The Rebound Pact (20 page)

They walked out of the winery and along the gravel road back to his house.
The charge between them was electric. He was a little glad she kept a good foot of space between them.

“Where are we going? We can
use my car.”

He smiled. “We’re not
getting into a car.”

She frowned, pursing her lips
. “What are you up to?”

He wiggled his brows.
“I told you it was a surprise.”

He led her around the back of the manor house toward the pond where he’
d had a small round table and two chairs set up under a weeping willow. The table was fully dressed in a white table cloth set for two and a vase of a half dozen pink lilies. A few people stood in white button down chef coats and chef hats to the side where longer tables had been set up as their work stations.

“What is this?”
She gazed up at him, amazement and excitement evident in her voice.

“This is your surprise. Three sous-chefs are competing for
a place beside you in the kitchen. Each of them has prepared a first and second course.”

She clapped her hands.
“How fun! This is awesome. Thank you.” Her steps quickened as they neared the table.

“
Katherine, Derek and Ellen, this is Gabrielle Dane, head chef of Belle Ami Bistro. Are you prepared to wow her with your culinary skills?”

The three chefs nodded, stepping forward to shake
his and Gabrielle’s hands. Holden loved how she could be both excited and girlish in one moment and completely professional the next. He pulled out a chair for Gabrielle to sit down.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said.

“Starved.” Her eyes shined with pleasure, and he craved more than anything to kiss her—but that was definitely not an option.

Chef Katherine stepped forward and lifted the lid off of a dish.
“I’ve prepared a first course of Asian spring rolls with carrots, cabbage, green onions, peppers, cashews and cilantro, wrapped in rice paper and a tangy peanut sauce for dipping.”

Holden’s mouth watered. Katherine placed a spring roll and saucer of dip on each of their plates. Ellen stepped forward with a vegan Caesar salad topped with homemade vegan parmesan
and garlic crusted croutons. Derek offered up a spinach artichoke dip with homemade tortillas.

“You didn’t tell me the news,” she said between bites.

Holden
had to tear his eyes away from her mouth. Being so close to her, watching her lips work around each bite. He gritted his teeth and glanced at the chefs who stood by their prep tables at a far enough distance that if he whispered they wouldn’t hear. He leaned closer, catching a whiff of her honeysuckle scent, his nostrils flaring. He whispered quickly so he could pull away, “Our competition upped the stakes. They open August 15
th
.”

“What?” she gasped,
setting down a half-eaten spring roll.

“Yeah.
But I talked to Hank. We’re opening in two weeks. We’ll beat them at their own game.” He was confident they would. Ridge was playing hardball and Holden was a master at the game. Plus, if Gordon Ramsey could whip a restaurant up in a couple of weeks, couldn’t he? He had a few friends with the county that could push the permits through quickly.

Her eyes
widened, anxiety evident. Her lips thinned as she grimaced. “Two weeks, Holden?”

He nodded. “We can do it.”

She shook her head. “Impossible. My equipment won’t be here for a month.”

“We’ll
get them to rush order it.”

She scooped up a bit of dip
on a tortilla, chewed, then took a bite of the Caesar. “Okay. I’ll call them after lunch. It will probably cost an arm and a leg.”

“I can afford it. There’s no room for us to budge. If your supplier can’t get it, we need to find someone who can.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” She bit into the spring roll again. “We might have to add all these items to the menu.”

Holden laughed. “I thought you wanted to keep it simple?”

“I did, but these are awesome. What is your budget anyway? How many sous chefs can I pick?”

He grinned, pleased that his surprise had panned out.
“How many do you need?”

“At La Peche I had six
and then another six prep cooks, but we were huge. A couple hundred or more diners at any given time.”

“
The bistro is going to be able to hold about sixty at the max.”

Gabrielle
nodded. “Okay. Let’s keep eating and I’ll do some thinking.”

“Ready for t
he second course?”

“Yes!”

The chefs came forward once more, each presenting delicious dishes—a falafel, vegetarian chili and spinach basil ravioli pomodoro.

By the time they were
finished, they were both completely stuffed.

Gabrielle
glanced at Holden, mischief dancing in her eyes. “I can’t decide. I want all three.” She leaned toward him, beneath the tablecloth, hiding her fingers dancing up his thighs. They both glanced to make sure no one noticed. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

Holden’s his lips twitched, his cock stiffening. He’d have to stay at the table for a long while…Walking around with a hard-on wasn’t going to work.
“What’s that?”

Her eyes twinkled.
“All three and no prep-cooks.”

Holden held back the wink he wanted to toss her. God she was making it hard to think. Her fingers danced over his erection before she pulled back, taking a sip of her wine. Holding back a groan, he said,
“How about all three and one prep-cook?” He’d chosen the best three out of all the sous-chefs he’d interviewed in the hopes she would like them all. The cook-off was a good way for them to show their best skills thinking a job was on the line, but it was also a nice way for Gabrielle to get a warm meal that she didn’t cook herself.

“Really?”

The delight in her eyes shook him. “Yes.”

A wide smile covered her face.
“Deal.”

“Shake on it?” he asked.

“For now,” she said with a sly wink. “But later, when I have you alone, we’re going to seal it with something much sexier than a shake.”

Chapter Fourteen

A
fter the dozens of wine tasters left at the close of the tasting room, where Gabrielle had pitched in when one of the attendants called out, she went to her office to check her messages one last time. Still nothing.

