Chapter Nineteen
Teagan scanned the freshly printed schematic for the street fair, the feeling in her chest oscillating between shock and pure, unadulterated excitement.
“Jeez, Brennan. You did this in four days?” She lowered the detailed pages to the already-covered office desk in front of her, letting the excitement win out. “It's amazing.”
Brennan shrugged, kicking back in the chair on the other side of the desk like no great shakes. “It wasn't so hard, once Adrian and I factored in how many tents we'll need for food service and the best setup for the prep stations. He's done some catering and stuff before.”
“Yeah, but you thought of everything. Foot traffic, evacuation routes, a first-aid station. Not to mention exactly what equipment we'll need in each tent. I mean, it's . . .”
“It's up to code,” Brennan said, his stare pinned firmly to the schematic. “It'll do. How's your dad?”
“Still doing too much.” She closed her eyes, riding out her exhale before popping them open to continue. “Dr. Riley's got him on a pretty good regimen with monitoring and meds right now. As long as he keeps taking it easy, he'll be okay.”
Not that she'd been able to get him to take it easy to begin with. Her father might not be putting in any grueling hours at the restaurant, proper, but he'd thrown himself into plans for the street fair, locking up the deal with the owner of the Cold Creek Brewery and doing tireless work to get the word out about the event. But all the easygoing charm on the planet couldn't erase the lines of fatigue that had been etched around his eyes just this morning, and damn if they hadn't torn at Teagan all day.
Her father wasn't getting any better. If anything, he was only getting worse.
“Listen.” Brennan leaned forward, pushing up the sleeves of his gray Henley shirt to prop his forearms over his thighs and clearly choosing his words with care. “I don't mean to pry, and you can tell me to go screw if you want. But I've got to ask, have you got a long-term solution worked out here? I mean, I'm glad as hell your dad is able to take some time to rest. But Lou is out of the picture for good. Diabetes and high blood pressure are no joke, and we both know the hours and the labor involved in running this place aren't too kind. Are you sure your father is going to be able to come back for the long haul?”
“No.”
Teagan's gut pitched toward her knees at the out-loud admission, and God, she'd never hated the word so much. But she was far from stupid, and denying the truth wouldn't take care of her father. “I'm not going to lie to you, Brennan. Even after we pull off this street fair and get things right with the bills, it's going to take a lot to get this place running smoothly again. I know you and I can figure out the bar, even once I go back to the station. But the kitchen . . .” She trailed off, unease burning a path through her chest, and Brennan lifted his chin in a quick nod of understanding.
“You need someone permanent. Someone who'll stay.”
Teagan bit down on the
yes
forcing its way out of her mouth, snapping the sentiment in half. Sure, denial wouldn't serve her in the long run, but she wasn't about to let the bigger picture torpedo her efforts, either.
No matter how spot-on Brennan was about what she needed.
“I'll have to figure out the kitchen and hire someone new, yes. But first things first. I need to get through the next two weeks, and the only way I can do that is one step at a time.”
“I'm sorry,” Brennan said, his dark eyes flashing with honesty. “I know you're dealing with a lot. I didn't mean to make this harder for you.”
“You didn't,” she said, matching the truth in his words. “In fact, this work you did on the setup has been incredible. Thank you.”
He waved her off. “No problem. I'm glad to be busy. Speaking of which, I've got to do bar inventory before we open. Just let me know what else I can do for the street fair.”
He pushed up from the armchair adjacent to the desk, a momentary flicker that looked an awful lot like pain streaking across his face. The expression lasted barely a second, but it slapped Teagan to her feet anyway.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and Brennan froze into place across from her.
“I'm fine.” The words flew from his mouth as if they were automatic. “A little hungry, but otherwise great.”
“Oh.” She slid a quick head-to-toe assessment over his frame, but everything appeared to be all systems go. Damn, all this worrying about her father and the bar had her seeing things. “Well, definitely eat before dinner shift starts. I'm hoping for a busy night.”
