Page 20 of Go Cook Yourself

We’ve spoken a few times today, and it’s purely professional, but I want to make her like me. “You said party bags? We’ve never done those before.”

Her shoulders relax, and she moves so we’re side by side at the counter. I’m aware of how much shorter she is than me. Again, I remember last week’s thought of lifting her onto my counter.Stop it, Garett. She’s a human, not a sex object.

“Yeah, party bags. I discussed it with Amber. A couple of treats like sprinkles, cupcake mix, and some Halloween bits to go with a flyer about our adult Halloween cookery class. We still have a few spaces to fill, and their parents might see the flyers and book with us.”

“You must be knackered. How late were you up last night making these?” It explains the dark circles under her eyes. I was worried she was talking to her ex. Not that I care. I don’t date colleagues. I don’t date anyone.

She’s tricky to hear because she is shorter, but when I met one of Flora’s friends, I learned that you don’t bend down to talk to shorter people unless you want them to kick you in the nuts. “I’ve no idea. I was baking brownies for Amber, as it’s one of the few things she can stomach now.” She’s too bloody kind and lovely and not a woman who’d want to spend too long chatting tome, but I can’t walk away. She’s like a breath of fresh air for my soul. “And I was doing other stuff.”

“What other stuff?” I shove another piece of gum in my mouth and chew slowly as I recall her hold ups. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Hold on.” She grabs one of the steps we get out for people who want to be a little higher to reach the various areas of the kitchen. She stands on it, and it brings her to my height. “That’s better.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I chew faster. At this height, I could kiss her. As if she’d ever be interested in kissing me, a washed-up grumpy chef.

“In terms of the other stuff… I was wondering if you’d help me with something. I’ve watched some of your videos, and your skills are amazing. I know you said not to talk about it so you don’t lose your grumpy chef reputation, but”—her voice drops to a whisper, forcing me to lean in—“your lasagne was incredible.”

“Yeah?” I grin and blush red. I’m needier than Cookie when he’s told he’s a good dog. “For sure?”

“It was the best thing I’d ever had in my mouth.”

My eyes widen, and my jaw drops.

“Shit, I didn’t mean… Like, I’ve had other things in my mouth and…”

I ready myself to tease her, but one of the children asks a question, and I put on my professional chef face and turn towards her bench while trying to wash my imagination out with soap and water.

I give Ruby one last brief look over my shoulder. Her face is in her hands, and she whispers in agony, “Oh God.”

???

Even though the children have gone and I’m all packed up, I busy myself looking at menus for the next session. Maybe I can flirt a bit more with Ruby and find out what she wants my help with.

“You can go home, Garett. We’re all done,” Kath comments. “I’m about to lock up.”

“I was just checking the menus.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Wicksy replies as Ruby puts her coat on. She has a sparkly gift bag in her hand. “He’s wondering if any of the single mums had left their numbers for him.”

Ruby’s eyebrows shoot up. “Does that happen often?”

“Hold on—” I stutter.

“Most weeks,” Wicksy replies as Ruby cocks her head to stare at me. “There’s at least one or two. There were loads after that hen party we had once.”

“And does he call them?”

“Ask him yourself.”

Ruby shakes her head. “Nah, I don’t need to hear about his conquests.”

“I’m standing right here,” I grumble as Kath pushes us out the door.

“We know,” Ruby cheeks. “With those seductive forearms and that little brown curl that falls on your forehead when you cook. I’ve seen the videos on TikTok.”

I turn and stare at her. “Are you a fan of mine? Were you the one who used to put filthy comments under them?”

Kath locks up, and Wicksy disappears into his car.

---