bealmost on his lap and what if she toppled? Her face would be dangerously close to his, and then …
She shook her thoughts back to the present. As much as she was enjoying the direction of her unexpected lap-tumbling vision, it was a tad rude to fantasise about your guests.
Gretel cleared her throat. ‘Knight in the Mill. It’s … lovely.’ She tried to ignore the sad twinge which reminded her that Lukas getting his dream meant selling The Gingerbread Café and Gretel losing hers.
Gretel had been strangely transfixed by Lukas’s smoky grey eyes since they’d been lounging on the sofa, but suddenly they were almost aglow. ‘I still want to lead the team at La Carotte Rôtie to get that Michelin star. But the bigger dream has always been to have my own place, where I create everything – not just the menus. The whole vibe. The ambience. A place where people want to be, like a true celebration of food. Right from the paintwork to the napkins, I want to make those tiny decisions that make the experience complete.’
Lukas gesticulated with his hands as he spoke, and now it wasn’t just his eyes that were glowing. It seemed like his whole body was ablaze with a passion for his work. She could feel herself leaning towards him as though his zeal was magnetic. Was he leaning too? With every inch of her she hoped so. Before she could think it through, she was stretching her body over him to put her mug down on the table next to him, even though she had table space of her own. Was that obvious? In that moment, she didn’t seem to care.
Her hip lost its balance on the soft sofa cushion and her secret tumbling fantasy started to play out.
‘Woah.’ He grabbed her waist to stop her falling fully into him, even though she’d definitely wanted to.
She turned her upper body to face him, still held gloriously in those solid hands. The hands of a chef with the strength of aknight. How hot they felt against her jumper dress. She bit her bottom lip. She wanted to kiss him. The fire in his eyes told her he felt something too. So what was stopping them? She sensed her lips moving slowly towards his, testing the air between them. Tasting it, almost. It was … spicy, sweet, smoky. He was beginning to look hazy …
And then he pulled away and winced, the split-second panic in his eyes sending a jolt of mortification straight through her. Lukas lowered her back to safety on the sofa and then stood up quickly, coughing into his hand. ‘The biscuits – they’re burning. Blasted oven timer must be on the blink. I sensed this place was getting way too hot.’
What did that mean? But Lukas was off towards the kitchen and she reluctantly pushed herself up to follow him. Didn’t he know burning everything was just part of baking? Well, he was clearly a man of priorities. It was obvious he’d rather stick his face into a red-hot oven than get it close to hers.
As she heard him swearing from the kitchen, the embarrassing reality of the last few minutes sank in. She’d been stretching across him like a keen cat and that was clearly the last thing he’d wanted. She would never understand people.
When Gretel made it to the kitchen to inspect the oven’s offerings, her heart sunk. ‘They’re burnt to a crisp.’ She poked the tray with a wooden spoon and realised the universe was trying to tell her something. ‘Even with a trained chef on hand, I still managed to incinerate the biscuits. What does that say about my chances of running The Gingerbread Café?’
‘I’m more worried about what it says for my chances of leading my kitchen to secure that Michelin star,’ Lukas replied. ‘This is what happens when you lose focus. When you let yourself get distracted by …’ He ruffled a hand through his hair and she guessed he was thinking of thenearly kiss. A million embarrassed butterflies died a death in her stomach.
Then his face dropped even further. He raced to his backpack and pulled out the watch he’d taken off when he’d started baking. ‘Shit. I’m late for my shift! I’m never late for work.’ He looked at her, like she was in charge of time. ‘You see?’
He huffed in frustration. It wasn’t quite as mean as his usual sternness, but after the almost, sort of truce …
‘None of this is a good idea,’ he said, as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing his things.
None of what? Cooking? Being nice?
‘I’ve got to go. I …’ He raked a hand through his hair. Was he about to apologise? ‘I’ve got somerealcooking to do.’
Gretel felt something inside her tighten. Heaven forbid his pretentious diners should go without their dark chocolate on a pigeon, or whatever it was. She folded her arms, waiting for him to leave.
When he’d gone, even the sight of the snow settling outside the window didn’t bring her any cheer. She had stupidly let herself begin to warm to him. But his behaviour had pushed her back out into the cold.
Chapter 21
It was two weeks since Christmas had passed and Lukas was still being evasive. Thenearly kisshad been a humiliating mistake and Gretel was telling herself she was happy to forget it. Who needed people, anyway?
