Page 35 of Don't You Want Me, Baby?

13

Things settled into a rhythm again in the days that followed. Sharon was happy that Amber hadn’t fallen back into Bradley’s arms and Amber didn’t miss Sloane one bit. The longer she was away from him, the less she thought about him. Well, other than wondering if voodoo dolls actually worked. She could probably knit a realistic enough looking douchebag to test the theory if she put her mind and her needles to it. Thoughts of murder and maiming aside, he didn’t take up space in her head any more. The feeling of dread and unease she felt when she was with him had disappeared, leaving space for nicer things. Now, she was excited about her own plans again. She was starting to feel like the old Amber again.

When she woke that morning, she felt happy. Settled. She had a day shift to run, and then the night off. For once, she was looking forward to it. She didn’t need a date for the evening; she was just looking forward to life again. The only sticking point being that she couldn’t quite stop thinking about her best friend. Naked. Dressed. Saying those nice things to her. The way he’d folded her into his huge body as if he would gladly shield her from the world with hisbare arms. But that was fine, right? She just needed to shut the little ‘doesn’t want a family’ box in her head. Once she’d managed to shove him into it for good. Still, she had work to do.

Putting her game face on, she headed out of her flat.

Tyler was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Morning, Cherry.’ He grinned, waggling a wad of papers at her.

She lifted a brow.Why does he have to look so good?‘Morning. We’re nowhere near opening time. What are you doing here so early?’

‘Couldn’t sleep.’ He was looking at her like he’d won the lottery.

‘What’s got you so happy?’ Then, she saw her business plan in his hand. ‘What are you doing with that?’

‘Well, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since you showed it to me. I figured you had time to give it another tweak before you had your first meeting with the bank.’ He was like a toddler, vibrating with energy. ‘Come with me.’

Leading her through to the kitchen, she gasped.

‘What the— what did you do, come in at dawn?’

‘Pretty much. I went to the fish market first.’

‘Hebblestone has a fish market that opens at dawn?’

‘Ah, young Padawan, much to learn have you.’ He reached for her, pulling her to the crammed counter. There were dishes on there that looked like they belonged in a Michelin restaurant.

‘Holy pollock, it smells gorgeous in here.’

Tyler was preening like a proud peacock, his laugh huffing out in one amused breath. ‘So, we know that pubs on their own don’t cut it on the viability front these days. I know in your plan, you planned to do the basic pub grub, but I decided that we could do better. Really smash the eatery bullshit out of the water.’

She pushed her lips together. ‘We?’

He shrugged those huge shoulders of his, flashing her an adorable little grin. ‘Yeah. Any decent chef can follow my menu. Imean,’ he bumped his body against hers, ‘it won’t be as good, but I’m amazing.’

She huffed out a laugh. ‘And modest.’

‘You forgot sexy.’ They locked eyes for a moment.I didn’t forget that. That’s half the problem.

‘So.’ She focused her attentions on the dishes, willing her cheeks to stop combusting with heat. ‘What do we have?’

He passed her one of the menu sheets. He’d writtenCherry’son the top. She felt a warm feeling in her stomach, seeing his nickname for her. Ran her fingers along the scrawl, till she saw him watching and dropped her hand.

‘For starters, we have the usual – prawn cocktail, mini appetisers like quiche and salad, fresh-made soups with crusty bread.’ His hand landed on the small of her back, as he moved her along. The box in her mind popped open a little more.Down, girl.‘Mains, we have a fish dish with traditional chunky chips, a kick-ass chilli, and?—’

‘This is amazing,’ Amber cut in. It really was. Every single dish looked like it was perfectly made, riots of colour on each plate. ‘It also makes the Slug’s food look it came from a rat-burger van.’

‘Hey! That’s still my food, cheeky!’

She giggled.

‘You know what I meant. This stuff is great.’ There it was again: that cute little smirk of his. ‘You’re great,’ she blurted out. ‘At this I mean.’

She heard him swallow audibly before he spoke again.

‘So, dig in.’

---