for me.”
Monica squeals, oblivious to my sarcasm, and hooks her arms around my neck in a hug. “You’re the best, Desmond. Thank you. Now why don’t you come have a drink with us downstairs at Shooters? Zach’s coming too.”
I scrunch my face. “Really? To the bar? He’s got a game tomorrow.” I know it’s preseason for the NFL, but Zach doesn’t mess around with his football schedule.
“He’s just stopping by for a minute. We haven’t seen much of each other lately. But you should come. Give the certificate to Maggie yourself. Maybe you two will even hit it off and stop fighting so much.”
I chuckle. “That sounds too much like a double date. I think one of us dating the coach’s daughter is enough, don’t you?”
Monica folds her arms across her chest. “It’s not a date at all. Just a hangout.”
Backing away, I shake my head. “I can’t. I really need to clean up the kitchen, and then I have a torn-up storage closet in the back room that’s screaming for my attention.”
Monica relents with a smile and backs away. “Okay, fine. But you and Maggie can’t avoid each other forever. She and I are kind of a package deal.” She raises her hands in a cute shrug. “You two should just kiss and make up already.”
“Ha,” I burst out. “That’s funny. Zach says the same thing.”
“With all the tension between you two, I’m surprised that hasn’t happened yet.” She sticks her tongue between her teeth and reaches for the door handle behind her. “If you change your mind, we’ll be downstairs.”
I watch her leave, but thoughts of Maggie linger on my mind as I go back to work. I can’t get over how Zach found someone so ridiculously perfect for him. And Monica has a point. Maggie will be unavoidable, at least until she moves back to LA once she realizes Seattle isn’t made for a woman addicted to the limelight.
Ugh. I don’t know why Maggie Stevens has the power to get under my skin the way she does, but I should be damn happy she’s not stepping foot in my class again after today. Except I don’t think I am happy, and it has nothing to do with the certificate she didn’t earn. I’ve spent my life staying away from women like her, women who are never able to sit still. Maggie is the type that cruises through her damn life without slowing down to experience the natural beauty of the world. Maggie Stevens wears her beauty like it’s a mask, and I don’t do charades.
Unable to settle my nerves, I reach for my camera to look through the photos I took in my class. The students signed a waiver when they first registered, allowing me to photograph them so that I could use the images for my website or other promotional material. But for some damn reason, the lens found Maggie more often than not.
I had photos of her tying back her hair, chopping herbs with a concentrated look on her face, and stirring the lemon-garlic sauce. At one point, I even aimed the camera at Monica but caught Maggie stealing a taste of her dish. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are parted. Dare I say, she looks to be savoring the moment like she’s dreaming of the taste before the pasta hits her mouth.
I shake my head. Who would have known? Maybe Maggie doesn’t hate my class as much as she wants me to believe.
Staring back down at the images of Maggie, I can’t help but feel a bit turned on by them. I’ve never considered my food photography erotic before, yet I’m growing hard at the thought of Maggie wrapping those saucy lips around my—
“Shit,” I curse under my breath as I power off my camera and set it back on the island. I don’t have time to entertain thoughts of the woman who can’t tell the difference between a lobster and a crab. No. I need to clean and then start on the closet before my early night turns into an all-nighter.
Just then, the still unlocked door to Edible Desire opens, and I swivel around to face it.
“Well, hi there, stranger,” the woman purrs. “Long time, no see.”
I grin at the familiar blonde with the ice-blue eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away once you tried my food.”
Faye steps forward with a grin and lets the door close behind her. “Well, you were right. I can’t stop thinking about