Page 87 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

She watches me with skepticism in her gaze. “Why? It’s none of your business.”

Here she goes again. Trying to push me away.

It wasn’t wholly unexpected, but it still hurts more than I’d like to admit. To have her standing here so close to me yet trying so hard to keep me at arm’s length is a major slam to the ego.

“Ashley kept me updated about what happened with your infections in your recovery. I was worried.”

“So, you were stalking me?”

I shrug and smile at her. “More or less. Why, are you going to take out a restraining order against me now?”

She glances behind her at the restaurant where the employees I’ve scraped together from my place and a few new ones hover and watch us anxiously from near the kitchen. “I might. All this is a little crazy. I don't think you're mentally stable.”

“You've always known I'm not mentally stable.”

“That's true. But I can't do this, Jameson. I can't take your money.”

I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up a hand.

“But…” She releases a resigned breath. “I will take Grant and Sylvie’s just because he was a dick. Only as a loan. One that I will repay.”

It’s better than nothing.

For a second there, I thought I was going to have to really fight to get her to accept the offer.

“I'm sure I can get you a decent interest rate.”

She grins at me. “I'm sure you can.” Her smile falters, and she shifts uneasily from foot to foot. “But I don't get it. Why are you doing all this, especially after what happened between us? It’s been months….”

“You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to hear from me. I didn't want to contact you and interfere if you didn't want me there.”

“No, you didn't contact me because you were pissed.”

I close the tiny distance between us and press my body against hers, capturing her face between my palms. “I'm doing this because I want you to succeed. This is your dream, and you deserve to have it.” I open my mouth to say the words I’ve been holding back for months but snap it closed again. “And you're right. I was angry about what you said that day in the hospital. Because it couldn't have been further from the truth. But I got over it quickly and realized I cared more than I was angry.”

“Really?”

I press my forehead against hers and sigh. “Really.”

Tears trickle down her cheeks, but it takes a moment before she reacts. She throws her arms around my waist and squeezes.

Fuck.

I wince and tighten up my body against the sharp stab of pain.

She jerks back, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, I rub at the spot. “I'm just fine now that you are.”

Her gaze dips down to my side. “Another hockey injury?”

I shrug. “Something like that. Now let me show you what else I have set up. But first, there’s something I’ve been dying to do…”

It feels like it’s been forever since I held in her my arms, felt her against me, smelled her heavenly scent. This is a moment to seize, not let pass by in a rush to move forward with my other plans.

I lean in and press my lips to hers gently, taking the kiss I've been dreaming about for the last eight weeks and savoring the taste of the woman who holds my heart. Pouring everything into it. Everything we've been through. All the hatred and attraction and tension and loss all rolled into one action.

When I finally drag my head away, she's breathless, and a flush fills her cheeks. “Wow…”

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