Deep Autumn Heat (6 page)

Seb thought for a few moments before speaking. “I always spend Labor Day weekend in Star Harbor, but this time I’ve decided to stay for longer. I need some space to think away from my restaurant—from New York. Taping on my new show doesn’t start until January, and I want to get my head clear. Plus, I’m looking to open a new place, and I’m scouting out properties in Boston.”

“Okay, now the million-dollar question. Why are you standing outside the back door of my restaurant at five forty-five in the morning?”

Seb shrugged. “I want to watch you work.”

Lexie let out a brief laugh. “I don’t think so.” Sebastian standing over her while she worked would be like Picasso watching a cartoonist draw.

“Oh, come on. I might pick up a few pointers from you.” He gave her a sly smile.

She looked at him dubiously. “Don’t insult me, Chef Grayson.”

“I’m not,” he said earnestly. “I’m dying to know what’s in that coconut cake.”

“Well, you’re out of luck,” she snapped. “I always bake my cakes at night. I just ice them in the morning.”

“Let me stick around anyway. I promise I’ll stay out of the way. I want to see you in action.” As he spoke, he took a few steps toward her, closing the distance between them.

Lexie held up one of her hands, both to keep him physically at bay and to stop him from speaking. “Just so I have this straight, a nationally acclaimed chef whose star has only begun to rise wants to observe me in my no-name restaurant to see if he can ‘pick up a few pointers’?”

“You think my star is rising?” He looked pleased.

“That is beside the point,” Lexie said in a disgruntled fashion. “I’m asking you if that’s what you actually intend. To learn from me?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

“All right then, what’s the joke?”

“No joke.”

“Well, okay then, let me think about it.” Lexie struck a pensive pose for all of two seconds. “No.”

“Please reconsider.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m a famous chef who needs to work on his people skills. My assistant told me I had no warmth. Yesterday, when I was in your restaurant, I watched you work. You’re full of passion and you have a way with people. You always have a smile on your face, even under pressure. You were the only one on the floor, but you didn’t yell or snipe at anyone. I want to watch you. Learn from you.”

Lexie fell silent and looked down. Seb pressed his advantage, taking another few steps
toward her.

“It would mean a lot to me.”

She stayed quiet, head down, considering his request.

He was right in front of her now. “Please,” he asked.

She looked up at him. The heat from his gaze burned into her. It was difficult to think clearly when he was staring directly at her like that, and from less than a foot away. He was just so
large
, so masculine. His hooded green eyes, the planes of his face, and that mouth. Oh, that mouth. She tried to push the thought from her mind.

Privately, she had to admit that it
would
be something to be able to say that the famous Sebastian Grayson had been in her restaurant. In her kitchen. She could handle a day with him, right? Besides, all of the kitchen staff and customers would have their eyes on him. It wasn’t as if he’d be able to try anything.

Lexie brushed off the nagging feeling that something could go wrong. “This definitely goes against my better judgment, but I’ll say yes.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you changed your mind. You won’t be sorry.”

“I’m already sorry. And you might be, too, when you hear my conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“One, you stay out of my way. No talking, no messing around, and definitely no helping.”

“Done,” Seb agreed.

“And two, no touching me.”

Seb groaned. “Aw, c’mon. I’m dying to touch you right now,” he murmured, his voice roughening.

“No dice,” she said, holding up a warning hand as she took a step backward.

“Cole already told me he’d kill me if I touched you.”

“Cole’s a wise man,” Lexie said, her eyes locked on Seb’s. He was a bit too close for her comfort, regardless of her “no touching” rule. “He knew I wouldn’t like it if you did.”

“No one said I couldn’t look at you, though.”

“So look.” Lexie shrugged her shoulders before raising a brow. “It’s not your eyes I’m worried about.”

Seb threw back his head and laughed heartily. “There’s that sassy mouth. I like it. No one ever talks to me like that.”

“Well, there’s a lot more where that came from, buddy,” Lexie muttered, as she walked around him to the service door. She fished the key out of her pocket and fit it into the lock. As she jiggled the key to open the sticky lock, she made the mistake of looking up over her shoulder. Seb had one hand on the side of the building, effectively trapping her between the door and his body.

