Deep Autumn Heat (23 page)

“I’m glad you told me,” she said quietly.

He leaned forward in his seat. “I am, too. I used to be able to talk to my dad. He’d come home after a long day of fishing, crack open a beer, settle in on the couch, and tell us stories about the pirates who roamed up and down the Eastern seaboard. We all loved the legend of the
Lorelei
the best—even Val, though he was a couple of years older than us and he pretended like he was too cool to care. We hung on Dad’s every word. Then after our homework was done, he’d take us to the beach and we’d roughhouse and watch the harbor lights. He told me I could be anything I wanted when I grew up and I believed him. Then he died.” Seb’s voice was throaty now, and he swallowed. “I think Cole took his death the hardest, but I sure was a close second. I caused my mom all sorts of grief, and learning how to cook to make her life easier was just one way I tried to make amends. But I didn’t count on how it would make me feel. In the kitchen, I had control. I had power. I liked it.”

There was a moment of silence as his last words resonated in the kitchen. Then he blinked, and Lexie knew the moment was over. “So tell me what’s on our agenda for today,” he said. “I talked to my assistant. I told her I’m going to stay in Star Harbor for a while longer. Your restaurant is closed and for once, I have no meetings with my Realtor. Let me take you back to bed.” His voice was husky, and hopeful.

Lexie laughed, despite his utterly proprietary manner. “Unfortunately, no. Today is the one free day I have before LMK Catering officially opens to the public. Emma and Jimmy’s
wedding was really just our test run. I need to prep and taste eight other dishes today. I’ve asked Buster to come in to assist, and Babs to come over for tasting.” Then she had an idea. “Want to help me out? Your palate would be a great addition.”

“Hm, let me think about that,” Seb mused, back to his usual arrogant self. “A beautiful woman to ogle, free food to eat, and Babs Kincaide to torment. It’s a no-brainer. Count me in.”

“I’m not sure I feel like being ogled, but it’s too late to disinvite you now. I promised Buster I’d be at the restaurant by ten. We’ve got ten minutes to clean up and get in the car.”

“We’ll make it,” Seb said confidently, as he tipped himself forward, stood up, and began clearing plates.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were at the back door of the LMK. Lexie let them in with her key, and they were greeted by a blast of warmth—the ovens were already preheating in anticipation of their cooking session. Buster was there, steadily washing the vegetables Lexie had asked him to prepare for the day’s work. He looked up briefly, gave a quick smile to Lexie and a nod to Sebastian, then bent his head down and kept working.

“What can I do to help?” Sebastian asked.

“Let me think,” Lexie said. “How are your butchering skills?”

“Top-notch,” he said without any hesitation.

“Okay. I have a rack of lamb that needs to be broken down.”

“Rack roast or chops?”

“Chops.”

“Single or double?”

“Single.”

“Frenched?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m on it. Where’s the rack?”

“In the large fridge against the far wall.” Lexie pointed in the right direction. “Third shelf from the top.”

Seb went to wash his hands before grabbing the meat. Their whole conversation had taken place in less than ten seconds. It was such a pleasure to work with someone besides Buster who knew exactly how to follow her directions. Not that her line cooks weren’t good; it was just that Sebastian was on a totally different plane.

Once she’d established that Sebastian knew where to find the knives he’d need, Lexie turned to her own work. Babs would be at the restaurant at two to start the tasting, so they had only four hours to prepare the eight main dishes, sides, and appetizers Lexie had created. She mapped out a game plan and got to it.

Lexie barked out orders while simultaneously working her own fingers to the bone. They’d have to work utterly nonstop for the entire time to make sure everything would be done in time for Babs.

Lexie snuck a look at Sebastian, who was slicing a roasted beet with military precision. She felt a flash of guilt for roping him into the cooking. She’d only intended for him to taste, but he’d insisted on helping—and then some. He was pulling more than his fair share of weight today.

She took another quick peek. He was intensely focused on the task in front of him, but he looked happy. Exhilarated, even.

“You okay?” she called to him from across the room.

“You bet, Spice.”

“Good. Just checking.” Lexie bent her head back down over her own preparations—pan-roasted local diver scallops with cream sauce and chives. The plan was to use each small scallop as an appetizer.

