Page 86 of Sugarlips
I gently scooted Chloe’s notebook to the side and set the sandwich and the can of seltzer down in front of her. “Here. You need to take a break and eat before your next appointment.”
Chloe smiled up at me and though she looked happy, she also looked exhausted. “Thank you.” She reached up, touching her hand gently to my arm and my own fingers twitched, aching to brush them across her flushed cheek. Instead, I held them firmly at my side.
“Any time.”
“Oh! You’re making paninis now? I’ll take a ham and cheese,” Tanja said, eying Chloe’s sandwich.
“I was actually finishing up my shift,” I said, unable to hide my scowl.
“Great! So, you’re not busy.”
I couldn’t prove it, but I was pretty sure this was her secret/not-so-secret way of getting back at me for suggesting she pay for brunch.
“Here,” Chloe slid her plate across. “Why don’t we split my panini—”
“No.” I covered her hand. Chloeneededto eat. It was her busiest day of the week with these meetings back to back—then with us running The Dump Truck tonight. “I’ll make you your own panini, Tanja.”
Tanja smiled a saccharine grin in my direction. “You’re the best, Liam.”
“Wish I could say the same,” I grumbled under my breath as I turned and stalked back to the kitchen.
That night was mostlybusiness as usual. We opened the truck sometime between 7:30 and 8:00 and things between us were running smoothly. Even if Chloe’s energy was low.
Who could blame her? She was exhausted.
When we had a lull between customers, she ducked to the side and sat down at the small table and chairs we’d added to the truck a few weeks ago.
“Eat up,” I said, handing her a donut. “The sugar will help give you a boost.”
She grinned a lazy smile at me, and I saw in my peripheral as her gaze swept my body in appreciation when she thought I wasn’t looking. I smiled, keeping my eyes cast down toward the mac & cheese balls. “First a panini for lunch. Pizza for dinner. Nowthis? You trying to fatten me up or something?” She objected, but not so much that she didn’t already have a bite of donut in her mouth.
“The pizza was from Nick,” I reminded her. It was his thank you for her work so far at the bar. Revenue was already up for him because of the vouchers we were giving out at the food truck, but in the last week, Chloe had also set him up with online ordering for take-out. That alone had his revenue up another thirty percent, and he wasn’t even doing delivery.
“It’s amazing how few people want to actuallycalla restaurant to place an order anymore,” she said, practically reading my thoughts as she took a second big bite of her donut.
Her groan was sexy as hell, and for a moment, I was jealous of the stupid donut.
“Hot damn,” she said, smacking her hand to the table. “Iforgothow good your donuts are!”
“Youforgot?” I clutched my chest in horror. “How could you forget? It’s your product, too.”
“Yeah, but since I’ve been helping you bake everything, I’ve been so busy, I haven’t been sampling the goods as much.”
I narrowed my eyes, studying Chloe. “Are you okay?” I asked, suddenly serious. Chloe loved junk food. She thrived on it. But in the last few weeks, she’d lost weight; weight that, frankly, I didn’t think she could afford to lose because she was already so thin. Her face, though beautiful as always, looked a tad gaunt without its normal pink flush. And below her eyes, there was a light tint of blue.
She was exhausted.
She was exhausted because she was helping me live out my dreams. “I was thinking… maybe we should hire someone to help back here in the food truck? That way you wouldn’t have to commit to six nights a week slinging donuts while also running a marketing empireandhelping me bake.”
She jerked back as though my words were a slap. “You don’t want me here serving with you?”
I sighed.Dammit.“No, that’s not what I meant. I love working with you, but you’re doing too much.” I knelt in front of her and brushed my thumbs to the dark circles beneath her eyes.
“I’m not doing anything more than what you’re doing. You run Beefcakes and bake and do this in the evenings.”
“Well, maybe it’s too much for me, too.” I shrugged. “Just think about it. We can hire someone to help us bake the donuts and stuff instead, if you enjoy being here in the truck. Hell, maybe even Remy would want the extra hours working for us, too. He could pull double-duty. Some baking for Beefcakes and some for The Dump Truck.”
She smiled, her brows jumping playfully. “Like a double agent… a doubledonutagent!”