He smiled, a slow, sensual smile that reached his eyes. “You look delicious,” he said in a low voice. “I’m tempted to break rule number two right now.”

Lexie swallowed but collected herself before he could notice. “Don’t even think about it, Chef,” she said as she turned the key and slipped inside. “I have the sheriff’s department on speed dial. Now I’ve got to get this place in order before we open, so sit down and stay out of my way.”

Seb stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “I can’t snoop around to find your coconut cake recipe?”

“There isn’t one. It’s all up here.” Lexie tapped her temple with her forefinger.

“Guess I’m out of luck for now. But I’ll get it out of you.”

“Not a chance.”

“I can be very persuasive.” He moved closer to her.

Lexie stiffened. “Pretend I’m immune to your methods.”

“I’d rather find out for myself.”

The service door creaked as Buster walked in. Lexie breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing Seb, Buster gave her a quizzical look.

“He’s observing for the day. And he’s already driving me nuts.”

Buster shrugged and nodded once at Seb. “Hullo,” he said softly, and without further ado, he took off his jacket and methodically began setting up his workstation.

Lexie looked at Seb. “Well?”

“I’ll sit right here,” Seb said, gesturing to a small wooden bench by the service door. Lexie nodded, shucked off her jacket, and went to work. As she prepped her station and began organizing the pastry dough, she snuck a glance at Seb. He was watching her intently, his large body dwarfing the tiny bench. He’d taken off his own jacket and had slung it beside him.

Quickly, she shifted her attention back to her work. No use dwelling on his presence; she’d already wasted enough time arguing with him. She kept working, noticing that Buster kept one eye on Sebastian the whole time he was chopping vegetables.

Lexie spoke into the silence. “Glad the produce came this morning. What explanation did Art give for the missed delivery yesterday? I meant to call him to complain, but I never got the chance.”

“Wasn’t Art. Some kid named Jake dropped the stuff off,” Buster said.

“Weird,” said Lexie, puzzled. “I really have to call Art to see what’s going on. Remind me to do that after breakfast. And Luke is coming later to fix the gas line?”

“Yep. Can’t imagine how it broke again. But don’t worry. We can set up the grill room like we did yesterday to pick up the slack until the stove is working again. You also asked me to remind you to call the lawyer.”

“Oh, yes, thanks. I need to get the paperwork squared away for the catering business.”

Buster grunted. “When are you planning the launch?”

“In a few weeks. I was thinking about making Emma’s wedding our first official event—you know, cater to a friendly crowd, then open up LMK Catering for business afterward.” And with Paige Sinclair lurking around, it couldn’t be soon enough.

“Smart.”

They continued to work in companionable silence, and the only sounds in the kitchen were related to food preparation. Soon, her line cooks came through the door. They must have
been studying up on their culinary knowledge because they knew exactly who Sebastian Grayson was. Unfortunately, the moment they clapped eyes on him, they were completely useless. Lexie was forced to continue chopping and grating for half an hour while her assistants drooled over Seb.

He didn’t have to look so smug while he was signing autographs and telling war stories. Nor did he have to look so good—his long, strong body leaning back against the wall—as he spoke with them.

Finally, Lexie got her cooks back on track and handed the rest of the prep work off to them. She returned to her baking, and threw on an apron in case it got busy and she needed to cover for her waitstaff. She jumped in and out of projects, picking up the slack, urging her staff on, and taking care of LMK’s customers.

She completely ignored Seb, even though he was helpfully doling out suggestions to her cooks and flirting with her waitresses, blatantly breaking Rule Number One. Everyone except her and Buster plied him with food and drink, going out of their way to make him comfortable and happy—at the expense of their own work. As she became increasingly exhausted, Seb was living the good life.

