Page 23 of The Ex-cavenger Hunt

The industrial kitchen is a hive of activity, with chefs and sous chefs bustling about, their faces flushed with the heat of the stoves and the intensity of their focus. The air is thick with the clatter of pots and pans, the sizzle of meat on the grill, and the sharp aroma of herbs and spices. In the midst of it all stands Marco, his presence commanding and magnetic.

He’s still just as attractive as he was before—chiseled features and a mischievous glint in his eye. His dark hair is perfectly tousled, and his chef’s jacket fits him like a second skin, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist.

“Welcome,” he greets us with a flourish that seems tailored for the stage rather than the kitchen, his voice rich and smooth like velvet. “I’m thrilled to have you join us on this gastronomic adventure.”

Adventure?

“Umm, I was more like wanting to talk to you today,” I say, my voice trembling slightly as the hostess hands Ethan and me aprons and nets for our hair.

“Well, you chose a teaching day,” Marco says, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he takes in our bewildered expressions. “You’re going to have to be part of the class while we talk, yes?”

I glance at Ethan, my eyes wide with uncertainty. He shrugs, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “I think it’ll be fun. You ready for this?” he asks, his voice low and sneaky.

“Only if you are,” I reply, my heart hammering in my chest as I try to muster up some semblance of confidence.

“What can go wrong? I could burn something but it’s not my kitchen so it’s all okay, right?” Ethan grins, and that grin . . . I’m getting used to it and starting to love it too. I feel a rush of warmth spread through my chest, chasing away some of the butterflies in my stomach.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Stop, I order myself, my inner voice firm and unyielding. He’s just a guy who’s helping you with the ex-quest and not someone you can crush on. For fuck’s sake, he’s your freaking . . . Is it brother-in-law or what will he be to me when his brother marries my sister?

I shake my head, my hair falling into my face as I try to clear my thoughts.

It doesn’t matter, just pull yourself together and stop gawking at Ethan Montgomery. I force my eyes away from him, focusing intently on Marco, as if the secrets of the universe are hidden in whatever nonsense he’s saying.

But as if it’s that easy to ignore the chemistry between us, the electricity that crackles in the air whenever we’re close. Is it really chemistry, or is it just me wanting to see what’s underneath those tight t-shirts that show his taut muscles? I bite my lip, my cheeks flushing at the thought, a wave of guilt and desire warring within me.

I risk a glance at Ethan, my eyes tracing the strong lines of his jaw, the curve of his biceps as he reaches for another ingredient. He catches me looking, and I quickly avert my gaze, my heart hammering in my chest. I can feel his eyes on me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, and I know he’s aware of the effect he has on me.

“You okay over there?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, a hint of concern lacing his words. “You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter for support. “It’s just the heat of the kitchen, you know?” I force a laugh, the sound strained and unconvincing even to my own ears.

Ethan nods, his eyes searching mine for a moment before he turns back to listen to Marco, the moment passing as quickly as it came. I let out a shaky breath, my heart still racing, my skin tingling with a mixture of embarrassment and longing.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself, to push aside the thoughts of Ethan and focus on the task at hand. But even as I do, I can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between us, a line blurred that can never be uncrossed.

Chapter Fourteen

Lily

Okay, I’m totally and perfectly fine. I ignore Ethan and concentrate on Marco.

“Everyone!” Marco’s voice booms across the room, slicing through the hum of excited chatter, his presence commanding and magnetic. “Please, gather around!”

We join the semi-circle forming around Marco at the front of the kitchen. His eyes scan the crowd, piercing and intense, and pause momentarily when they meet mine. There’s a flicker of recognition, a subtle arch of his eyebrow, but he moves on smoothly, not missing a beat. “I’m Chef Marco,” he says with a charismatic smile that could melt butter. “And today, I’ll be guiding you through a culinary experience that will tantalize your taste buds and maybe even challenge your cooking prowess.”

The room erupts in polite applause, and I find myself clapping along, my hands moving of their own accord, caught up in the infectious energy.

“Let’s forget about following recipes to the letter,” Marco continues, gesturing broadly with hands that have undoubtedly mastered every chop, slice, and dice imaginable. His movements are fluid and graceful, like a dance choreographed to the rhythm of the kitchen. “Cooking is about joy, creativity, and . . .” He pauses for effect, his gaze sweeping over us once more, lingering just a moment longer on me, “. . . a little bit of flair.”

“Sounds like my kind of thing,” Ethan whispers, his shoulder brushing against mine in a moment of easy camaraderie, his breath warm on my ear. I suppress a shiver, the heat of his presence is both comforting and electrifying.

“Liar,” I mouth, my eyes narrowing playfully. This man doesn’t move two steps without a plan. His every action is calculated and precise.

But Ethan ignores me and glances at Marco, pretending he’s paying attention to him.

“By the end of this evening,” Marco declares, his voice ringing out like a bell, clear and commanding, “you’ll not only leave here with full stomachs but also with fuller hearts. Cooking, after all, is love made edible.”

Slipping into the crisp white apron, I can’t contain the grin spreading across my face, the fabric smooth and cool against my skin. I tie it snugly around my waist, the knot a promise of the culinary adventure ahead, and spin to face Ethan, who’s already sporting his own apron, looking every bit the part of a seasoned chef despite the uncertainty in his eyes.

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