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  “She thinks I’m a himbo.”

  “Almost certainly. And she’s just come out of a relationship. She doesn’t want to throw herself into another one that’s almost certainly doomed to fail. She picked you as a nice transition from loneliness to finding her way back out into the world. When you think about it, she chose well. You’re nice. You’re good in bed. No one will blink if she sleeps with you and goes right back to being perfectly polite because that’s what you do best.”

  “But I don’t want that this time.” It wasn’t fair. Wow, he was thinking like a boy.

  Sean patted his arm. “Then it’s time to man up. You want this woman, you’re going to have to work for her and you’re going to have to be sneaky about it because I think she might get nervous if you come at her head-on.”

  Sneaky. He’d never had to be sneaky with a woman. “I need to find a way to spend time with her. And protect my virtue because I’m feeling a little used this morning. She tried to send me on my way with nothing but coffee. You would think she would have made me a muffin or something.”

  “I think spending time with her is definitely the key, and practicing a little virtue might not hurt.” Sean put his hand on the small book that lay on the kitchen table. “But you also need to figure out what she needs that she won’t talk about. This might be a good start.”

  “I think she was working on this when I showed up.” He pulled the book into his hand and opened it. “Recipes. Wow. I bet these were her grandmother’s. They’re not elevated enough to be her mom’s.”

  He flipped through the pages. He was a snob when it came to food, but there was something undeniably powerful about reading recipes that had been written out in a careful hand. It reminded him that he’d started cooking in his mother’s kitchen, learning to make rice and beans because she’d gotten arthritis at an early age and when it flared up, he wanted to help her.

  That was how he’d fallen in love with cooking. His mother’s love had been in every dish, and when she couldn’t cook anymore, he gave that love back to her.

  Was this how Jules had gotten into cooking?

  “So you know about her mom?” Sean asked.

  “Yeah, Linc recognized her,” he admitted, glancing at the notes she’d made. There were sticky notes on several of the recipes. Some of the notes made changes in ingredients while others shifted instructions, as though trying to make the recipe easier to cook somehow. “Any idea why she doesn’t talk to her mom anymore? I asked her about her prosthetic. She’s got a low-end model. She said it was all she could afford. Why wouldn’t her mom help her out?”

  “I get the feeling those are two stubborn women.” Sean moved over so he could see the recipes, too. “I think she’s trying to figure out how to make these dishes with one hand. The notes she’s making are all about simplifying the steps.”

  “It’s fine to simplify the steps, but she doesn’t need to use pre-chopped onions. She can chop onions,” Javier said. “She just needs practice.”

  “Says the man with two hands.”

  His brain was already working. He wanted her. He needed to figure out how to get her to take him seriously. Maybe Chef was right and he was going about this all wrong. He’d been looking at their differences, but they had a lot in common, too.

  He’d been in the military. She’d been in the military. They both loved to cook. She’d lost the ability when she’d lost her hand, but she seemed to be trying to get back into it.

  “I don’t have to use them both.” His mind was working. “I might have a plan, but it’s going to require you to back me up.”

  “I got you,” Sean promised. “If you really care about her, that is. If this is some kind of wounded masculine pride thing, reconsider. She’s been through a lot.”

  “Which is precisely why she deserves the best.” Now that he thought about it, this was better. She deserved to be pursued. If she just fell into his hands, he would never learn how to properly handle her. She wanted to run and hide? He could chase and find.

  And the book in his hand might be exactly what he needed.

  “Now let’s go over the menu. I want to get home and spend the afternoon with my wife.”

  “Sure thing. Let me print it out,” Javier said. “Come over to my place because I had some notes on the barbecue. And the special menu for the party coming up. How the hell did that happen anyway? I thought open mic night was a bust.”

