He cast his eyes downward, as if the admission cost him something. He hoped he wouldn’t regret being honest with Francesca. If she told her sister, it could jeopardize his job here. But he wanted to offer her something because his presence so clearly disrupted her own ambitions. He wanted her to know that this position meant as much to him as her award to her.
Francesca reached to cover his hand in her own. The brief touch was warm and comforting.
“Why?”
Her hand retreated and he missed the contact. “I slept with the boss’s daughter.”
His words hung between them and Francesca let them sink in. “Your boss was…”
“The owner of the restaurant.”
“Is that against the rules?” Francesca’s brow furrowed.
“Not exactly, but it’s frowned upon.”
“I wouldn’t think that was a fireable offense,” she said. “Especially for such a popular chef.”
Aidan’s back tensed. “It wouldn’t be, except she also happened to be engaged to the restaurant manager.”
“Oh, shit,” Francesca said, and Aidan raised his eyes to hers at the curse. “That’s bad.”
She reached her hand back to his for a reassuring squeeze.
“I didn’t know, until we were caught fooling around one day before opening. Then all hell broke loose and the truth came out. I’d never have touched her if I knew she was taken.”
He met her gaze, imploring her to believe him. He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much what she thought of him. He didn’t want to disappoint her.
“She should have been honest with you—she used you. And he should have dumped her, not fired you. I don’t blame you from getting as far from LA as possible.”
Aidan shrugged. “She made up some lies and he believed her. I tried to explain, but they didn’t believe me.”
“Your reputation preceded you, I guess,” she replied.
“Those reports are vastly overblown. The tabloids love a juicy story. They’re not all true.” Aidan hadn’t minded when he was a hotshot young chef. As he matured, he wished he could shake that reputation.
“At least you can escape them while you’re here.”
“I hope so. I’m counting on the fact that by the time they figure out where I am, the next story will have captured their attention.” He was just buying himself time.
“What happens after the holidays? You’re only here until January.”
Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know.” The thought terrified him. As much as uncertainty was part of being a chef sometimes, he hated it. “I’ll head back to LA and hope the scandal has blown over.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something else. You’re a talented chef.”
“I hope so. Food is my life. I don’t know what I’d do if I wasn’t in a kitchen.” That was the truth. Aidan had drifted aimlessly until he discovered his talent with food. It had saved him.
“Where did you train?” He was encouraged that she was curious about his life. They were forging a tenuous bond, which was a relief. Things would go much more smoothly if they found a way to get along.
“At my mama’s hip,” he replied.
Francesca’s brows rose in surprise. “You don’t have a formal education?” He could see her mind working, trying to puzzle out how he managed to cook with the skill he had without training.
“Nope, no money for that. My recipes are based on my mama’s that were passed down to her. When I owned my food truck, I perfected my own riff on them.”
“You have incredible natural talent, then,” she said. “I’ve studied wine since before I could legally drink and have had the best education money can buy. And I have to work my ass off to succeed.”
Aidan didn’t get the sense she was bragging, though he could see that some people might interpret her statement that way. He read her tone as one of wonder and he got the sense it took a lot to impress Francesca. His chest filled with pride that she was obviously impressed by him.
“Who first sparked your interest in wine?”
Her eyes softened. “My dad. He used to take me around to check the grapes. I followed him everywhere, through all the steps of production. I was fascinated by how things such as soil, weather, or grape variety could affect the taste of a finished product months later. We used to make a game of it—trying to guess what the finished product would look and taste like.”
“Those are wonderful memories.” Aidan had similarly fond memories of his mother in the kitchen. With a pang, he realized how much he missed her. Even though it had been three years since her death, he thought about her every day. She was the most important person in his life. Francesca wiped a tear from her cheek. “What’s the matter?”Aidan asked.
“I miss my parents,” she explained. “Sorry about that. Even a year later grief comes out of nowhere.”
Aidan reached to cover Francesca’s hand with his own. He didn’t pull away and neither did she. “I understand. I lost my mom three years ago.”
“I’m sorry. What about your father?”
“He left when I was a baby. I don’t remember him. It was just me and my mama.”
“I can’t imagine losing a parent without family support. As much as my siblings drive me crazy, we’re there for each other.”
“I have extended family, but they live in Mexico. My mom moved here when she fell in love with my dad.” Aidan didn’t like to dwell on being alone. He hated the pity he’d see in others’ eyes when he explained his family situation. He saw only curiosity reflected in Francesca’s eyes.
Aidan thought back to the news story from last year with details of her parents’ deaths. Francesca’s parents died in a car accident the week before Thanksgiving.
