work on Friday Gianna was crabby and it was all Shane Roarke’s fault. She’d seen him the previous night smiling his charming smile at the brunette and blonde, chatting them up as if they were the only two women in the world. That wouldn’t bother her so much if he hadn’t given her wine and food in this very kitchen and smiled his charming smile at her. Then he invited her to his place for a test run of a new recipe where he charmed her some more.
She loved being charmed but wished he’d kept it to himself because all of that attention had fed into her crush, the one now starved into submission because without fuel there was nowhere to go. She was doing her best to not think about him but that resolve was challenged earlier tonight when she’d seen him brooding. It was the same expression she’d noticed the night of her double duty, although what the handsome, successful, famous Shane Roarke had to brood about was beyond her.
She pushed through the double doors and he looked up from whatever he was sautéing. And that was the thing. He never looked up when he was cooking. The building could be on fire and he’d still focus on the food. A girl noticed stuff like that when she had a crush on a guy. For the last three days he’d ignored her unless special requests from a customer made a conversation necessary to get the order just right. Tonight Shane had looked at her every time she was around, no matter what he was doing.
Gianna ignored him as she put in the order for two salads with romaine lettuce and the most delicious croutons on the planet. The prep cook would toss it with Shane’s special dressing, then add freshly grated Parmesan cheese. She picked up the wide, shallow bowls and set them on a tray. As she went to the double doors to go check on her tables a feeling prickled between her shoulder blades. Glancing over her shoulder she saw a hot and hungry expression in Shane’s gaze. There was something up with him and she was involved.
As soon as she came back for the salads, she’d find out what was going on with him. After leaving the kitchen she walked through the maze of tables and stopped.
She knew these two, had seen them in here individually. Both were somewhere in their mid-fifties, and widowed. She saw they still had salad on the plates in front of them on the white, cloth-covered table. “Still working on those salads, Mrs. Bausch, Mr. Walters.”
He was a big bear of a man with the calloused hands and leathery skin of someone who worked outdoors. “When are you going to call me Ben, little lady?”
“As soon as you stop calling me little lady. My name is Gianna.”
“You got it, Gianna.” There was a twinkle in his blue eyes.
“I haven’t seen you two in here together before.” She was curious.
“This is a blind date.” Kay Bausch was characteristically direct. “Austin Anderson set us up. You probably know he’s an engineer at Traub Oil Montana where I’m the secretary to the company president.”
“Ethan?”
“Points to you, Gianna. That’s the right Traub. And there are so many of them that sometimes it’s hard to keep the names straight.” She looked across the table at her blind date. “Ben has known him since he was a teenager. Austin, not Ethan.”
“He’s a good kid,” Ben answered, his mouth curving upward to form a smile in his rugged face. “He was kind of lost after his mom died in a car accident when he was only a teenager. Turned out he just needed a steady hand.”
“That’s nice at any age.” Kay’s voice was a little wistful. “And now he’s got his wife, Rose, Ethan’s sister. They’ll have their first anniversary on Christmas.”
Gianna felt a twist in her chest that signaled a severe case of envy. She’d seen the couple in here for dinner and the glow of their love still radiated. It’s what she had once hoped to find and now had all but given up on. Still, feeling sorry for herself was something she tried to do on her own time.
“Apparently Austin is quite the romantic.”
“How do you mean?” Ben asked her, but the expression on his face said he knew where she was going with this.
“He fixed you two up. How’s that working for you?” She looked at Kay, then Ben.
His grin was full of the devil. “So far I’m not sorry I put on this coat and tie.”
“You look very handsome. And uncomfortable,” Kay added. “The effort has not gone unnoticed or unappreciated.”
“Good to know. Because it has to be said that there’s no way to beat a comfortable pair of jeans.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” his date said.
“Something in common already.” Gianna nodded approvingly. “Can I get you anything else right now?”
“Nope. Got everything so far.” Ben was looking at his companion, who smiled like a young girl.
“Okay, then. Bon appétit. You two enjoy.”
Again weaving through the dining-room tables filled with people, she made her way back to the kitchen. Shane looked up as he was arranging shrimp in wine sauce over rice on two plates. Bonnie grabbed them, threw a nod of support, then left with the plates on a tray. She was alone with the chef and it was a sign, Gianna thought.
She marched over to where he stood in front of the stove and not all the heat she felt was from the cooking. “What’s going on?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you going to have me fired?” She folded her arms over her chest as she met his gaze. She didn’t know where the question came from but her luck had been so bad it was best to get the worst case scenario out of the way first.
The surprise in his eyes was genuine. “What?”
“You keep staring at me and it’s not a happy look. You’re going to tell the manager to fire me, aren’t you?”
“No.”
She waited for an explanation, but it didn’t come. “Then it’s my imagination that you keep watching me?”
“No.”
Again nothing further. He was the most frustrating, exasperating man she’d ever met and she had a talent for meeting exasperating men who frustrated her. “Then I don’t get it. I don’t understand what you want from me.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw and his mouth pulled tight. He was fighting some internal battle and it was anyone’s guess which way things would go. Finally he all but growled, “Then I’ll show you what I want.”
He took her hand and tugged her down the short hallway and into the large, walk-in pantry where nonperishable, industrial-size supplies were kept. Canned goods, jars of olive oil, flour, sugar and spices were all stored in here on floor-to-ceiling metal shelves. Shane shut the door, closing them in.
“You know,” Gianna said, her tone a little breathless, “you didn’t need to bring me in here to yell at me. Public chastisement is okay. I can take it. Just tell me what—”
The words were cut off when he pulled her into his arms. “This is what I want to tell you.”
And then he kissed