  “That was when we let amateurs sing.” Sean shook his head as he followed Javier out to the hall. “I thought it would be a good way to show off some of Dallas’s untapped talent. Instead I got Jake singing “Babe” by Styx to Serena after four beers. The only good thing to come out of it was Ian taped the whole thing and now he plays it as the opening to every monthly conference. After that I shut it down, but it turns out Wade knows someone who knows an actual up-and-coming singer. I offered up the restaurant as a place she can kind of ease into. I think they like singers at her level to work the kinks out in smaller venues before they go to the larger ones. She’s good. I listened to her album.”

  Javier locked the door behind him.

  “Shouldn’t you have put on your shirt?” Chef gave him his infamous judgey eye.

  That’s what Javier called it. Sean Taggart was excellent at conveying his disdain with that one brow. But in this case, it was all part of the plan. “I’m leaving it behind. I want to see if she brings it back to me or if she keeps it and sleeps in it.”

  Either way, he would have some information.

  “See, now you’re getting sneaky.” There was approval in Sean’s voice.

  He meant to get much sneakier. She thought she could steal one night from him? She would find out exactly how different she was.

  He strode to his apartment, getting his keys out of his pocket. He would get the assignments done and then maybe start to think about how to get his plan rolling.

  “Javi, back up,” Chef said suddenly.

  That was when he realized he’d been reaching for the door, but it was already open, the handle slightly off from the frame.

  “I locked it when I left.” He glanced at Sean and felt his jaw drop. “Where did that come from?”

  Chef was carrying a semiautomatic in his hand. “You feel comfortable without pants. I don’t feel comfortable without a gun. Call Derek Brighton. Unless you left your phone behind, too.”

  His cell was in his pocket. It was good to know if a bunch of bad guys ever invaded Top, the executive chef remembered how to defend himself. Sean kicked the door open and stepped inside, every movement predatory.

  Luckily, he had Derek Brighton’s number programmed into his phone. Lieutenant Brighton was a friend of the Taggarts and the go-to guy on the DPD when they needed some law enforcement.

  Sean stepped back out. “You must have pissed someone off mightily. It’s safe to go in but try not to touch anything. I’ll talk to Derek.”

  He passed the phone to Sean and walked through the door. Someone had trashed the place. It looked like every piece of furniture he owned had been overturned and left there like a used and discarded toy.

  What the hell? Who would want to hurt him like this?

  “Brighton’s on his way. He’ll see what we can get from security cameras. You have insurance?” The gun seemed to have disappeared and Javier wondered where the holster was.

  He felt sick to his stomach. Chaos. It was pure chaos.

  “Yeah. I’ll find the policy. I’ve got it in a safe Dec installed for me.”

  “You want me to call Ian? He can have someone out here in under an hour,” Sean promised.

  “Nah. I would bet it was some punk kids who took advantage of the storm.” He winced. “Which likely knocked out the security cameras. Damn, I wonder how many of us got hit last night.”

  He breathed a little easier because that made sense. This was the city. Things got stolen. People took advantage.

  “Let’s try to knock this out while we’re waiting for Derek. You’ll still
need a police report. How do you feel about ceviche?” Chef pulled the couch back into its proper position.

  At least the assholes hadn’t taken a knife to it. It looked like they’d come in and turned everything over looking for cash or valuables.

  It wasn’t personal.

  But his ceviche was. “I feel good about it, boss.”

  He would clean the place up and then start in on his plan.

  Because he was getting the girl this time. He would make sure of it.

  * * * *

  “So you started an affair last night? With a coworker?” Kai Ferguson studied her, looking over his glasses, his notebook in hand. “How did that make you feel?”

  How had she felt when Javier had kissed her? When he’d smiled that crazy sexy smile of his and touched her like he couldn’t stop? How had she felt when she’d put her head on his chest, utterly exhausted, and slept despite the ferocity of the storm outside?

  “I feel good about it,” she replied. She wasn’t sure why she’d told her therapist about Javier. Kai had a way of getting people to open up around him. It was probably why he’d gone into shrinkdom. But she had to clear up a few misconceptions. “But it’s not an affair. It was just a one-night thing.”

