Dirty Chef Read online

  “I was there for a like a week,” he grumbled. “A little to the left.”

  I shifted my fingers to the left and swiped past another dude.

  “Sorry—” Adam twisted his body and stole my phone, causing me to frown. “I can feel your hand moving when you swipe. It’s distracting, so I’m just gonna put it here.” He tossed it on the table. “Proceed, please.”

  “Proceed, please,” I mocked, slightly annoyed. “You know, some of us want to fall in love and make cute babies.”

  Adam stilled. A beat later, he turned his head and looked up at me. “You want kids?”

  I’d forgotten I hadn’t been very open with this change. “Well…yes. For the past year or so, I’ve been…yeah. I mean, I’m getting ready for that. I’m not getting any younger, that’s for sure.”

  His forehead creased, and I automatically smoothed a finger along his skin.

  “I was wondering why you were so hopped up on Isla’s pregnancy,” he said pensively.

  I peered down at him with an uncertain smile, and my stomach twisted in knots. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you babysit.”

  He huffed and turned onto his side again, grabbing my hand to slide it into his hair.

  He didn’t say anything else on the matter.

  Four

  Adam Grady

  Of fucking course she was ready for kids. How had I missed this? Or thought otherwise?

  I guess I’d kinda hoped she’d change her mind over the years.

  For every day that passed, this fucked-up unease was growing inside me, and it was beginning to piss me off. Alessia and I had put everything into our business, and there was hardly any aspect of our lives we didn’t share. Which was exactly what I coveted, but it came with all these risks. Never had I had so much to lose.

  It was only a matter of time before I lost her, then.

  I didn’t know how I was gonna cope with that knowledge.

  I’d done my best to suppress the fear for years already, because I’d been able to play it off as unfounded worries. Now, not a chance. My sister-in-law had given birth early this morning, and Alessia still wasn’t ready to leave the hospital.

  “You know, some of us want to fall in love and make cute babies.”

  I rubbed at my chest as it constricted painfully, and I walked over to the window where Alessia was looking into the nursery.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  I’d been at home to shower while Alessia had stayed behind in case Jack and Isla needed anything. Before I’d left, Isla was gonna try to nurse the newborns again.

  Alessia looked over at me and smiled tiredly, then glanced back at the window. Or, specifically, at the two cribs at the front of the room where Baby Girl Grady and Baby Boy Grady fussed to themselves.

  “No luck yet,” she murmured, gaze fixed on the babies. “It’s normal, though. Sometimes it takes a bit before they take the breast.”

  I nodded as if I knew what she was talking about, and I eyed the cribs. The babies were bundled up and wore little hats, so I couldn’t see much of them now. I’d seen them earlier. I’d even held the boy for about five seconds.

  Babies terrified me, I couldn’t lie.

  They were cute as fuck, but Jesus Christ, no creature on this earth was as breakable.

  At least animals gave birth to little ones that could fend for themselves.

  “And you want a gaggle of those,” I said.

  Alessia let out a soft laugh and elbowed me lightly in the gut.

  I was stoked for my brother. Jack had never been happier, and he and Isla would be great parents. But on a selfish level, this wasn’t a particularly joyous day for me. Every second Alessia spent near the babies, I saw her slipping through my fingers.

  She’d meet someone soon. They’d get married and she would squeeze out a few runts, and I would never see her again. It would start out slow, of course. First, we’d stop living together because her new man would find that weird. Then, she’d miss a few shifts at work. Dates and whatnot. Eventually, she’d hire someone—maybe a hostess or bartender. She’d come to work one day with a rock on her finger, and she would burst with excitement as she announced she was pregnant.

  I wanted to fucking hurl.

  “Oh, look,” she gasped softly.

  I raised a brow at the babies. The boy yawned.

  “So cute,” Alessia whispered. “I know I’m being silly, but I’m just so happy for Isla and Jack.”

  Yeah, everyone was pleased as punch, from grandparents and siblings to friends and even the freaking nurses.

