Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,75

right there.” He pointed to the end of the row of stations where the judges and announcers were set up. Isla was standing on the stage.

“What is she doing?” I asked, confused. Concerned. We were both exhausted and upset. God only knew where her head was. “Does she have a guitar?” I asked, bewildered.

“I’m a little rusty,” she said into a microphone. “But I want to dedicate this song to Chef Sean Kincaid.”

I froze. What the hell was she doing?

Gus cackled.

Then Isla started to strum her guitar and sing.

It was a heavy metal love song. Despite my shock, I had to smile at that.

Love Song by Tesla.

She sounded fantastic. Like a real rockstar. A grungy, feminine, sexy as hell, woman-in-love rocker.

That didn’t mean I understood what the hell she was doing.

When the song ended, she thanked the crowd for the applause, then said, “I need to explain something.”

That would be fucking helpful.

A song was great, but I wanted her. For real. Forever.

Grand gesture. That’s what Savannah had told me. Show Sean I was serious about being out in the open about our relationship by announcing it to the masses. Well. Here I was staring at a few mildly curious people, but most everyone else was milling around in pursuit of barbecue. I could see Sean, so presumably he could hear me. I took the guitar off that I had enlisted Dakota to bring to me.

I should have enlisted one of my friends to draw Sean closer to the judge’s platform.

But too late. No regrets.

That’s how I wanted to live. With no regrets.

“I’ve worked really hard at Bone for the last three years,” I said. “I love living in such a creative and food-focused neighborhood as Brooklyn.” I cleared my throat and looked at Savannah, who was standing next to the stage holding a very squirmy Sully.

She made a “speed it up” gesture with her hand.

“But sometimes when you work so many hours, you forget that you’re more than a chef. You forget that you’re a woman and that you’re lonely.”

I paused, shocked that I was actually managing any words at all, let alone anything that were actual, you know, feelings. But that was the problem. Trying to stuff down my emotions was why I was at serious risk for losing Sean.

The thought of that was worse than anything, including public humiliation.

I forged ahead. “Then someone comes along who changes everything and that’s what happened with Sean.”

The man himself was walking closer to me. His expression was serious. I kept rolling.

“When I first met him, I thought he was an arrogant jerk, and he thought even less of me, but then we started working together and I realized that he’s funny, fair, compassionate, and intelligent. And I fell completely in love with him.” I locked eyes with Sean.

His eyebrows were raised and he had his arms crossed over his muscular chest. He didn’t look like a man bowled over by my declaration. Maybe he was still mad at me.

The back of my neck was sweating and I was pretty sure I had an irregular heartbeat that might require medical attention. My breathing was shallow. “It doesn’t matter who wins the cook-off today because I have already won the biggest award– his love.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Sean said, taking two long strides. He jumped up onto the stage and took the mic from me. He tossed it in the direction of the judges, who were wide-eyed and looking confused. He brushed my hair back. “I can’t let you do this.”

“Do what?” I whispered, feeling like I might blackout. There were spots dancing in front of my eyes. Most of the attendees weren’t paying attention at all, but there was an older couple standing there watching and the judges and event emcee. That was six more people than I cared to have staring at me.

“Do something that isn’t you. I appreciate the gesture, and trust me, one day when we have children we can tell them this story and make it sound really romantic, but right now I’m saving you.”

Have children? He was forgiving me. Oh, thank God. I relaxed my shoulders. “Hey. It was really romantic, you jerk-off. I was trying to apologize and tell you I love you.”

Sean grinned. “That’s more like it.” He cupped my cheeks with his calloused palms. “I love you, too. I’m going to get you off this stage, then I’m going to kiss you.”

“My hero.” I actually meant it. My knees felt weak from confessing my feelings