Page 91 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

IZZY

Jameson slides up behind me and wraps his arms around me tightly, nuzzling his face into the back of my neck. He leans in toward my ear so I’ll hear him above the bustle and noise around us in the restaurant and kisses me there. “Is this the happiest day of your life?”

Standing here, staring at what’s hung on the wall right by the hostess stand, I almost answer yes, but instead, I turn my head slightly toward him and grin. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up. “No, I'm pretty sure that was watching you react to the menu changes I made on live television.”

The chuckle that radiates through his chest and into my back makes me laugh even harder. He squeezes me gently. “Ouch. I guess I know what your priorities are. Taking me down a peg tops receiving a Michelin star.”

I reach up with one hand and rub it against the rough stubble on his cheek. The man has been working so hard lately that I can’t even remember the last time he bothered to shave.

Although, it would've been nice for him to clean up a little tonight, knowing we’re here celebrating and that photos are undoubtedly going to make it into some very big magazines and newspapers.

“What about you?”

He drags his head back slightly, with an eyebrow arched. “What about me what?”

“Is this the happiest day of your life?” I motion to the framed page giving us the star and calling Grandma's Fury “a culinary wonderland of delight for people looking for unique and incredible flavors or just a taste of downhome cooking.” It truly is a brilliant description of what we do, and being recognized for it by one of the most prestigious culinary awards in the world is something I never even dreamed about. But Jameson has. “This is what you work your whole life for.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, but I know what this means to him. This is the culmination of everything we’ve both worked so hard for. Years of long hours and little sleep. Days we wanted to throw in the towel. Arguments over dishes and pretty much everything else…that often ended in incredible make-up sex.

It was all worth it.

Jameson kisses my neck again in a way that definitely isn't appropriate when we’re standing in front of all these customers. “You think we can kick everyone out of the kitchen for a little while?”

I chuckle and grind my ass back against his crotch where his cock is already stirring to life. “Put that thing away. It's already gotten us into enough trouble.”

“Hey!” Rachel’s voice cuts through the noise around us. “If you two are done dry-humping each other, we’re ready to make a toast.”

We both turned to look at Rachel, and she motions us over to where she stands with Grant, Sylvie, Ashley, Flynn, Bash, Greer, and their daughter Annabelle, who all flew in to help us celebrate when we learned we received the star. Jameson releases a heavy sigh and inclines his head toward them.

I drop my head back against his shoulder. “We should probably go over there.”

“Yeah, we should. But I’m pretty good right here.” He presses himself against me even tighter.

Rachel groans. “Seriously, you two look like you're trying to get her pregnant in public.”

We both laugh, and Jameson's hands slide out over my protruding belly lovingly.

I glance back at him. “Too late for that.”

Though that wasn't in public. That was very much in private.

Thank God.

Because if anyone had seen what he did with that whipped cream the night I got pregnant, they would not be able to eat any of the desert we’re serving tonight.

“Let's go.” Jameson grabs my hand and leads me back to everyone who already has their glasses of wine full and ready.

Grant clanks his knife against his glass to quiet everyone down. “Now that the couple of honor has finally graced us with their presence, I'd like to propose a toast—to this wacky idea Jameson had. I'll admit…I thought he was a little insane when he suggested it.”

I scowl at Grant, but he just grins back at me. Over the past three years, our financial backer and I have come to an understanding about some of the things he said and did before we merged our endeavors. He’s now seen the light—the fact that Grandma’s Fury is one of the hottest spots in the entire New York metropolitan area doesn't hurt. But I will continue to give him crap about it until the day he dies.

“But I have to say…Grandma's Fury has really gone above and beyond anything I ever could have expected. Congratulations! You guys deserve it.”

“Hear! Hear!” Everyone raises their glasses and takes a sip—me of my water.

Then, Bash clears his throat, a hint of moisture in his eyes. It's been nice to see him grow closer to Jameson. The fact that they’ve been able to open up to each other and Rachel so much more about the things they went through as children has helped Jameson deal with all the feelings he’s had bottled up for so long, the ones that ate away at him and made him feel the need to put on such an act around everyone. He’s still the same shameless chef he always was, but he shows a lot more of what’s underneath now, especially with me.

Bash locks gazes with Jameson and raises his glass. “I just want to add that Mom would've been more proud of you and this than of any other thing any of us have accomplished.”

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