Page 71 of A Perfect Match
We take one last look at the barn before stepping outside.I slide the big door shut and lock it back up, then hand her the key.
“In case you want to start sweeping later,” I say.
She squeals, clutching the key to her chest.“Thank you, Kru.”She pushes up onto her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my lips.
I wrap an arm around her, bringing her against my body.“It’s my pleasure.I want to help however I can.”
She has stars in her eyes as she beams up at me.Then something clouds her gaze, and she steps away, nibbling on her lip.
“I think this will need to stay our little secret for a while,” she says, running the pad of her thumb over the key.“I still need to figure out a way to tell my brothers I’m taking the plunge on this.They won’t be happy.”
“There’re a few things you don’t want your brothers to know about, huh?”I stuff my hands into my pockets against the stiff breeze as we walk back toward the main building.
She frowns.“If you knew my brothers, you’d understand.”
“Will I ever meet them?”
“Not if I can help it.”
I study the ground, a knot forming in my gut.I don’t like that comment one bit, but I don’t feel like I have any right to object.We haven’t talked aboutus.So I file it away for later.
I wish her a good work day, and we head our separate ways.Inside my office, I bury myself in invoicing and inventory orders.There’s tons to do on a daily basis, so my extra early start won’t be a waste.Eventually Brady comes in, followed by Rafael and the rest.Office work bleeds into prep, and then suddenly we’re open for the day and serving a bustling dining room of customers.It’s easy to click into the groove here, something I’m relishing as the work day melts away beneath us in an easy flow.
Before I know it, it’s four o’clock, and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast.I’m good about making sure the crew takes a break to eat after lunch service, but I don’t usually follow my own guidance.Typical for a working chef.I put together a quick sandwich, pause, and then make a second one.
If I haven’t eaten, I bet Piper hasn’t either.
I head next door with the grilled chicken and ciabatta sandwich I whipped up for her, wrapped in foil.As I step through the back storage room door, I spot her in full Cloud Nine regalia—pink headband, frilly white apron, facing down a small crowd of marshmallow enthusiasts.Four long tables are set up at the back of the shop, three students per table, facing Piper at the front.Everyone has their own pastel pink mixer.I watch for a moment as she gives a demonstration of how to whip the marshmallows to perfection.
“The whipping is where the magic is,” she says brightly, showing the crowd exactly what to do, a huge bowl on the table in front of her.
I lean against the doorframe and watch, transfixed, as she regales her students with tips and advice.I’ve never seen a more beautiful marshmallow maven.They all follow along with their own mixers.As she walks among the tables to inspect the progress of her students, her gaze flicks my way.
I’m happy to note her face lights up when she sees me.I’m sure mine does the same.I hold up the wrapped sandwich and mime eating a sandwich.I point to the table by the backdoor, and then give her a thumbs up.I think she gets what I’m trying to say because she nods effusively and mouthsthank youbefore bending over to check out the progress of one of her marshmallow students.
My heart swells a little as I head back to my side of the building.I like taking care of Piper.And if I’m being honest, I’m crazy about her.Having her close is so nice—not just in the backyard of my rental but here at my side throughout the day.
My head is swirling with thoughts as I head back into my kitchen and snag my own sandwich to wolf down before getting back on the line.I’ve been mulling all day on the rental agreement for the barn.I’d be lying if I said her plans for it weren’t exciting to me.I just don’t like the fact that she’s trying to build this thing up in the shadows.
And if I’m being honest, I don’t like that she wants to keepmein the shadows either.
I’m chewing and stewing in my thoughts, the back of my mind analyzing the cayenne-forward seasoning combination I used on the chicken before I grilled it while the other half of me is wondering what I truly want from Piper.
We’re both busy small-business owners in the midst of expansion.I need to be logical.Ruthless.
I’m mere weeks into the launch of my own brand-new business venture.Why would I get tangled up in this pipe dream of Piper’s too?
Be real, lobster man.You need to focus.
I down the final bite of my sandwich, making a mental note to add more lemon to the homemade mayo next time.I head to the sink to wash my hands, still lost in my thoughts as I scrub.
I know what happens when I get lost in a new relationship.Emphasis on the wordlost.I damn near quit cooking after I got in deep with my ex, Vanessa.I fell too hard, too quickly.The end of our relationship was brewing right when the food truck competition reality TV show came up.She didn’t want me to apply—I applied anyway.When I got accepted, she wasn’t even happy for me.And I damn near turned down the offer to go on the show until my Mom talked some sense into me.Just thinking back to that time in life scares the shit out of me.Going on the TV show carved out the path to my dreams, and my ex had only seen it as a threat.
I’m terrified of being derailed like that.Of casting aside everything I’ve worked for in the name of love.
I tear off a paper towel to dry my hands, scanning the now-bustling kitchen as orders begin to pump through the printer.
It’s not that I think Piper herself is a threat; it’s that anything that is not my business is a threat.I do not have time to get lost right now.Everything about my business requires all of me.All my focus.