She’d left messages with all the vendors after lunch, but had yet to hear back from any. If she didn’t have messages by ten in the morning she’d get stalkerish on their asses. The bistro was on the line, and she wouldn’t let a little thing like no ovens, freezers or refrigerators get in her way.

She grabbed her purse and turned off the light, intent on leaving for the evening. After lunch—and hiring all three sous chefs, along with a recommended prep-cook—she and Holden had gone their separate ways, both with plenty of work to do now that the opening date had moved up ridiculously. She’d never met the owners of Ridge Vineyards but she imagined they must be real pieces of work. High-strung, first class assholes, used to walking all over people to get their way. She was exhausted and looked forward to a nice evening at home eating butter pecan soy ice cream all cozied up on the couch watching the History Channel with her dad and Max.

Sounded like a
n absolutely tranquil evening. Then she’d wake up bright and early, go for a run and do some pilates before venturing in to work again.

“
Gabrielle, wait up,” Holden said, jumping over the bar in a move that was so him. And had her heart palpitating.

“Hey, I didn’t see you around.”
She tried to keep her voice even, though it came out sounding a little breathy.

He came within inches of her, his scent caressing her.
Mmm… He always smelled so good. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some things to take care of, but I promise to be here on time tomorrow.” She flashed him a teasing smile.

“Want to come over tonight?” His eyes caressed her length.

Oh, yes, she wanted to come over tonight… But they needed just a little more space between them.
She’d have to ask Melanie if rebounders were supposed to have some sort of number of times they hooked up. “Not tonight.”

“Really?”
He looked surprised.

She reached out and squeezed his hand, trying to lesson his disappointment.
“I haven’t spent much time with my dad or Max since I’ve come home. And,” she hated to admit this, since it made her feel like a terrible daughter, “ever since my mom died, I’ve kind of been avoiding him. It still hurts, you know?”

“Yeah.”
He pulled her in for a hug, which she didn’t resist, and which was over far too quickly. “Well, you go do family things. I’m going to work late if you aren’t coming over.”

“Don’t wear
yourself out,” she said, itching to press a kiss to his lips. Resisting was near torture, but she couldn’t risk anyone glimpsing more than a simple boss/employee chat. The hug was bad enough. “See you in the morning.”

She turned around and headed for the door, even though
what she really wanted was to turn around and run back into his arms. How could she say no, deny him a night of pleasure? Deny herself the same thing?

She pushed open the door, her shoes crunching on the gravel as she reached her car. She was doing the right thing. To confirm her decision she called her father.

“Hey, sweetie. You on your way home?”

“Yeah.
How does ice cream and an evening of the History Channel sound?”

“Sounds great
.”

“
Sounds good to me, too!” her brother yelled in the background.

Gabrielle laughed. “Got me on speaker?”

“He insisted,” her dad said with a chuckle.

Decision affirmed! She sure did make the right choice in going home… If she hadn’t shown up, Max would have barreled into the manor house—without getting out of his car.

“Hey, Max,” she called into the phone. “You still like chocolate cookie dough?”

“
You know it!”

She hung up her cell
and glanced back at the winery. Playtime was over. And good thing. They definitely needed space if their mutual feelings of disappointment were any indication. No emotions. The major rule for rebounding.

After stopping off at the market and dealing with an unusual amount of shoppers, she finally arrived home.

“Gabs!” Max bounded out from the den, seemingly overexcited to see her. “You look terrible.” He snickered.

She punched him in the
arm—but not too hard. “And you look like a pile of dog poo.”

“I’m kidding.” He slung his arm around her shoulders and headed for the
kitchen. “But seriously, you do look a little…bedraggled.”

“Bedraggled?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

She put her arm around his waist, comforted in her brother’s presence. “I’m fine really.”

“Well, I’m glad. Seriously. How’s the restaurant coming along? I rearranged to come back by your opening date.”

She raised her brows and smiled as she looked up at him. He was maybe an inch or two taller
than Holden. “Actually, we had to move the opening date up. We open in two weeks. Will you be here then?”

“I will now. It’ll be hellacious, but…I want to be there for you. Why the sudden urge to move it up? What’s going on.” He grabbed the ice cream cartons out of the bag, wrinkling his nose at her soy version.

Lord had she missed her brother. “You need to move home. I miss
seeing you.”

“I know. I miss you
, too. Everyone, even this old house.”

“You’re home!” T
heir father walked out of the cellar where he kept his wine and held up a bottle of Ridge Merlot.

“Oh, no.
We won’t be drinking that stuff anymore.” She looked pointedly at Max. “They are the reason we’re opening early.”

Her father looked bewildered, shrugged and poured the glasses anyway. “Let’s not waste it, Gabrielle,
we’ll just never buy a bottle again,” he compromised.

Her shoulders sagged a bit with unwelcome acceptance.
“Fine. One last time.”

She sipped the wine, irritated by the flavoring. It was pretty good. No wonder they were giving Holden a run for his money. Well, she was going to make sure the bistro sold the heck out of
Belle Ami wine—and blasted Ridge out of the water.

“Gabs, seriously, why are you opening early, what did Ridge do?” Max asked, swirling his glass a
nd taking in the scent.

“
Competition is fierce. Ridge only decided to open a restaurant because of Belle Ami. Even stole his chef—which ended up being great for me.”