Feel the Heat (Hot In the Kitchen) (25 page)

“Not that I’m complaining,” Marco continued, his voice dripping with sullen incredulity. “You two are great for business.”

Something that sounded like a growl came from Jack’s direction; then she felt his hand splay possessively on her hip. Seemed touching was okay when a woman needed claiming. Men. Cara stuck her head around the corner of the short side of the bar, her judgmental gaze immediately shooting to Jack’s hand. “Where the hell have you been?”

Unsure of her sister’s target, Lili looked at Jack only to find him glaring at Marco, a muscle pumping at the edge of his mouth. Oh, boy. Any moment now, they’d be whipping out the tape measures. Last night’s brief hand inspection told her Jack would win. By far.

“You said you’d help, and you”—Cara pointed a peremptory finger at Jack—“need to be in the kitchen. Now. Laurent is having a Gallic fit over the salsa for the lamb chops.”

“I’d best go,” Jack said. Before Lili had a moment to gather herself, he clamped his hand on her butt and drew her close for a kiss that she couldn’t have said no to even if she wanted to. Fairly safe to say that she didn’t want to.

It lasted mere seconds, an infusion of hot, scorching roughness. His lips cut a path of sweet torture across her jaw until coming to rest at her earlobe.

“Tonight, Lili DeLuca, you and that sweet arse of yours are mine.”

Wow, oh wow. With a gentle squeeze of said sweet arse, he strode toward the kitchen, indulging in a clearly calculated shoulder bump against Marco. Tad gave a low whistle while Cara scowled and flounced off to shout at someone else. Heaven help the first person to cross her path.

At Marco’s grim smile, the line from the Grinch song about termites popped into Lili’s head.

“Nice job. Maybe you’ve managed to throw Kilroy off his game.”

Lili considered her ex and flattened her lips. Jack thought she had a beautiful figure. He said she made him so hard it hurt. He wanted to jump her bones in assorted European capitals.

Marco had called her body “comfortable.”

“Tosser,” Lili muttered.

From behind the bar, Tad’s cough sounded suspiciously like, “Awesome.”

Marco frowned. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” she replied with her most saccharine smile. While she would like nothing more than to stand around telling off her ex for his various dating crimes and misdemeanors, she had better options for channeling the power flooding her veins. It was only a date, but it felt like so much more. A new beginning, a fulfillment of all she had to offer. Tonight, the taping would propel DeLuca’s Ristorante into prosperity and later…later, she would have Jack.

Chapter Sixteen

Showtime!

The restaurant had never looked better, and even if it was on the Cooking Channel’s dime, a full DeLuca’s was about as gratifying a sight as Lili could have wished for. And while she knew Jack was the main attraction, the curious looks she got confirmed that she was a draw in her own right. Two guys had passed her their numbers. One woman had asked if she was bicurious. Maybe there was something to Tad’s theory of Lili as poster woman for curvy gals everywhere. Have the hot guy and eat your cake, too.

Ducking the television camera that seemed to be stuck to her butt like white on rice, she recapped her father’s menu. Veal meatballs followed by his famous gnocchi with brown butter and sage. For
carne
, he offered juicy bistecca, and Lili almost pitied Jack, who was left serving lamb chops to the steak-loving clientele they had lined up for the taping. The coup de grâce was creamy hazelnut gelato and raspberry sorbetti for
dolci
. It was the ideal menu to showcase her father’s cooking.

It might even be enough to win.

Lost in her thoughts, it took a few moments to register Tad calling her over to the bar.

“Take a gander.” He inclined his head in the direction of the water station.

Her gaze alighted on Gina, whose furtive hunch made it clear that customer hydration was the furthest thing from that girl’s mind. Lili turned to Tad and got an eyebrow jump in return. Her thoughts exactly.

Marching over, she tapped Gina’s shoulder and was rewarded with a guilty hop.

“Jeez, Lili, could you not do that?”

Over her cousin’s fuzzy veil of hair, Lili spied a plate of Jack’s lamb chops with rosemary-truffle oil potatoes. “This had better be good.”