Aidan tugged on the bottom of her stool and scooted it closer to him. Francesca leaned her head on his shoulder and he pulled their joined hands into his lap. With his other hand, he gently stroked her hair. He reached for one of the napkins leftover from their tasting and offered it to her.
“Thank you,” she said as she looked up at him with wide eyes. She sat up tall on her stool. “I didn’t mean to cry all over you.”
“No problem,” Aidan said. He realized they were still holding hands and had been for nearly the entire conversation. She felt small and delicate compared to him, and he had the urge to pull her into his arms. She bit her bottom lip, drawing his attention there and his thoughts turned from comfort to something hotter.
There was no denying his attraction to Francesca. As much as he shouldn’t act on those feelings, he couldn’t ignore them. From the first moment he met her when she was cursing his name, he’d been smitten. The fact that he’d been fired for being involved with his boss’s daughter meant that he needed to be on his best behavior in Harmony. He was lucky the details of his dismissal weren’t made public, but he had no doubt that the entire LA food scene was well aware of what occurred.
He carefully withdrew his hand, though he didn’t move to put distance between them. Playing with fire. Like it or not, that was Aidan’s way. He saw the line, paused, then ran past it into trouble. And he had no doubt Francesca would be all kinds of trouble.
While he was having an internal debate with himself, she had turned so that her knees bumped his. She seemed to have moved closer. Her hand landed on his knee and his eyes darted to hers.
Just one taste.
He leaned closer, cupped the back of her head and lowered his mouth to hers. As soon as her soft mouth slid against his, Aidan groaned. Heaven. He made no move to deepen the kiss, forcing himself to keep it light and teasing even while he wanted to devour her.
Francesca moaned softly and put her arms around his neck. She teased the hair at his nape with her fingers. Aidan tilted his head to deepen the kiss just a bit. Her mouth opened under his with a sigh, and his tongue sought entry without first getting permission from his brain. Their tongues slid together deliciously and Francesca moaned again. Her sweet moans were going to be his undoing.
His resolve to keep the kiss restrained was weakening by the moment. Francesca met each hungry kiss and returned the passion. She had shifted on her stool to lean closer to him and she threw a long leg over his thigh. He gripped her leg to hold her in place. She felt so good under his hands. Time melted away while they kissed and it wasn’t until the creak of the door at the top of the stairs registered in his brain that he pulled back.
Aidan shifted Francesca back to her stool and stood up quickly. He had made his way to the far end of the small room, pretending to examine the label of a wine bottle by the time the intruder made their way down the stairs. Felicity. His boss. Aidan’s pulse raced. He was nearly caught by his boss. Again.
Francesca looked dazed and Aidan was sure Felicity would figure out what they’d just been doing. She looked between them, her brow furrowed and Aidan braced himself for her wrath. Lips pursed, she addressed Francesca.
“Frannie, I heard you’re changing our wine specials. We don’t have time to reprint the menus before tomorrow because we also have to print Aidan’s tasting menu.”
Francesca’s eyes flashed and she sat up straighter. “I have to change the wine specials because of Aidan’s tasting menu. My previous pairings were all wrong.”
Felicity huffed out a long-suffering sigh. Personally, Aidan thought she was being overly hard on her youngest sister, who was only doing her job. The sisters stared at each other, neither giving any sign they intended to back down.
“She’s right,” Aidan said and both pairs of eyes swung to him. Oops. He may have miscalculated. He pushed on. “Francesca needed to change the wine. We just completed our tasting and have the final selections.”
Felicity looked between Aidan and Francesca. He could tell she wanted to argue the point, but was reluctant to challenge her newly hired celebrity chef who was known for impulsively storming off jobs. In this case, that seemed to work to his advantage.
“There’s no time to print both,” she said, her voice sounding defeated.
“We need to print my wine specials,” Francesca insisted.
Aidan held up his hand. “How about we print them both together. My menu with suggested wines next to each dish.”
Both women studied him with frowns. He was trying to figure out how he went from the best kiss of his life to having two women pissed at him in under two minutes. A new record.
“I suppose that could work,” Felicity conceded.
Francesca considered the proposal for another moment before she agreed. “That’s actually a good idea.”
“Ok, problem solved. I’m going to bring these dishes back to the kitchen.” He turned to Francesca. “Thank you for the tasting. Your choices will pair wonderfully with my food.”
He picked up the dishes and escaped up the stairs as quickly as possible, leaving Felicity and Francesca to figure out the details. He also needed to put some space between him and Francesca before he did something he’d very much regret.