Deep Autumn Heat (25 page)

She shot him an answering smile and resumed her conversation with Mrs. Phillips, the rector’s wife, who was asking her about potentially catering for the Episcopal Church’s coffee klatch.

* * *

Sebastian watched Lexie with no small amount of pride. Her warm chestnut hair curled around her head, bouncing as she moved. In the light, her curls looked golden, like the glow emanating from her skin. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with pleasure and excitement.

The woman was simply a dynamo. It was brisk outside, yet she flitted around as if heated by a tiny, hot spark from within. She never stopped moving, stopped talking, stopped living. He’d recognized that about her the very first time he saw her in her restaurant. He’d been such a cad, then. Now he was as protective of her as he was hot for her.

It was reasonable to say that Sebastian had never met anyone like Lexie.

He was going to hate to leave her.

As he was ruminating about the circumstances that were forcing him back to New York before he was ready to go, a willowy, stunning blonde approached the booth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lexie stiffen. He stiffened too, expecting that he would need to come to her defense, but she got to the woman first.

“Some nerve you have, showing up here after the stunts you’ve been pulling,” Lexie said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the woman said icily, not even bothering to look at her, turning instead to him. “Sebastian Grayson, I presume,” she said, holding out her
hand.

“Yes,” he said. “And you are?”

“Paige Sinclair,” she said in a purr. “I own The Vanilla Bean in Falmouth. I’ve been to Helena. Your food is unbelievable. I especially loved your take on bouef en croûte with foie gras. It was outrageously decadent,” she said, coming around the table to stand right in front of him. “It inspired me to serve my own form of the dish. In fact, if you have a few minutes, I’d love to take you out for a cup of coffee.”

Paige looked up at him coquettishly with cornflower-blue eyes fringed with dark blond lashes. She was exactly the type of woman he’d have gone for, say, a month ago. She was gorgeous, she was seriously into him, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. But now, there was just one small problem.

She wasn’t Lexie.

He tried to look sorry, even though he wasn’t at all. “As you can see, I’m presently occupied.”

“Perhaps another time, then?” she said, holding out a card.

“Perhaps,” Sebastian said vaguely, pocketing the card and holding out his hand to shake hers. “Goodbye.”

It was a dismissal and she knew it. To her credit, she didn’t even blink. “A pleasure.”

She walked back around the table and said something to Lexie, who made a sharp retort. Paige frowned, shook her head, then sauntered away.

“What did she say to you?” Seb questioned.

“She said, ‘I’m close.’ ”

“Close to what?”

“Close to figuring out the cake recipe, I guess. Anyway, I told her I was on to her, but she said she didn’t know what I was talking about.”

“Do you really still think she’s the one behind the notes?” Seb questioned.

Lexie sighed. “At first I was convinced it was her. But now it seems less and less likely.
She’d have to be a total sociopath to leave the notes and then taunt me to my face.”

He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed, kissing the top of her head when she was close enough. “We’ll catch the person who’s doing it. And don’t worry about Paige, Spice. She’ll never make a cake as good as yours.”

“You don’t want to go get coffee with her?” Lexie asked cheekily, some of her tension dissipating.

“No. I want to stay with you.”

And he did. Especially since this would be their last night together before he left. The abrupt ending to his visit in Star Harbor had cast a pall over what should have been a lovely day. He found himself brooding about how enjoyable the past few weeks had been. Although he was very much looking forward to returning to his restaurant and getting things in motion for his upcoming show, he didn’t want to go back.

And he knew why.
She
wouldn’t be there with him.

Pushing aside that melancholy thought, he tried to focus on the woman in his arms. “Lexie,” he said, “let’s have a quiet night tonight. Just us. No restaurant, no cooking, and no thinking about rivals or work or recipes.”

“Or tomorrow,” Lexie whispered, looking up at him with a tremulous gaze.

“Or tomorrow,” he agreed, bending down to kiss her soft berry lips. As always, when his lips touched hers, he tasted sweetness, strength, and the promise of things to come. He couldn’t help pulling her close to feel the warmth emanating from her.