Gina blew out her cheeks like a pissed off chipmunk. That’s when Lili noticed the large container of sea salt behind the plate.

“Don’t tell me you’re sabotaging Jack’s dishes!”

She got the distinct impression that Gina would have placed her hand over Lili’s mouth if she thought she could get away with it. “Shut up, would you? It’s only a couple of dishes here and there. Just leveling the playing field.”

“What possessed you to do this?” Lili surveyed the room in a panic, seeking out Gina’s evil conjoined twin, Angela. Her pliable cousin wouldn’t be acting alone.

“It’s no big deal. Marco said it would be better for business if we won.”

“Marco!” Lili gasped. Sweat trickled between her breasts and a cold weight settled in her belly. Grabbing Gina by the shoulders, she pressed down, forcing her stunted cousin even shorter than her five foot two inches. “How many dishes have you ruined?”

Her cousin squirmed, but Lili dug into her flesh, willing her to answer. She was prepared to resort to slaps if necessary. “Two or three. But nothing’s been sent back. Nobody knows.”

“You stupid, stupid girl.” Which sounded ridiculous because Gina was four years older than Lili. “Have you any idea of the position this puts us in with Jack? He could have picked any restaurant and this is how we repay him.”

“Oh. Em. Gee,” Gina drawled. “You’re on Team Jack now because you guys swapped fluids? How about some respect for how we defended you online?”

Lili imagined steam coming out of her own ears. There had to be a better way to make a living. Gina’s piss-poor attitude and sorry dearth of skills had meant she was flying close to the sun for a while now. There was only one possible way to handle this.

“You’re fired.”

Her cousin squeaked in amusement and her hair bobbed in unison with her shoulders. “Good one, Lili.”

“I’m serious. Give me your apron. I’ll take over your station.” She thrust her hand out stiffly, readying for the tremor she could anticipate rolling a tsunami down her arm. “Now.”

Like something out of a children’s book illustration, Gina’s big eyes flew even wider. “I…I can’t believe you’re taking Jack’s side against the family. I was going to ask you to be my maid of honor!”

Aw, that was so sweet, and it would be so much fun to see the look on Angela’s face…
Stand your ground. Do not let her play you.
“I don’t want you anywhere near food or the customers.” When Gina still didn’t make a move, Lili added, “Don’t make me get Dad out here.”

At the mention of Lili’s father, her cousin’s face collapsed. With her parents passed on, Gina’s closest male relatives were her brother, Tad, and her uncle, Tony. The foolish girl might think she was doing the family a favor, but the mere mention of its patriarch was enough to shake loose the realization that she had screwed up. Spectacularly.

Slowly, she handed the apron over. “Everyone’s been served their entrées. Desserts should be up in ten.”

Feeling wobbly, Lili donned the apron and tried not to melt at the sight of her cousin’s rapidly welling eyes. For the love of Frank, the bitch knew Lili was a sucker for the waterworks.

“I’m sorry, Lili. Honest to God.” Her voice broke on
honest
, which Lili reluctantly admitted was a nice touch.

“Me too. Just get your stuff and go home.”

Gina pumped out another glossy-eyed stare, blinked a couple of times, and trudged off.

Lili returned to the bar and gave Tad the scoop. Thankfully, he took her side, though she wouldn’t have blamed him for trying to throw a good word in for his sister.

“You know what you have to do, right?” he asked, his expression troubled.

Her head felt too heavy for her neck. How she wished the night was long over and she was safely wrapped in Jack’s arms, but after what had transpired, she couldn’t stay silent. The taping might grind to a standstill, her family’s reputation might be shot to hell, but if she kept this from Jack and her father, it would be so much worse.

“Well, it was nice while it lasted,” she said miserably, her limbs as limp as noodles. The firing squad awaited.

Then she spotted a woman barreling toward her on her way to the restroom. Model tall with long, blond, I’ve-just-been-ravished hair, she wore the kind of casually put together outfit that took hours of effort and cost hundreds of dollars. However, it wasn’t her stunning looks or fashionable threads that immediately struck Lili, but her ground-eating stride once she hit a clear path. Even with giant sunglasses obscuring half her face, she radiated self-possession.