“You got it, boss.”
Teagan sank back down into the geriatric office chair behind the desk, shuffling through the mountain range of paperwork for the street fair. Now that the schematic was done and the permits had been approved, they could really dive into planning the food. Coiling her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck, she picked up the tentative menu ideas she'd worked out with their food service distributor, then started to fine-tune with Jesse and Adrian.
You need someone permanent. Someone who'll stay.
Okay, so she hadn't planned on falling into bed with Adrian, and she damn sure hadn't planned on it being the most mind-leveling experience she'd had since . . . well, ever. But the thing Teagan had expected least of all was repeating the process every night after that, to the point that being with Adrian, even one day at a time, had become her default.
And it felt deliciously good.
“No,” she whispered, giving herself a stern shake. No matter how good he made her feel in both the kitchen and the bedroom, what was going on between her and Adrian was as temporary as everything else. The sooner she got the Double Shot back in the black, the sooner Adrian could get on with his life where he belonged. The kitchen was his lifeblood, and he was already risking too much by being here. Once the street fair was over and his arm healed completely, he'd go back to the resort and she'd take care of her father and find a new cook, just like they'd planned.
Damn it, her stomach hurt.
“You skipped lunch again, didn't you?” came the gravelly voice from the doorway, and Teagan shot halfway out of her seat, the pen in her hand clattering to the desktop.
“Jeez, you scared the crap out of me!” she chirped, splaying her fingers over her slamming heart. “And how do you know I skipped lunch?”
“First of all, I've been in the building as long as you have, and you haven't left this office since we passed the threshold this morning. Secondly . . .” He crossed the room, his hazel stare full of hot intention as he stepped behind the desk to put a plate full of food down in front of her. “You always skip lunch.”
Teagan went from startled to sexed-up in about two seconds flat, her heartbeat not slowing an inch. “What's this, then?” she asked, pointing to the plate with lifted brows.
“Call it an early dinner. You need to eat.”
Oh God, the heat rolling off his body was intoxicating, and it shot straight through her as she stood up next to his muscle-wrapped frame. “Isn't that my line?” she asked, wordlessly daring him closer.
“Fair enough,” Adrian said, surprising her with the concession. But then he pulled her in tight with a quick yank toward his chest, and her breath escaped on a heated gasp. “Then I need to cook for you. How about that?”
“Okay.” The word collapsed from her lips on a whispered sigh, and she pressed up to brush her mouth over his in a long, indulgent stroke. Adrian's free hand uncurled against the back of her rib cage, locking them together from shoulder to hip, and the slide of rough denim and soft cotton sparked just enough friction on Teagan's aching skin to make her whimper.
“Christ, you're going to be the end of me, you know that?” His fingers drifted over her spine, ratcheting up her desire as he cupped the back of her neck to kiss her even harder. She parted her lips in wordless invitation, losing herself in the rasp of his calloused hands on the spot by her ear, the spicy cinnamon scent of his skin on her own. Suddenly, everything outside the room shrank backward, ceasing to exist. The only thing on the planet was this man, right in front of her in this moment.
And she was going to take him.
“But I've only just started with you,” Teagan said, tightening her grip over the hard plane of Adrian's chest. She felt his mouth part into a dark smile against the column of her neck, his reply hot over the angle where it tapered into her shoulder.
“Be careful, Red.”
She slid her hands outward over his chest, skimming a nipple through his shirt with the edge of one finger. “And why should I do that?”
His heart took up a fast, steady rhythm beneath her palm, his smile becoming downright wicked as he captured her wrist with his free hand and brought his mouth scant inches above her ear.
“Because I'm not too big on impulse control, which means if you're not careful, I'm going to lock that door, and you're going to end up naked and screaming right here on this desk.”
Their mouths crashed together in a tangle of tongues and unmistakable intentions, and Teagan didn't resist. She arched to meet Adrian's kiss with equal intensity, only the deeper it got, the more she wanted. Rocking back on the balls of her feet, Teagan shifted to gain better access to the rest of Adrian's body, but the combination of halted footsteps and a blurted curse from the doorway had her jerking to a stop.