Lexie hadn’t made many portions of food for the tasting. Initially, it was going to be just her, Babs, and Buster. Sebastian added only one more. The workload was intense simply due to
the number of dishes that needed to be prepared.

Still, it would be worth the hassle to finalize the list of dishes her catering company would offer before the festival.

Lexie arranged the last curls of chopped chive atop one of the scallops. Done.

She went to wash her hands, sneaking a peek at the clock. One on the nose. She walked by Buster’s workstation. He had two dishes sitting to his left, already plated, and was working on a third.

“You good, Buster?”

He nodded curtly, not looking up from his work.

“Great.” She moved on to Sebastian’s station. He’d acted, in essence, as her sous chef, preparing components for her to use in her dishes. Just now, he was slicing some raw carrots into thin, elegant ribbons for a garnish. She stood next to him and watched for a few moments.

“Not bad,” she said admiringly. “It’s interesting to see it done without a mandoline.”

Seb snorted as he continued to work. “I could do this in my sleep.”

“I’m sure you could. I appreciate you helping out here today. You really didn’t need to, you know.”

He stopped slicing and looked up from his workstation, directly into her eyes. “I know,” he said slowly. “But I wanted to.” He held her gaze for a long moment, then bent his head back down. His hands resumed their expert rhythm, as if he’d never stopped using the knife.

“I appreciate it,” she repeated softly, before moving back to her own station to complete her dishes. Maybe she and Seb
could
work. They were compatible in both the bedroom and the kitchen, and he treated her like an equal. Respected her. She could get used to this.

By two, everything was done. The hot food was under the warmer and the cold food was on the counter. Lexie heard a knock on the restaurant’s front door just as she stuffed the last pan into the utility dishwasher. She signaled to Buster that he should go let Babs in, and asked Sebastian to help her carry the first few prepared dishes into the front room.

As soon as they emerged from the kitchen, each holding two dishes, Babs pointed a
finger at Sebastian.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked in a loud voice.

“Seb?” Lexie glanced at him and tried to ignore the infuriating smirk blooming on his face. “I invited him to taste, but he insisted on helping with the preparations.”

“Hmph,” Babs muttered. “Well, I s’pose three mouths will be better than two.”

“You can say that again,” quipped Sebastian. Lexie shot him a look.

“Put the plates here,” she said, depositing the ones she was carrying on a long table. When he was done, she grabbed him by the elbow and steered him to the back room. “We’ll be back with the rest of the plates,” she called over her shoulder, just before they disappeared into the kitchen.

As soon as they were out of sight, she pushed Seb against a wall, pointed a finger in his face—well, more accurately his chest—and hissed, “Behave!”

Seb hardly looked contrite. “Ooh, you’re sexy when you’re angry,” he said, just before he took her by the waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her.

Lexie struggled against him. This was neither the time nor the place. Especially since she knew exactly where it was going to lead. “No!” she hissed again. “Not now.”

“Later?” he asked hopefully, the hint of a smile curling his lip.

“You are incorrigible,” she said, pushing away from him. But she wasn’t angry. Not really.

Together, they carried out the rest of the dishes and some forks. Lexie seated Buster in the middle. This proved to be a wise move, because Sebastian immediately threw Babs a saucy smile. Babs simply sniffed in response.

Lexie sat down across from them and flipped out her notepad and pen to take notes. She looked around at Babs, Buster, and Sebastian, the three experienced and trusted cooks who would give her an honest critique. It was game time. She took a deep breath. “Everyone ready? Good. Let’s begin.”

Over the next half-hour, Lexie called out each dish before it was tasted, detailing each
substantial ingredient and the method of preparation. No one was cruel or rude. Just professional, succinct, and extremely helpful.

Lexie had just finished writing down “more salt” in the comments section for her rosemary chicken skewers. “Thanks,” she said. “Any other suggestions?”

“No,” Sebastian responded. “The spicing is otherwise excellent.”

“I agree,” Babs said, looking at Seb with what Lexie thought was a tinge of respect. Buster nodded in agreement.