The woman bumped against a chair at the bar, and the huge caramel-hued hobo slung over her shoulder plopped to the floor, spilling its contents.

“Let me help you with that.” Lili squatted to pick up the detritus—a phone, makeup, tissues, an airline baggage receipt—and took note of Blond Sunnies’ shaking hands. Not so cool, then.

“Are you okay?” Lili asked, taken off guard by the woman’s familiarity. Those cheekbones, that chin…

Ignoring Lili’s question, she grasped her leather goods possessively and lurched off.

“Be still my beating dick. Who’s that?” Tad asked, his keen gaze following his next ex-girlfriend.

They watched as those long stems took her past the restrooms on a collision course with the kitchen. Lili locked eyes with her cousin. They both took off in hot pursuit.

*  *  *

The night was turning into a complete and utter cluster fuck. Dishes that had left the kitchen perfect returned destroyed. Jack had bungled two servings of risotto and the salsa verde for the lamb chops tasted like vinegar. He preferred to blame the minute space for the less-than-stellar performance instead of the fact that Laurent was just helping the show as a one-off and the usually-in-total-sync chefs hadn’t actually cooked together in over a year. They had no communication. No rhythm. Nothing.

But none of it mattered because tonight, dessert would take the form of a hot, curvaceous woman. Just the thought made him jittery with need and carved out a big, foolish smile on his face. Next stop, Half-Wit City.

“Hullo, Jack.”

His meat tongs slipped from his grip and clanged to the floor, vibrating like a tuning fork through his bones. He blinked a couple of times, as though that might work to sharpen his muddled hearing. On any other day, Jack might have thought he was dreaming, but this was just the glacé cherry on top of the turd that was tonight’s dinner service.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he shouted at his sister.

Juliet propped her sunglasses up on her head and dumped her purse on the counter like she was planning to stay awhile. An entourage of sorts materialized behind her. Concern sketched on Lili’s face, amused interest on Tad’s.

Everyone had frozen upon hearing Jack’s roar, but started up again like a wonky carousel when Tony commanded them to get back to work. Even Laurent obeyed. Jack threw down a towel and marched over to Jules. The same aquiline nose, the same cheekbones, the same green eyes. The only difference was she was as blond as he was dark. Her likeness to their mother struck him like a baseball bat to the gut.

Taking her arm, he steered her away from the alley and out of the servers’ path. “Jules, I told you I’d be in London tomorrow.”

“This couldn’t wait.” Her voice was graveled like she had just woken up.

His grip slackened as concern replaced his surprise. “Are you all right? How did you even know where I was?”

“It’s not hard to find out. Your fans report your whereabouts constantly.” She combed through her hair, knocking her glasses to the ground. “Oh, God,” she muttered, her eyes glowing with incipient tears.

Alarm rocked him with the realization that something was seriously not right. “Jules, love, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“I’ve messed up,” she said on a strangled sob.

A preternatural awareness told him the next words out of her mouth would be the last ones he wanted to hear.
Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.

“I’m pregnant.” Her words escaped in a gush, stilling the air around them.

Jesus H. Macy. He had known something was amiss when he spoke with her on the phone yesterday, and now he felt like that baseball bat had stopped by for another round of shit-kicking. More roughly than he intended, he walked her back to the office and deposited her in one of the swivel chairs.

“How did this happen?”

“Well, insert Tab A into Slot B—”

“Don’t even. Who did this to you?”

She barked out a hysterical laugh. “No one did it to me. I screwed up all by myself.”

Oh, great. An immaculate conception. “What do Daisy and Pete have to say?” Her aunt and uncle might not be the most devoted guardians, but they were all she’d known since his stepfather died when she was five years old and Jack was fifteen. While content to take in the angelic blond offspring of her dead brother, Daisy had been less receptive to his stepson, or “the bastard son of that Irish slag,” as she’d referred to Jack when she thought he was out of earshot. Over the next three years until he left for Paris, he spent more nights on friends’ sofas than under Daisy’s roof, though they’d all become great friends once Jack’s financial contributions to his sister’s upkeep tipped the scales. His first lesson in the purchase of affection.