She pressed against him and desire hit him hot and hard. Her curvy body was so ready for his taste, for his touch, that he almost lost control right then and there on the Star Harbor Green. He wanted to devour her, to bring her to the heights of ecstasy, to revel as her control slipped until she was naked with desire for him. He wanted to watch as she climaxed in his arms, lost in the throes of passion, before he took his own release inside her tight body.

But they were outside in public, and Sebastian could feel many curious eyes on them. Reluctantly, he ended the kiss and pulled back from her. She smiled at him and extricated herself
from his arms before turning to talk to her employees.

Sebastian sighed loudly. He couldn’t wait to get her alone.

* * *

Lexie finished sealing a box filled with the remaining menus and price lists and straightened up from her bent position. With one hand rubbing the small of her back, she scanned the Green where other vendors and merchants were packing up their gear and disassembling their tables and booths. She’d already sent Rachel and Kiki back to the LMK with the extra food, courtesy of Buster’s truck, and was waiting for Buster to return so she could hand him the heavy box of materials, along with the rest of her LMK paraphernalia.

It had been a successful day, and Lexie was pleased with how people had responded to the new business. She knew she could count on at least a dozen jobs from today alone, and once word got out that she was open for business, she’d likely get a dozen more. By rights, she should be more than pleased. She should be ecstatic. But the thought of Sebastian leaving the next day dampened her happiness.

Speaking of Sebastian, where was he? He’d disappeared ten minutes ago when his cell had started ringing. Lexie glanced around the Green again, hoping to spot his tall figure. If he was nearby, he’d be easy to pick out of the crowd. But she didn’t see him. Frowning slightly, she turned back to finalize her cleanup.

Just then, she felt the familiar weight of his big hand on her shoulder. She turned, and was immediately enveloped in his embrace. Something didn’t feel right, though. She pulled back to look at him, noting his grim expression.

“What?” she asked.

“Bad news,” he said. “I just got off the phone with Ivana. I have to leave tonight.”

“Tonight?” she exclaimed. “But I thought you were going to leave tomorrow morning.”

“I thought so, too, but apparently there’s a dinner in the city I have to attend. Some damn
executive at the television channel has demanded my presence.”

“What time?”

“Eight.”

Lexie mentally calculated the time. “It’s four now. And it takes at least four hours to get from here to New York. So, you have to leave—”

“Now. I’m not even going to bother with my bag. I’m just gonna hop on the bike and go.”

“So this is it, then?”

“For now.”

Forever
. She buried her face in his chest, trying not to cry. He’d be gone just like he’d arrived—suddenly, unexpectedly—leaving her reeling. She breathed in deeply, trying to imprint his scent on her brain.

“Lexie,” he said, his chest rumbling with the vibration of his voice. “Lexie, remember when I asked if you would come to visit me in New York?”

Lexie nodded, her face still in his chest.

“I want you to come,” he said.

“When?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“As soon as possible.”

Reluctantly, she dragged her face away from his chest, inhaling one last time to cement his masculine smell in her mind. “I already told you, it’ll be hard for me to get away.”

“Try.” His voice sounded tight.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Damn it, Lexie,” he swore. Then he bent his head and crushed her lips to his own, pulling her body even more tightly against him. He was angry—she could feel it—but there was a patent desire behind his anger that overrode any negative feelings.

Lexie felt the kiss all the way to her toes—it was so powerful, so passionate, so utterly
primal
. Dizziness overcame her, and it was only his strong arms that kept her from falling.

Her surroundings faded away as her focus narrowed to him. Only him. His lips demanded her surrender and as always, when it came to Sebastian, she willingly gave it. Heat suffused her and blood rushed through her veins, warming her, cocooning her. Then Sebastian tore his mouth and his body from hers, taking with him that wonderful feeling of completeness. Lexie gasped at the shock of his sudden departure and opened her eyes, only to find herself standing alone and staring at Seb’s rapidly receding back.

And just like that, he was gone. To Lexie’s surprise and mortification, hot tears squeezed from her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. Within moments, they’d cooled to the temperature of the air. She quickly dropped her head and wiped them away with the back of her hand.

