Page 27 of Go Cook Yourself

“I’ll help you,” I say quietly. I swear she’s holding her breath. “With the competition. I’ll help you. I know what it’s like to need someone to take a chance on you, and I owe your family a lot for gambling on me. So I’ll help you.”

“Are you sure? You need to want to do this without being guilted into it,” she stutters. “You don’t have to do it, and don’t do it because you feel sorry for me or anything.”

I park in my spot, cut the engine, and stare at her. I can feel her excitement bubbling, and I’m getting a buzz at giving her this opportunity. “Yes, completely. Your family have given me a lot, and if it can help raise the profile of the cookery school, too, theneven better. We’ll start next week once Halloween is out of the way.”

She’s not saying anything. Maybe she thinks she’ll owe me or something. She couldn’t even enjoy the lasagne without foisting orgasmic cupcakes on me. “Ruby, is that okay?”

“That’s amazing. I can’t believe it. Thank you so much.” Her hands tremble. “This means everything.”

Oh shit. Is she going to cry? I squeeze my lips into my mouth as she unclicks her seatbelt, reaches over the gear stick, and hugs me. I haven’t had a hug from a beautiful woman in ages, especially not one laden with gratitude rather than a come-on. My heart beats wildly against her, and I breathe in that passion fruit scent that’s still mixed with the buttercream from earlier. Everything about me warms up, especially when she kisses me on my cheek. I hope I’m not blushing. I cough and pull back.

Before I can explain it or justify it, she jumps out of the van and starts dancing what can only be described as the dance of a chicken after drinking too much wine.

I slip out of the van and lean against my vehicle to watch her, unsure if it’s creepier to watch from inside or outside.

“Do you always dance like this when you’re happy?” Her unyielding joy is infectious, and as she grins at me, her eyes twinkling, I already wish I’d agreed we start sooner, because then I would have been around her happiness for longer. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“One of us will.” She waves her hands in the air. “You’re a stern, grumpy chef with a reputation as a badass.”

I chuckle at her excellent review of my persona.

“Promise you won’t ride me too hard.”

Her comment cuts my laugh dead. My eyes jump from my head, and a strangled sound leaves my mouth.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I think you sniffed too much wine at the warehouse,” I counter, trying to force out the images filling my head. “And on that note, I’d best be getting home.”

Her smile is a bit of a wince, and I cuss myself for cutting her happiness short. “And I promise that if I have to ride you, I’ll do it gently and not too hard.”

She mumbles,“That’s a shame,”as she heads back to her car. Shit. I tried to take the heat out of the situation, but her response has more comments teetering on my tongue.

I breathe a sigh of relief as she reverses out of the car park—or, at least, I do until I see her broken light. Great. Now I’ll worry about her safety until the next cooking session. And if I have to buy a light to fix her car before the next cooking session, then so be it. It doesn’t mean anything.

I drive home via Amber’s, searching for Ruby’s car in a ditch or smashed in the road. My heart only returns to average speed when I see it parked in Amber’s driveway.

Deciding to help Ruby with the competition weighs on my mind. I need to discuss the decision with someone, but I haven’t got anyone to share my worries with.

It’s the right decision for all the reasons I said, and no matter what happens with the competition, she can gain skills to help her with a new version of her Naughty Treats company or whatever she wants to do in the future. It will also do wonders for the cookery school and raise their profile. I’ve heard a rumour from Flora that the competition will be streamed.

But then there’s Clive.

Sick fills my throat, and I pull over to the side of the road to stretch my hands out from cramping.

Paramore plays from the van’s speakers as I consider damage limitation. When we get closer to the contest, I can tell Ruby’s family about Clive, and once the competition ends, I can tell Ruby what Clive did. I don’t want to lie to her, but she said sheneeds the money for Amber, and she deserves to give a fuck you to her ex, who treated her like crap. I must keep her safe but let her make this decision, too. Once she has the money, I’ll tell her everything even though I know she’ll look at me like I’m not some great restaurant chef but a guy who fucked up. It will be worth it to keep her safe.

The last bars of “The Only Exception” play as I pull back onto the road.

Decision made. Ruby’s success and happiness will be my priority, and I’ll push down my anxiety, too.

This will end well.

Chapter Sixteen

Garett

I walk into the cookery class an hour early because I want to spend as much time as possible around Ruby. Proximity is dangerous, yet talking to her in the van last week and laughing with her at the classes this week have been the happiest moments I’ve had in months.

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