  “Ah,” Kai said. “So it just happened organically? Or you talked about it?”

  “There wasn’t a lot of talking involved, Doc.” Just a lot of righteously amazing sex and then she’d slept like a baby. No bad dreams. No waking up and reaching out with her left hand for the bottle of water she kept on the side table because just for a second she forgot. She’d slept with her head on his chest and it had been hard to leave him there.

  She’d thought about kissing him awake and seeing if he maybe wanted her to cook some breakfast for them.

  Then she’d remembered that he was a chef. Not just any chef. He was the sous chef to a man who would likely have a Michelin star under his belt if he worked in New York. Javier Leones was going places. One day he’d open a third Top or he’d go off on his own. As gorgeous as he was, he might get his own TV show like her mom, and then she’d be right back where she’d started.

  And all she could really offer him was some toast. Which he would have to butter himself.

  She’d rolled out of bed as cautiously as she could, not wanting to wake him.

  “How do you know what your partner wants if you don’t talk to him?” Kai asked. “I think it’s a mistake to go into any kind of a relationship without some sort of negotiation.”

  “I’m pretty sure he wanted sex.” She’d opened the door. She might as well walk through it. In the months since she’d moved to Dallas, she’d come to find these sessions with Kai soothing. It was good to talk, and she didn’t have to worry about him blabbing to anyone else. She’d found herself opening up more and more to the good doc and using these sessions as a way to make decisions. Well, she definitely had a decision to make and it would be better with Kai’s input. “This is Javier we’re talking about.”

  “Oh.” A knowing grin crossed Kai’s face. “I thought we were talking about someone else.”

  “Who?” She was curious.

  He shrugged a little. “I don’t know. One of the line chefs perhaps. Someone you have more in common with.”

  “I have lots in common with Javier. He’s pretty chill and easy to talk to. We both come from military backgrounds. He’s dealing with a brother who’s going through the transition of losing a couple of limbs.”

  “You both grew up working in kitchens,” Kai said quietly. “I happen to know that all of his teenage jobs were in kitchens. When his family got in trouble, he lied about his age and got a job washing dishes. He was fourteen. He managed school and working until almost midnight five nights a week. You worked for your mom in the beginning, didn’t you?”

  It was always hard to think about her mom. Especially those early years when they’d only had each other. “I helped her can her jams and jellies. I would come home from school and she would be exhausted so I would do what I could to give her a break.”

  “Yes, I can see you do have a lot in common with Javier.” It was said with a small note of satisfaction, as though she’d fallen into a well-planned trap and he’d known all along who they’d been talking about.

  “Should you be talking about Javier to me? About his private stuff?” It made her nervous that Kai wasn’t as careful as she thought he would be.

  “Javier isn’t a patient. He’s a friend and he’s not quiet about his past. I’m not telling you anything he wouldn’t tell you if you’d taken the time to talk to him.”

  She didn’t like how that sounded. “I’ve talked to him. We work together. It’s not like I invited some random dude into bed with me.”

  Kai held a hand up. “I’m not judging you, Jules. I’m happy you’ve taken a step to get back into life. You’ve told me how you feel like time stopped and you’re not moving forward.”

  She felt like she was trapped, like she was stuck in a river and it rushed all around her, but she was immovable. Caught in one place while the world rushed by her. “Yeah. I still feel like that sometimes. I’m trying to adapt.”

  “Are you?”

  Was he high? “Yeah. I think getting back out in the world and getting a job and trying to move on is kind of the definition of adaptation.”

  He was quiet for a moment. That was when she always felt the most awkward. “What was your dream? Before the accident?”

  She went silent, wishing she hadn’t mentioned anything at all. He’d made her comfortable all these weeks and now she was paying the price. They’d talked about the past, a bit about her plans for the future, but this was starting to feel heavy.