He hadn’t even said goodbye.

“Hans!” Sebastian yelled at his line cook for what must have been the hundredth time that week. “This béchamel sauce is garbage. Throw it out and do it again.” He tossed his spoon onto the counter and stalked down the line, tasting, criticizing, and—to his abject disgust—screaming. Since he’d returned to New York, he yelled his assistants’ names so often they had become like epithets.

“Too salty.”

“Needs more pepper.”

“Crap. I can’t serve this.”

And on and on.

When had his temper gotten so bad that he had resorted to yelling? Even at his worst, he’d never been like this. Tonight he’d made two of his female servers cry and a line chef storm out of the kitchen. Worse, his sous chef, Jorge, was constantly on edge.

After dressing down everyone in sight, Seb retreated to his small office. Once he was away from the clutter and din of his kitchen, he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. If he’d taken a page from Lexie Meyers, he would have simply given his staff quiet encouragement and direction rather than a verbal beat-down. But all his good intentions had gone out the window the day he’d left Star Harbor.

And Lexie.

It had been two weeks. Two long weeks since he’d seen her, touched her, spoken to her.

At first, he was too busy to call. He’d gone from that dinner with the TV execs to his restaurant to meeting after meeting after meeting. He’d barely had time to catch any sleep, let alone call. And now? Now it had been so long that it was uncomfortable. He wasn’t trying to be a jerk, but he just didn’t have the energy to remedy the situation. He knew what he wanted, but
he didn’t yet know how to make it happen.

Of course, Lexie hadn’t called him, either. She wasn’t the type to sit and pine for anyone. In fact, she’d made it clear that she wasn’t ready to leave Star Harbor. Still, there had to be some way they could make this work.

But a terrible suspicion nagged at Sebastian, invading whatever fragment of peace he’d managed to achieve since he’d returned, which admittedly wasn’t much. Was there some other, hidden meaning behind Lexie’s reluctance to visit him? Was Lexie unwilling to consider a trip to New York because she didn’t take him seriously?

Seb shook his head, as if to shake away his thoughts of Lexie. Damn, but it was near impossible. He stuck his head out of his office door and glanced around the kitchen. Line chefs stood at their stations, looks of deep concentration on their faces. Waitstaff scurried around, grabbing dishes here, dodging busboys there, as Jorge shouted orders.

Sebastian sighed. He’d been doing a lousy job since he’d returned. He should be managing them better. All he’d done was bark and holler and snipe.

Poor Ivana wasn’t immune to his wrath, either. He’d given her an earful for making him come back to New York City early, even though she’d only been looking out for his best interests. She’d taken his yelling like a champ. He’d make sure to give her a nice holiday bonus.

Seb swore, his muttered curse swallowed up by the din of the kitchen. This was all because of Lexie. She had bewitched him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—her tart retorts to whatever zingers he managed to send her way. Her mischievous smile. The way she sank against him when he kissed her. The way she gave herself to him completely when they made love.

Seb groaned softly. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Had he been utterly blind? He was in love.

He had the sneaking suspicion that if he told Lexie how he felt, she’d laugh in his face. Leave it to him to fall for the one woman who was emotionally immune to his charms.

And why hadn’t he called her? God, he was so stupid sometimes. He’d likely screwed
everything up.

Before he could fix things with Lexie, though, things needed to change professionally. Starting now. Sebastian thought for a few long minutes—about work, about life, and about Lexie. Suddenly, he knew what he needed to do to turn things around. Mentally steeling himself, he took a few more moments before facing his staff.

He grabbed his chef’s hat and slapped it on his head. Snaring his apron from its hanger, he tied it around his body. Then he stalked back into the kitchen. Without saying a word, he took up a place on the line, replacing the cook who’d left earlier that evening.

Seamlessly, he launched into the duties of a saucier—a lowly line cook. Duties that were at once familiar and comforting.

Side-by-side with his cooks, he measured, he poured, he stirred, and he tasted. His assistants watched him silently, obviously wondering what he was up to. Was he mocking them? Seb’s quiet work and subdued attitude spoke louder than any words he could say. That he respected them. That he was one of them.