  Aforementioned family members also knew how to go home and catch some rest.

  “Okay, I know it’s time to leave,” she said and made no move whatsoever. “Tomorrow’s gonna be rough.”

  We didn’t have much of a choice. The twins had chosen to arrive on our Monday off, so we hadn’t been able to get the holiday menu sorted for Valentine’s. We were doing it tomorrow instead. Well, part of it. We’d have to postpone the main courses until later this week. I needed more time.

  “I’m gonna check in with the new parents,” I said. “Then we’re outta here, all right?”

  Alessia nodded, probably thrilled to get another few minutes of staring at the babies.

  Yup, I was definitely losing her.

  Fuck.

  I found my brother in the next hall. Isla was asleep in the hospital bed, and Jack was in the uncomfortable chair next to her, checking his phone.

  I knocked lightly on the doorframe, and he glanced up and smiled sleepily.

  “Mom texted and asked if you’d managed to drag Alessia out of here yet.” He kept his voice down and stood up, walking over so we could let Isla sleep. I stepped out into the hall and removed my ball cap. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” I nodded with a dip of my chin. “I talked to Alex and Jamie. We’re doing a Grady Night this weekend at Mom and Dad’s.”

  Jack chuckled quietly and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Been a while since we did one, I suppose.”

  I knew what he was thinking—maybe it was too soon. Alex, the eldest in our bunch, was the same. Jamie and I were the ones insisting. We needed it. I needed it. One night with just family, music, great food, drinks, and a plain old good time.

  “Mom will be there.” I threw that out there. Which meant free babysitting. After a week of no sleep, Isla should jump at it. “She’ll probably lock herself in the nursery all night. You and Isla could use a break by then.”

  Jack snorted softly and shook his head in amusement. “I realize this is difficult for you to comprehend, but we’re actually looking forward to being at home with our children.”

  Fuck yeah, it was difficult to comprehend.

  “I can’t believe you’re a dad.” I pinched my lips together and smirked faintly.

  He smiled back and flicked a glance through the window to Isla’s room. “I’ll talk to Isla,” he murmured. “I’m not so naïve that I don’t believe we’ll be tired.”

  “Fucking exhausted,” I agreed.

  He slid his gaze back to me. “Why the rush, though?”

  I shrugged and scratched my bicep. “We gotta celebrate, don’t we?”

  He drew a deep breath and saw straight through me. He didn’t even bother narrowing his eyes, something he was great at when he sniffed out bullshit. Maybe he was too tired. Or maybe I was so goddamn pathetic in my quest to fill Alessia’s calendar with family shit that it was too easy, too obvious.

  “Are you never going to talk to her?” Jack asked curiously, and I tensed up. “Be honest with me, Adam. You’re seriously going to let her run off with someone she’ll be content with at best.”

  “Don’t.” I clenched my jaw. I’d hidden my feelings for Alessia for longer than I cared to admit, and no one had so much as suspected anything until Isla barged into Jack’s life and assumed Alessia and I were together the very first time she met us. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I told him.

  He hiked his brows. “Oh,
I don’t?”

  I shook my head. “No, you don’t, and I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about her—” I gestured to the room where Isla slept “—and the babies, but it ain’t the same. Alessia is in every part of my life. We live together, we run Coho together—she’s my best friend. She’s my past, my present, and my future. If I lose her, I have nothing.” An invisible noose tightened around my neck, and I hauled in a breath. The mere idea of not having Alessia in my life was fucking crippling. “I won’t risk it,” I stated. “I live and breathe that girl.”

  Something softened in my brother’s gaze. “She might not be your future, though.”

  I didn’t need a reminder.

  “You were never supposed to know,” I told him. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  I already knew I was a coward. The fact that my brother knew was too much for me. It left me too exposed.

  Jack sighed heavily and clasped my shoulder. “Just…pay attention to her. Having known for her for so long, you think you know everything. But people change over time.”

