Feel the Heat (Hot In the Kitchen) (16 page)

His head shot up so fast he almost got whiplash. “You handle the deliveries?” Most chefs or their sous took care of that. He had a team of people who took care of it.

“Dad’s first mate, Emilio, lives in the suburbs, so it’s difficult for him to make it in that early. We used to split it when I lived at home, but since I moved to the apartment upstairs a couple of months ago, I do it.” There was a noticeable bite in her tone. The bonds of familial obligation had to chafe sometime.

“What else do you do?”

“Scheduling, payroll, ordering, the books.” She smiled. “The usual.”

Despite the brevity of their acquaintance, he recognized a forced smile when he saw one. “That’s a lot for one person.” All this and caring for her mother. Admiration got all mixed up with his libido, which was pretty much how one defined a crush.

“We all help out. It’s a family operation.”

Topic of conversation over. Time to try Door Number Two. “So you’re too busy to date, or maybe you’re just too busy to date me.”

She tilted her head and gave him that look, the one that could cut him down at fifty paces.

“Tell me about the last date you went on,” he said, praying it wasn’t with that moron, Marco.

“The last date I had.” She shook her head, then straightened, girding herself for…he didn’t know what. “You want to hear about my dating adventures?”

“Only if they’re entertaining. And, of course, embarrassing.”

“Oh, I can guarantee that. How about the guy who collapsed in tears when the appetizers came out? The shrimp cocktail reminded him of his ex.”

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

“Then there was the one whose Bentley broke down on Lake Shore Drive on our way to dinner. He asked if I could help change the tire. While he sat in the car, texting. In January.”

His hand curled into a fist on his thigh, but he forced humor into his tone. “So you bring useful skills to a date. Good to know.”

She laughed, the sound more heartbreaking than amused.

“What did you see in not-so-super-Mario?” It spilled out quicker than it took for the thought to form.

“His name’s Marco.”

“Whatever.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to ignore him, but as before, she had evidently decided that humoring him was the best strategy to handle the idiocy.

“It didn’t last long,” she said, which came nowhere close to answering the question, or perhaps it did. A couple of bright spots lit high on her cheekbones. “I was at a point where I needed something, someone, to take my mind off things. It was never supposed to be serious.”

“But…”

“Yeah.” She raised those drown-in-me eyes to meet his. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t usually fall for a guy like that. Mr. Smooth.”

Under normal circumstances.
But her mother had been ill and Lili had been what? Looking to lose herself in the arms of some guy? Is that what she’d wanted from him last night? Some measure of sexual oblivion? The comparison may have been unintentional, but it hit him like a cricket bat to the kidneys. There was no way in hell he was like Marco or any of these cabbage heads she’d dated. Idiots who wouldn’t appreciate a beautiful, funny, and sexy-as-all-get-out woman like Lili if she danced a cancan on DeLuca’s bar.

What he wouldn’t give to show Lili his appreciation. Touching her until she moaned like she had when she tasted his food. Discovering those spots on her body that drove her crazy. Making her beg him to plunge inside her and take her someplace she hadn’t even known existed until she’d met him. Jesus, he wanted to shag her senseless, and then hold her so she wouldn’t feel so lost.

So, that had taken what…five minutes to get back to sex?

Kudos, Kilroy.

He’d known this woman for less than thirty-six hours. A thoroughly pleasurable thirty-six hours colored by a brain injury, a rather girly faint, and a hospital visit. The bad publicity, the contract, the upcoming taping, how burned out and dog-tired he felt, it could all go to hell because with her, food tasted better and he wanted to grasp it and hold on for dear life.

They stared at each other for a long, expectant moment. Suddenly, this no-sex kick was shaping up to be the most ridiculous idea he’d ever had. His dick was never meant to be as useless as a white crayon. It was meant for pleasure. It was meant to pleasure her.

Her eyes darkened, like the pupils had swallowed all the blue. “You look weird again. Is it your head? Do you need your pain meds?”