  Still, she’d promised herself when she started this that she would attempt to make a go of it. She wasn’t sure she believed that therapy could make her a better person, but so far it hadn’t hurt her either. “I don’t know.”

  “What was your dream when you were a kid?” he asked.

  “The usual. I went through a marine biology phase. I liked dolphins. I wanted to be an astronaut for a while.”

  “There wasn’t any one thing you were truly interested in?”

  She shrugged. “I liked to cook. I was kind of around it a lot.”

  “Yes, I can imagine with your mother’s business. Did she teach you?”

  “In the beginning,” Jules said cautiously. “When my dad was around, she was a housewife and I was the only kid. She taught me how to bake and I would hang out with her when she made dinner. She told me food was the way to a man’s heart. Guess my dad didn’t have a heart.”

  “How old were you when he divorced your mom?”

  “I was eight. And it wasn’t like other divorces I saw. There was no shuffling me around and fighting over who got what time with me. My dad full on left and didn’t look back. He got his divorce and didn’t want any custody. He moved to Montana with his secretary. I think they’ve got a couple of kids now, but I’ve never met them.”

  “That kind of desertion can be hard on a kid.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “Hard on your mom, too,” he said quietly. “Tell me something—did you plan on staying in the military? Were you going to make a career out of it? I would think given your mother’s success that you might have followed in her footsteps.”

  Those footsteps had been big and impossible to fill. She hadn’t even wanted to try. That lifestyle wasn’t for her. She’d hated the cameras and the scrutiny and always having to look perfect. “I went into the Navy because I needed something different. Do you know what it’s like to go from working hard every day and having nothing to being mommy’s pampered princess?”

  “Sounds like a First World problem to me.”

  He had a point. “It wasn’t that I hated finally having money. I liked that my mom wasn’t worried about losing the house. But what I couldn’t make her understand was that it was her accomplishment. Not mine. I hated all the crap that went with her job. Producers, p
ublicists. It was too much and it made me feel empty. Hell, she doesn’t even do her own cooking anymore. She’s got test kitchens.”

  I don’t want you in there, baby girl. I want you with me. Running the business is where you make the money. We’re never going to be in a position again where we have to cook for a living.

  But that had been exactly what Jules had wanted to do.

  Kai sat up. “Yes, I’d heard that’s how some of those big machines work. I know your mother is a woman, but her business runs like a well-oiled machine. If you worked with her when you were a kid, why didn’t she give you a place in the business?”

  Yes, her place in the business had been the problem. “She did. She told me I could go to college and get a business degree and she would eventually make me the CEO of the company.”

  “That’s an impressive offer.”

  “I hate the business side, Doc,” Jules admitted. “She made me go to business meetings as a teenager and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The one job I wanted she told me was beneath me.”

  “The test kitchens,” he surmised. “You wanted to run them.”

  Well, no one said he was stupid. “Yeah. I thought one of us should. I didn’t ask to run them in the beginning. I just wanted to work there. Food is…it’s meaningful.”

  “It certainly is to a chef. Your mother started out as a Southern cook?”

  Jules nodded. “She was a home cook. My grandma taught her, but Mom wanted more. After she sold her jam recipe to a big conglomerate, they made her the face of that division. She was beautiful and charming and she kind of skyrocketed from there.”

  “And left you behind?”

  “Of course not. She took me with her. She wasn’t some monster.”

  Kai’s lips quirked up. “I wasn’t speaking in a literal fashion. I mean she left the little girl who helped her mother make jam behind. She needed a princess for her palace and you weren’t that girl.”

  Wow. That was hitting the nail on the head. How had he seen so much from the little she’d told him? “Yes. You get it. That’s why it was hard and that’s why I left. I met Kevin in my first year of college. I hated every class I went to. I wanted a job. I wanted to cook, but my mother insisted she knew best. She was very controlling. She used that money she made like a weapon. Kevin’s father was the same way. Wanted him to be a lawyer and nothing else would do. So we made the choice.”