Before she knew it, the entire day had slipped away and it was dinnertime. There was an especially busy crowd, and she was dashing around so much that she forgot Seb was even there. But when she straightened from bending down to take several roast chickens out of the oven, she realized Seb was sitting on the bench behind her, eating a piece of her coconut cake and staring at her ass. She glared at him as he took a forkful of cake and popped it in his mouth, giving her a wickedly lascivious look.

“All right. That’s it,” she said angrily. “You are driving me insane. You have to go.”

He swallowed the bite of cake. “What?” he asked, his impish grin belying the innocent tone of his voice.

“What? I’ll tell you what. All day you’ve been distracting my staff, eating my food, and generally annoying the hell out of me. I want you out of here now.”

“I’ll tell
you
what,” Seb said easily, standing as he spoke and setting the cake plate on one of the prep tables. “I challenge you to a culinary throw-down. You choose the dish, and we’ll both make our own versions. We’ll get friends to judge. If I win, I get to shadow you for a week.”

Seb’s large body filled up the space around her, but for once, she didn’t care. “Why should I accept your challenge? I could just kick you out right now.”

“What’s the matter?” he smirked. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

Lexie straightened her back. “Quite the contrary. But why go to all the trouble when I know I’m going to win?” she said in as condescending a tone as possible.

“Big talk, but I haven’t seen too much action here,” he goaded, gesturing toward her two line cooks. “You have other people doing your dirty work.” It was a deliberate provocation and she knew he knew it.

“What?” Lexie sputtered, outraged. “You are such a hypocrite. Like you don’t have line cooks and a sous chef working for you?” While her staff watched with openmouthed expressions, Lexie motioned for him to follow her out the service door and into the back alley. He casually slung on his jacket and did as she asked.

The door slammed behind them.

“How
dare
you imply I don’t do my own cooking,” she hissed. “I created every single recipe this restaurant serves. I handpick each ingredient and taste-test everything half a dozen times before I even let Buster try it. I trained my assistants. I determine what is good enough to leave this kitchen. You see me in there busting my butt to provide the best food and service the LMK can offer.”

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “And what a fine butt it is,” he said.

She looked at him in disgust. “Fine. I accept your challenge, and I can’t wait for the chance to wipe that ridiculous, smug expression off your face,” Lexie said, lifting her chin up slightly. “And
when
I win, you will not return to the LM Kitchen. Ever.”

“Agreed.”

“Good then.” She held out her hand for a handshake.

Seb looked down at her outstretched hand, and then up again at her face. “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “If I’m going to break your second rule by touching you, it’s damn well not going to be your hand.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This,” he said, closing the short distance between them. Without any other preliminary, he wove his fingers through her hair and bent his head down to kiss her firmly on the mouth.

His lips were firm and devastatingly urgent, his body hot against hers. The hand in her hair gripped her, holding her captive, demanding her surrender.

She closed her eyes, yielding to him.

With her head tipped back, she was almost off balance—the only thing holding her to him was his hand and the pressure of his lips on hers.

He pressed his body closer, her softness melting into his hard strength. She felt naked, vulnerable, and completely helpless to do anything but enjoy the pleasure washing over her in waves.

It was him. Only him, awakening her body from a deep, dark slumber.

His lips teased, coaxed, insisted. She couldn’t help herself. Opening her mouth, she let him inside. As soon as she provided him entry, he plundered. Dimly, she heard him groan.

All the pent-up emotion that she’d denied herself for so long came out in an overwhelming rush. This one kiss sent shock waves of lust throughout her entire body. Lexie didn’t even try to lock down the floodgates of pleasure.

Sebastian was like a drug, overwhelming her senses. He tasted of chicory, and yes, coconut. When she shuddered against him in small, helpless movements, he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her even closer, crushing her breasts to his chest as he drank her in. Her nipples hardened with the friction.

Without even realizing it, Lexie had slipped her arms around him, inside his jacket. He was warm and he smelled of leather and kitchen and autumn evening air. It was intoxicating. How could a man like this—a man she didn’t even want to like—make her feel so incredible?

Sebastian took what he wanted from her, tasting, touching, feeling. His mouth was everywhere—on her lips, her jaw, her throat.