  He didn’t know how much I already took from Alessia. Her time, her attention. He also didn’t know I was already her personal stalker. If we didn’t live together, I’d probably be perched in a tree outside her bedroom window.

  “Next weekend,” I said instead. “Talk to Isla. I want us all together.”

  He nodded and went for the door. “Get some sleep, brother. And think about what I said.”

  It was past midnight when I drove us home. Isla had given birth at a small private hospital, and Alessia used to date one of the doctors. I was pretty sure that was why she’d been allowed to stay past visiting hours. I knew what it was like not to be able to say no to that girl.

  I drummed my fingers absently against the wheel to the country song playing and stopped at a light. The town was dead at this hour on a random Monday, and the weather couldn’t decide if it was gonna give us snow or rain, so we got both.

  “When do you wanna start tomorrow?” Alessia wondered.

  I hummed. I’d already stocked up what she’d need for tomorrow or the day after, and I had everything set up in the restaurant for the menu… “You can sleep in if you want. I’ll probably head down around eight.”

  “You’re gonna need a break, Adam,” she reasoned gently. “You can’t work from eight in the morning to midnight.”

  Well, we had to get this menu sorted if we were gonna do the Valentine’s Day thing. It was only two weeks away.

  How many weeks until she found someone decent on Tinder?

  I was still processing the confirmation that she wanted a traditional family.

  It meant she was making active choices to change what we had. It wasn’t enough for her.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Che cosa?” She asked what was wrong. Her Italian flowed softly and frequently, but thankfully only in short sentences that I’d memorized. It happened mostly when she was tired, upset, or excited.

  A yawn cut off my smile as I thought of her fire. She’d curse up an Italian storm when she was pissed at me sometimes. “Nothing,” I answered eventually and made the last turn. “Tomorrow will be fun. I think I’m gonna try a thicker cut of the bacon.”

  I wanted the chips chewy in the middle with a crispy hot tempura shell.

  “You’ll make magic as always.” She buttered me up perfectly. “Hey, we like this song.”

  I quirked a little grin and pulled into our parking spot behind our building. The concrete wall next to us was lined with black garbage bags full of leaves and branches from when she’d cleared the terrace on the other side.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Alessia asked thoughtfully. “Or am I projecting my weird mood?”

  No, she wasn’t. “I guess so.” I killed the engine but let the radio play. I should’ve brought a jacket. The snow was winning, and the rain had stopped falling. Instead, flurries whirled in the wind. Lolling my head along the headrest, I faced Alessia as she hummed to the song. She was too fucking beautiful, all long dark waves, rich brown eyes, generous curves, and adorable beanies. Today’s beanie was purple, and they always had to match her knitted mittens. “Wanna slow dance in the parking lot with me?” I stole the title of the song, though my question was genuine.

  And it made her smile. “You’re my favorite goofball.”

  I chuckled under my breath and twisted my cap backward. She didn’t think I was for real, huh? “Come on,” I said and opened the door. Then I cranked up the volume, wanting her close to me for a beat. A beat, I could steal.

  “Are you serious?” She grinned and blushed.

  I nodded and got out of the truck, leaving the door open. We only had half the song left, and I didn’t wanna waste it.

  I suppressed a shudder as an icy wind blew past the small lot, and Alessia met me on my side of the truck. I grabbed a mitten-covered hand and pulled her close to me, where she fucking belonged, and I smirked at her fumbling. It was so uniquely her. She was usually all grace, but sometimes… Sometimes she could trip over air and blush and stammer.

  “So, we’re godparents now.” I dipped down and rested my forehead to hers.

  “Yeah.” She exhaled shakily from the cold and smiled ruefully.

  When the singer sang of making the most of what we had, I did my best to tune him out. It hit too close to home.

  She grinned and let out a laugh, her breath misting, when I spun her around. Then I gathered her close again, and she swayed with me.