Would the meds help the ache in his jeans, now building to an unbearable level? His hands twitched, ready to slide around her, under her, inside her.

“Are you still in love with Marco?” he bit out, surprised at his own sharpness.

She looked flummoxed. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Or relevant.”

“It is my business but you’re right, it’s not relevant. A little time with me, you’ll forget about him.”

An amused smile curved her lips. “I’ve already explained why dating wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Because we live in different cities? We can figure that out.”

She rolled her eyes, but she did it patiently. He liked that. “Well, that problem has been superseded by a shit storm I’d rather not deal with.”

“I told you it’ll all die down, and everyone thinks we’re together anyway. Why not give us a chance?”

“Clearly you’re not used to taking no for an answer.”

“Can’t say I am. It’s one of my most endearing qualities.”

“Sounds annoying for everyone else.”

The heavy clop of footsteps echoed behind them. Torn between irritation at the interruption and gratitude he was putting an end to the desperation portion of the proceedings, he looked up to find Lili’s cousin, Tad, swaggering in from the kitchen.

“What’s up, kiddos?” He placed a motorcycle helmet on the table and made a move on the focaccia.

Lili swatted at his hand. “Hey, try asking first.”

He scoffed and snatched the largest piece in the basket. A single bite transformed his face into something close to an epileptic fit. Yeah, it was that good. Once recovered, he divided a look between Jack and Lili. “How goes it?”

A slow, knowing smile lifted Lili’s face. “Could be worse.”

“Well, not to worry,
la famiglia’s
on the case.”

“No, no, no,” Lili said, her smile evaporating as her hands white-knuckled the table’s edge. “You are not to get involved in this.”

“Too late. Gina’s already mobilizing the troops on Facebook and Twitter. And if you want any input on the T-shirt design, you should get on the horn.”

Lili pulled herself up. “I’d better call her.” She lingered, her gaze locked on her cousin, sending wordless messages that only family this close could comprehend.

Irrational jealousy ripped through Jack as Tad enveloped Lili and whispered in her ear. It should be Jack’s job to comfort her, and not just because he was to blame for her current predicament. With a deep exhale, she drew back, splaying her fingers on Tad’s chest.

“Be nice,” she said quietly.

Tad’s face split into a grin. “When am I ever anything else?”

As she swiveled to saunter off, Jack urged himself not to look.
Ah, to hell with that.
He drank in that va-va-voom body with more curves than a winding Italian road, only stopping when Tad plunked down in the booth and leveled Jack with a stare of steel similar to Tony’s storm front last night.

Busted.

“Don’t hold back,” Jack said.

Tad gave a press-on smile, but it made no impression on those flinty eyes. “She knew what she was doing. At the top of my list is the fucker who put up that video.”

Jack nodded grimly. “You and me both.”

“But that doesn’t mean I think you’re completely blameless. There’s some rumor going round the Interweb that you’ve got a new show in the hopper.”

“And?”

“And,” Tad dragged out, “after all that Hollyweird shit with your skanky soap opera chick, advertisers might be more open to a guy with a regular girl from the hood, complete with a nice TV-friendly family.” His mouth curled into a sneer. “Not that we’re especially friendly.”

Is that what people thought? More importantly, is that what Lili thought? Evie hadn’t wasted a second. “That’s a rather cynical viewpoint, and that video doesn’t exactly fit the wholesome image so beloved of advertisers.” He adjusted in the booth, the memory of her hand between his legs sending all his blood rushing hellward. Nope, nothing wholesome about that.

Tad smirked. “Maybe. But it’s not going to do you any harm, is it? As long as we’re clear, if I see you gaining an advantage at Lili’s expense, you’ll be moving to the top of my list. She’s too good a person for that.”

“I would never hurt her.” Jesus, all he wanted to do was protect her from all that. Keep her safe from every hater with a camera or a keyboard. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He strummed the table and added, “I like her.”