“All right.” She went back to the kitchen to pull the last dish out of the fridge. “Our final course is a miniature panna cotta with seasonal berry compote. I decided to add it to the catering menu to make up for the lack of creamy desserts. I figured it’d be less fuss than a crème brûlée, since we won’t have to do any last-minute broiling. We can just prepare it in advance and serve it. What do you think?” She waited patiently while everyone took a bite.

“Perfection,” Seb said.

“Really? You have no constructive criticism for me?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s excellent. The vanilla note is just right, and the balance between the creamy cake and the compote is superb. I have no comments.” He looked at her and smiled before taking another bite.

She turned to Babs expectantly.

“Girl, it ain’t chocolate, and it ain’t your coconut cake, but it’s good. A keeper.”

“Buster?”

The older man merely smiled and gave her the thumbs-up sign.

“Well, I can see we’ve ended on a positive note. Thank you for helping me out. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of the work you put into this for me.”

Babs snorted. “I didn’t do anything except eat. And you didn’t even charge me.” She smiled. “When’s your next catering gig?”

“I’ve got a party for Pru Miller coming up mid-October, but I’m planning to debut my catering line at the Star Harbor Harvest Festival next weekend. I figure I’ll get the word out,
have samples for tasting, and pretty much just let people know I’m open for business.”

“Sounds like a great idea. I’ll be there,” Babs said. “Well, girl, I always knew you’d do good. Lots of people come to town from other parts, but they don’t understand what Star Harbor is really about. I’d say you get it all right. It’s written all over you. And your food. You’re gonna be great.”

“Thanks Babs. That really means a lot to me.”

“And you,” Babs said, pointing a finger at Seb. “You’d better watch your step, boy. We’ve all got our eyes on you.”

“A pleasure, as always, Ms. Kincaide.” Sebastian inclined his head in a courteous nod.

“Hmph,” Babs snorted again as she rose from her chair.

Buster started to stand, too, but with a subtle gesture, Lexie indicated that she’d like to walk Babs to the door by herself. And she did just that, escorting the older woman and thanking her again, profusely.

“You keep in mind what I told you before about Sebastian Grayson,” Babs said, not even bothering to keep her voice down.

“I’ll do that. Thank you again, Babs. You’ve really helped get things off the ground for me. Please let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for you.”

Babs nodded, and threw her coat over her shoulders. “Be well, girl. And stay out of trouble!” With that pronouncement, she left.

Lexie locked the door behind her and turned around. Buster and Sebastian were already gone, and so were most of the dirty dishes.

Lexie let out her breath in a soft whoosh. It was only three in the afternoon, but she felt like she’d run a marathon. All she wanted to do was sink down into the nearest chair, but she knew she should help clear and clean. The day had gone well. Better than she’d expected, thanks to Seb’s assistance. She and Buster would have scrambled to complete the dishes in time for Babs’s arrival, but because of Seb, they’d had a nice cushion.

She stepped back into the kitchen, and was promptly ushered out again by Sebastian.

“No, Spice, sit down. Buster and I have it.”

“What? You’ve been working just as hard as I have.”

“Actually, no. We’ve just been following orders. You’ve been doing all the heavy lifting. Besides,” Seb said, “I haven’t really worked in weeks. This was just what I needed. So sit down. Please.”

“Buster—”

“… is fine. I am fine. The kitchen is fine. Just rest.”

Reluctantly, Lexie sat down and watched as Seb disappeared back into the kitchen. As exhausted as she was, she was hardly going to sit there idly. She took out her pen and pad and began to jot down some further modifications to her recipes. She also made notes to discuss with her PR contact about her new menus and her website. It required a lot of concentration, but at least she wasn’t on her feet.

She was just about finished when Sebastian and Buster came back into the dining room.

Buster looked a bit weary, but Seb seemed to be brimming with energy. They sat down at her table, and Buster pulled out a small piece of paper from his back pocket, placing it solemnly on the table.

Lexie stared. “Is that what I think it is?”

Buster nodded. “Yep. Found it on the back door this morning when I came to open up. This one’s pretty bad. I didn’t want to give it to you earlier because I was afraid it’d mess up the tasting.” He handed it to her.