  Holy fuck, I was gonna become desperate to keep what we had. I could feel it. An urgency crept up my spine, causing my brain to spin lies and plots to steal more from her.

  Alessia made a face with her eyes closed. “I don’t want a stomachache to ruin the moment.”

  Hence my not asking about her weird mood. She’d been emotional today—more so than what today’s occasion called for by her standard—and her period was due any moment. It was probably cramps she felt.

  “I bought Milanos and the right box of tampons this time,” I said.

  Her eyes flashed open, and the bewilderment was written all over her—for about a second until it dawned on her. “I completely forgot—wait. Is it weird that you know my cycle?”

  I grinned and gave her another twirl. “Hazards of living with you, I reckon.”

  Christ. A new song began. It was another slow tune that hit too close to home, and I stole another moment. I didn’t let her go. I would never be ready.

  “You’re too sweet.” She laughed softly and stroked my cheek. “Not many have best friends who will buy them tampons.”

  Eh. I fucked up her grocery lists every damn time she went shopping. I was always texting her shit to add to the list, and it’d made her forget what she needed for herself more than once. It was only fair I made up for it.

  “What kind of Milanos?” she asked curiously.

  I puffed my chest a bit, ready to show off my skills in Alessia trivia. “One orange chocolate and one double milk chocolate for when the cramps are at their worst, one box of raspberry chocolate for when you feel snackish at work—they’re hidden behind the register at the restaurant—and one box of chocolate mint because you want to like them so badly for some reason, but you never really do.”

  She peered up at me and blinked, appearing dazed.

  “Was that a top score or what?” I bumped my forehead to hers.

  “Heh.” She snapped out of it and rested her forehead against my sternum instead. “Yup, definitely a top score.” She shivered violently as I stroked her lower back, and I figured it was time to head upstairs. Even in her fitted winter coat, she froze easily.

  My stolen moment was over.

  Five

  Adam Grady

  I skipped my morning run the next day and headed down to the restaurant as soon as I’d showered and dressed. Alessia was still asleep. I’d woken up in the middle of the night because she’d been rummaging around her bathroom for her painkillers. I’d helped her search,
and I’d found them in the kitchen of all places.

  I switched on the gas and found a playlist, earbuds in, and I had the restaurant all to myself.

  All right, so breakfast was the first dish for this holiday menu. After some prep, especially with the dipping sauces, I got lost in my element. I bobbed my head to the beat of a country rock song and waited for my first batch of biscuits to be ready. Baking wasn’t my specialty, but I’d mastered what I needed to know in order to branch out with burgers. If it could be shaped like a bun, I wanted to know it.

  I was on the fence for this one. Biscuits were heavy. I might end up with an English muffin instead.

  “Goddammit.” I withdrew my hand quickly and used the towel thrown over my shoulder to wipe my knuckles. Oil in the fryer got hot. Lowering the heat, I peered into the fryer and fished out the trial run. “Nope.” Too thin. I’d been right. I needed a thicker cut of the bacon, or the chips would be too crunchy and lose their bacon flavor.

  The chips rested on a paper towel while they cooled, but I wasn’t even gonna try them. Instead, I picked up the knife and went for round two.

  The biscuits were done.

  I pulled them out of the little oven we had under the grill, my stomach tightening with hunger. Fuckin’ hell, garlic butter. That was the answer. I wanted garlic butter drizzled over these beauties. And I wanted them smaller. Smaller than regular sliders. But batch number one would do for breakfast this morning.

  I made quick work of the bacon and rolling the slices in a rub before dipping them in the tempura batter. Then I stuck a finger into the batter and tasted it, changing my mind. This needed beer. I had one I’d been meaning to try, a crisp lager from a local brewery.

  Okay, third batch, then. Now we were talking. The batter had the kick I’d been looking for. I left the biscuits on a hot plate and cracked two eggs over the griddle.

  I’d bought some fantastic chorizo for this, just wide enough for a slice to play the part of the sausage patty.