A slow burn of a smile animated Tad’s face, and Jack immediately wanted to bite back his admission.

“Okay,” Tad said, a million things hinted in that single word, all of them annoying as fuck.

They were bonding. Cute.

“Anyway, I’m not the DeLuca you should be worried about.”

Jack knew it was coming and he almost welcomed the gut check. He needed to be brought down from this cloud he’d been floating on for the last day and a half.

Tad’s grin turned to pity. “You might want to dust off your crotch armor because Tony’s going to have your nads in a vise before the day is over.”

Chapter Ten

Standing on the threshold of the DeLuca’s brownstone in Andersonville on Chicago’s north side, Jack immediately knew the pain of every randy teenage boy who had dared to take a DeLuca girl on a date. Tony loomed in the hallway doing his best Don Corleone. Hands clenched. Feet planted like sequoias. Mouth a gray slash. Lili fidgeted behind her father, looking like she wanted the hardwood floors to split at their seams and drag her to the earth’s molten core.

“Jack, this is my mother, Francesca,” Cara said. He took the hand of a beautiful, frail woman with elfin features and cropped blond hair. Sucking in a bolstering breath, Jack embarked on the grovel to end all grovels.

“Tony, Francesca, I’m so sorry about what happened last night.”
But your daughter got me so riled up I had no choice.

The muscles in Tony’s face scrunched, mirroring the imminently dangerous situation with his fists. Francesca placed a hand on her husband’s arm. No one spoke, so Jack did what he usually did when faced with adversity—tried to talk his way out of it.

“Your daughter’s a lovely woman.”
And I want her so much it hurts.

Lili’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently.

“My behavior was unforgivable.”
But I don’t regret a single moment.

An imperceptible nod from Lili. Better.

“Jack, it is okay,” Francesca said warmly. “You cannot be blamed for the kind of society we live in.” She mashed her lips together in disapproval of the ravenous media and their appetite for the slightest scandal. Jack would have kissed her if he wasn’t so worried about getting decked flat by her husband.

Tony wouldn’t be so easily swayed, but after his wife squeezed his arm once more, the older man clasped Jack’s hand. A reluctant détente, but he’d take it. Jack huffed out a breath and caught Lili’s equally relieved expression.

“Well, thank God,” Cara said cheerily. “I think we could all do with a drink.”

Amen to that.

Dinner was served around a large communal table in the backyard, which was roughly landscaped in a style reminiscent of the gardens of an Italian villa. The aroma of lavender and basil from the herb garden scented the air. Terra-cotta planters, paving stones, and trees strung with twinkling lights all combined to create a little corner of Tuscany in the middle of the city. It was like something out of a fairy tale, complete with a modern-day Cinderella. Lili served and cleared, usually under Tony’s barked instructions
en Italiano.

It didn’t take long for Jack to intuit that, while Tony was the consummate host, he wasn’t about to give away any of his kitchen secrets.

“So what’s in store for me tomorrow, Tony?”

Tony swirled his wineglass, watching as the legs of the Brunello Jack had brought dribbled dark rivulets down the sides. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

And I’m the Queen of England.
Jack had seen enough of the Italian maestro’s management style on his brief tour of the DeLuca kitchen to know he had his contest menu prepared, right down to how many leaves of basil he would use to garnish the pasta. Even tonight’s simple meal of bruschetta, veal parmigiana, and homemade linguine was perfect. More sabre-rattling. Now the man had the family honor as an extra incentive to nail Jack’s arse to the wall.

For the rest of the meal, Jack underwent a barrage of questions from Tony’s scary sister-in-law, Sylvia, and her towering bouffant. She had seen every one of his shows and grilled him like the head chef at Le Cordon Bleu would an unprepared student.

“In the episode where you killed that squid on the boat, it looked like a different squid in the next shot,” Sylvia said, scarcely able to disguise her disgust at the deceptive practices of the editors.