Chapter 18
“Are you okay?”
As we lay on the plush rug covering the cool, hard floor of his office, basking in the quiet aftermath of our escapade, I feel a glow radiating from within. It’s like I’m wrapped in a soft, warm blanket made of pure bliss.
‘I’m more than okay,’ I breathe out, still caught in the haze of pleasure.
His rich and resonant laughter fills the room. ‘What about dessert?’ he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness.
The suggestion spikes my heart rate again, curiosity mingling with possibilities. ‘I’d really like that,’ I reply, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him better. ‘But I think for tonight, I should probably head home.’
He nods, a smile playing on his lips as he extends his hand to help me up. ‘Of course. Let’s get you home safe and sound,’ he says as we both stand and put on our clothing, trying to look somewhat presentable after our little kitchen rendezvous.
“So, is this your standard post-service routine, Chef?” I tease, fiddling with my shirt.
Patrick flashes a sly grin, expertly buttoning up his chef’s jacket. “Only when the evening’s performance is exceptionally noteworthy,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
We share a chuckle, but as I slip into my shoes, a sobering realization cuts through the laughter. Here I am, caught up with a man who’s not only my boss but also my ex’s dad. The joy of the moment starts to feel a tad weighted.
Noticing my sudden quiet, Patrick’s expression shifts to concern. “Everything all right?” he asks, closing the gap between us with a few steps.
I force a smile, attempting to brush off the seriousness. “Just thinking about the muscle ache I’ll have tomorrow from tonight’s workout,” I jest, but the smile that follows doesn’t quite mask my unease.
He doesn’t miss a beat, though. Stepping closer, he gently lifts my chin with his fingers, ensuring I meet his eyes. “Allie, what’s really on your mind?” he asks, his tone gentle yet probing.
His straightforward concern and the tender way he touches me make my heart both swoon and sink. He’s so direct, so genuine, it strips away any pretense. “It’s a bit much, you know?” I confess, letting the words tumble out. “You’re amazing, Patrick, and what’s happening between us is definitely something electric. But you’re also my boss. And Caleb’s dad. It’s kind of a lot to juggle.”
He listens intently, his thumb softly caressing my jawline. “I get it, and I never want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. We can take things slow, step by step. I want you to feel safe with me,” he reassures me. His voice is as comforting as a warm cup of cocoa on a snowy day.
That earnestness, that promise of patience, does things to my heart. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.” I respond. My voice is soft, my defenses melting a bit more with his every word.
As we prepare to make our way out, a whirlwind of doubts starts to swirl in my mind. What if I’m reading all this wrong? What if this incredible connection is just temporary?
He places his hand on the small of my back, a gesture that makes me feel so damn good I could cry. But I play it cool.
He studies me for a moment, his concern palpable. ‘Are you sure you’re okay to take the train home?’ he asks. I’m not entirely accustomed to his protective tone of voice. “I can always drop you off.”
I manage a laugh, though it comes out a bit strained. ‘Yeah, I promise. I’m good, really,’ I insist, trying to inject a bit of lightness into the conversation. It’s been a while since anyone apart from Stacy has shown this kind of concern for me, and it feels both strange and heartwarming.
‘All right, just making sure,’ he says, giving me a gentle smile that makes me want to spill all my fears and hopes right there. But I hold back, clinging to my self-protective instincts.
Patrick grabs his keys and gestures for me to follow. ‘I like to do a final walk-through every night,’ he explains as we stroll through the dimly lit restaurant, his presence comforting in the vast, quiet space.
‘Every night? That’s dedication,’ I remark, watching him expertly navigate between tables and chairs.
‘Yeah,’ he nods, checking each section with a practiced eye. ‘Gotta make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow.’
Curious, I lean a little closer. ‘And what happens if it’s not?’
He gives me a half-smile, the dim lighting casting intriguing shadows across his face. ‘Then I handle it. It could mean a stern chat the following day with whoever was in charge. I’ve been here until two a.m. once or twice.’
‘Really? That late?’ I tease, bumping his shoulder lightly with mine. ‘Sounds like a wild night.’
He laughs, a rich sound that fills the quiet around us. ‘Oh, it’s wild, all right. Just me and the contents of the walk-in.’
As we reach the front door, he does a final lock check and sets the alarm. ‘Part of the charm of owning a place like this,’ he adds, his tone light but sincere.
‘I’m impressed,’ I say as we step outside into the cool night air. ‘It’s more than just running the kitchen, isn’t it? You really take care of everything.’
‘Absolutely,’ he agrees. ‘It’s all about the details and part of being an owner.’
As the cool night wraps around us, I find myself not wanting the conversation to end. ‘Thanks for the late-night tour,’ I say, my voice playful.
He chuckles, meeting my gaze. ‘My pleasure.”
“Owning a place like Savor is kind of a dream of mine,’ I confess, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. ‘But it feels like it’s light-years away.’
Patrick glances over; his eyes are thoughtful under the streetlights. ‘I wouldn’t say that. From what I’ve seen, you’ve got the smarts and the talent to make it happen,’ he replies earnestly. His compliment sends a warm flush through me,
His words transports me to cloud nine, and I realize how much his opinion matters to me. I try to play it cool, to keep my excitement under wraps, but it bubbles up irresistibly.
‘Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.’
We reach the subway station. ‘Goodnight, Allie,’ he says, his voice a soft rumble that reverberates through my spinning senses.
I watch him walk away; every step he takes leaves a mark on the night and on my heart. Left standing there, bathed in starlight and the lingering warmth of his lips, I know I’m in trouble.
Big, delightful trouble.