Page 32 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and inhale deeply, but that only brings that incredible scent that’s all Jameson into my lungs. My heart flutters again, the rush of blood filling my ears, and I force my eyes open. “I’m fine.”

His brow furrows. “You don’t look fine. You got really flush then really pale.”

“I’m fine. Really.” I smile at him, trying to ignore how incredible his palm feels pressed to my back. And how his firm chest brushing against mine only makes my heart beat faster. “Really.”

I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince—him or me.

But just as quickly as the little “event” happens, I start to feel the energy rush back, and with it, the reality of how close Jameson really is. And how much I like it.

Nope.

Shaking my head, I push at his chest. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

If he doesn’t stop touching me and back away, I may wrap my arms around his neck, sag straight into him, and let the rivalry between us go to the wayside for a few minutes.

That can’t happen. Not now. Not ever.

Jameson looks like he’s going to fight me or question me again, but instead, he sucks in a deep breath and blows it out slowly before inching back. “Good, then let’s get back to you apologizing to me.”

A laugh bursts from my lips, echoing off all the stainless-steel equipment in the kitchen. “I will apologize to you when Hell freezes over.”

He scowls and leans his hip against the range he wants so badly. “You embarrassed me on live TV.”

I wave my hand back toward the restaurant. “You stole my parking space, intentionally blocked it, and then snatched employees right out from under my nose! What I did was nothing compared to that.”

He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “I didn’t do in front of millions of people.”

I scoff and prop my hands on my hips. “First, it doesn’t matter if you did it in front of people or not. You’ve been screwing me over at every turn. Second, I had no way of knowing you were going to bring the menu onto the show today.”

“Maybe not, but you were willing to let me get them printed and potentially hand them to customers like that.”

I wave him off. “Bullshit. You’re way too big of a perfectionist not to check them over a thousand times before you open. They never would have reached the hands of your customers, and you know it.”

He smirks at me and crosses his arms over his chest again.

“What?” I glower at him. “Why are you smiling? That wasn’t a compliment.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his lips, and he leans toward me slightly and winks. “Doesn’t mean I won’t take it as one.”

Grrr. This man is too fucking much.

I need him out of my restaurant and personal space soon, or I’m liable to say or do something I absolutely shouldn’t. Like start to actually like him. “Was there anything else you needed besides an apology you’re never going to get?”

He glances into the pot on the stove, grabs the spoon sticking up, and stirs it while inhaling deeply. “What’s this? It smells incredible.”

Another compliment from Jameson Fury. I better watch out—maybe Hell is freezing over.

I snatch the spoon out of his hand and stir even though it doesn’t need it. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

There’s no way I’m revealing any of my menu plans or recipes to this man. He’d steal them and somehow manage to nail a distribution deal with some massive food conglomerate that would make him millions.

Maybe I’m being a bit paranoid about it, but with someone as sneaky as Chef Fury, one can never be too careful. And Grams would roll over in her grave if she ever saw any of her recipes being sold with someone else’s name on them.

He holds up his hands in surrender with a dropped jaw. “Wow! I just wanted a taste of whatever smells so good. God forbid I try some of your food.”

Well, maybe not God…

But something prevents me from handing the spoon back. Maybe it’s pride or lingering anger over everything he’s done. Or, even scarier, maybe it’s because he’s already paid me two compliments when I was expecting him to be volatile when he showed up, and that worries me far more than if he had come in here guns blazing.

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