“Uh.” Jesse jumped back in the doorframe and averted his eyes at the same instant Adrian swung Teagan in the other direction, shielding her from Jesse's view while still partly facing the door with instinctively curled fists.
“I'm really sorry,” Jesse said, the words a tangled rush. “The door was open, so I thought . . . I'll just catch you later.”
“Jesse.” Her voice wavered as she sidestepped around Adrian, sudden tension humming off his body in waves. “Is everything okay in the kitchen?”
“Oh. Yeah, absolutely.” Jesse gave his boots a good, thorough examination before chancing a look in her direction. “I just wanted to let Adrian know I finished station prep, but we can work on the menu for the street fair, you know. Another time.”
“Wait.” The word rumbled over Teagan's shoulder, and Adrian ran a hand over his T-shirt before stepping all the way back. “We're straight, Jesse. I didn't realize what time it was, but I'll be down in a minute, yeah?”
“Sure.” He ducked out of the doorframe with a nod, and as much as she wanted to pray for the ground to open wide and swallow her whole, Teagan lifted her eyes to Adrian's.
“God, Adrian, I'm sorry. I got carried away. I shouldn't have . . .” She trailed off, waving a hand between them rather than making an attempt to define the utterly magnetic kiss with words.
But rather than going all awkward or distant, Adrian reached up to cup her face, placing a soft, barely there kiss over her mouth. “You didn't, Red. This one's on me.”
“But Iâ”
“Make sure you eat before you come down for dinner shift. Fridays are usually a killer.”
Impulse had a protest springboarding to her mouth, but the words skidded to a stop before they could fully form. Adrian's expression wasn't his usual mask of hard lines and don't-mess-with-me bravado, nor was it full of a sexy dare just to watch her push back. The look on his face was so foreign, so at odds with anything else she'd ever seen there, it took her a minute to place it.
But by the time Teagan recognized the complete vulnerability glittering in Adrian's eyes, he'd already disappeared down the hall.
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Adrian hit the stairs at the Double Shot with a curse under his breath and a belly full of unease. Being around Teagan was far too effortless, both in the restaurant and out, and damn it, he knew better than to get caught up in a woman. But something about Teagan pulled him in like a force of nature, too big and powerful and gut-wrenchingly beautiful to resist, and giving in was a foregone conclusion.
Jesus. He'd been milliseconds away from tearing off every stitch of her clothing, right there on her desk. It didn't matter how high-powered his attraction to her was. He needed to get this under control, and he needed to do it
yesterday
.
“Hey.” Adrian jammed his thoughts into a mental drawer, slamming it tight as he rounded the corner to the main stretch of the Double Shot's kitchen. Jesse's nearly shaved head popped up in surprise, and he paused over the tidy pile of ingredients at the workstation in front of him.
“Hey. I didn't mean to bother you,” Jesse said, his focus lasered in on the food.
“No worries.” The unease in Adrian's belly made an encore performance, and hell. He might not be a share-your-feelings-by-the-campfire kind of guy, but Teagan was going to work with Jesse for the long term, and there wasn't any wiggle room in what the guy had seen. Time to man up and clear the air.
Adrian hauled in a breath. “So, about what happened up there . . .”
“You don't have to explain,” Jesse said in quiet interruption. “To be honest, I kind of just assumed, anyway.”
Shock filtered through Adrian's veins. “You did?”
Jesse's mouth ruffled in the smallest suggestion of a smile. “I'm back here in the kitchen with you two all the time. Just because I'm quiet doesn't mean I don't notice things.”
“Oh.”
Way to go, Holt. Real eloquent.
“Well, I don't want you to, you know. Think any less of her.”
“Why would I do that?” Jesse dropped the whisk in his hand to the stainless steel counter with a
click
. “I mean, the way you two look at each other, it's pretty obvious things are mutual.”