Page 12 of Go Cook Yourself

Then she turns to me, and I prepare for a sassy comment.

“Maybe another time,” she replies to me before walking away.

My face drops. I need to fix this for the benefit of the cookery school. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

She moves towards the kitchen. I watch her go, making sure I don’t look at that swaying ass.

I push my sleeves back down, and I follow her. Maybe I should ask what brought her to this cookery school in particular or show an interest in her old business.

“Fun shapes? Tell me more. I love fun things.” I curse how awkward I sound, especially when her ears pink further. I slip gum into my mouth and chew slowly as I vow not to make more of a dick of myself. The mint bursts in my mouth, and my jaw works to relish the flavour.

“I bet you do,” she whispers, forcing me to lean closer. The rest of the group focuses on their tasks. Ruby smells of buttercream and passion fruit. It overwhelms my mint, and I breathe her in slowly. “I bet you’d like nothing more than to wrap your lips around one of my breast-shaped cookies and lick the icing off slowly.”

“I like cookies,” I stutter. I want to palm my face, but instead, I lick my lips, imagining her sugary goodness coating my tongue.

She cocks her head to the side. “Shame you’ll never get to taste them. I save my naughty treats for the best kind of people these days, which doesn’t include angry chefs who say cruel things to new colleagues.”

Sweat beads my neck, and I struggle to find a comeback. She wasn’t flirting but getting me back for my behaviour, yet a brief flash of desire heats my skin. The same interest isn’t reflected on her face. Instead, she smirks before striding to another workstation. I’m supposed to be in control of my kitchen, but with beauty, baking skills, and the cheek to bring me to my knees, Ruby’s totally fucked me in seconds.

???

The ladies laugh and jeer the winners as they leave the cookery school.

“Thank you for such a brilliant day,” Betty gushes. I look up, ready to shrug through the praise while secretly letting it fan my chef arrogance, but she’s not looking at me. “I had so much fun, Ruby. I can’t wait to tell everyone. I’ve gained lots of skills.”

“It was my pleasure. It was a great day in the end, and you were an excellent student. I’m sure Chef Garett will be singing your praises for months.”

Ruby looks at me, and I nod, although I’d rather roll my eyes.

“And maybe I’ll see you at Clive’s competition day,” Betty replies, “if you’re not doing your business anymore due to that awful boyfriend of yours.”

I bristle at the mention of Clive, and her brows furrow as she catches my eye. Did she think I did that because of her boyfriend? Yes, I’m attracted to her, but I’d never get involved with anyone I work with, which is what I’d say to Wicksy if I thought he’d listen.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Ruby rushes to correct. “It’s still very raw, but he’s definitely an ex.”

She can’t have said that for my benefit.Get over yourself, Garett.I was someone before, but I’m nobody now. I catch her worrying the edge of her plaster, and her brows furrow again.

I clear my throat noisily, leaving the women to chat before throwing back, “I should redress that once we’ve tidied up.”

There isn’t much to tidy in the kitchen due to Kath’s ninja cleaning skills. The place is pristine. If I ever run a restaurant again, I’m poaching her. Not that she’d leave. She adores it here, and she loves Amber. I should call Amber. I check my phone but quickly pocket it again. I’ve received another message from Clive.

“Okay,” Ruby replies before helping the last of the group out to their cars with their bags. I pick up kitchen equipment beforereturning it to the same place. My gaze drifts towards Ruby’s bum as she leaves the room. She’s like liquid sensuality. The curves of her hips are the perfect size for my hands. But I’m too tall for her. If I wanted to kiss her, I’d have to lift her onto the counter.

I drag a hand down my face and storm around the kitchen. I need to get laid because it shouldn’t take one beautiful baker giving me attitude to turn me into a horndog. Maybe it’s all the tension from the situation with Clive and Cookie. The gold and blue flyer Betty showed me waits on one of the stations. Betty must have left it. I skim the swirly font announcing that Chef Clive’s Best Cotswold Baker competition will be on Christmas Eve.

The winner will gain a spot in Clive’s restaurant under the tutelage of the renowned pasta-making master and the prize of ten thousand pounds.

Bastard.

My fucking restaurant. My pasta recipe. My life.

I scrunch the flyer into a ball and toss it towards the bin. He has no idea what’s in that pasta dish, and he hates that. I slide knives together to sharpen them. The metal-upon-metal sound fills the kitchen as I work them together. I need a plan to get my dog back, but I’m out of options.

An electric surge passes through my back.

“Sorry, did I make you jump?” Ruby asks, her hand lingering on my back.

“No,” I grunt louder than intended. It echoes through the kitchen. I return the knives to their cases.

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