had been speaking stood. Lucien. Ah hell. For just a fraction of a second, she thought about diving behind the prep counter, but that would be stupid because he had seen her.
“Darcy, I see you’ve met Kenneth. He has the worst temperament of my chefs, hotheaded to a fault, but that doesn’t seem to be a problem for you.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize. He needs his head smacked every once in a while.”
“I do, it’s true,” Kenneth agreed.
Lucien added, “But he makes a hell of a spicy orange beef wrap.”
And as if on cue Kenneth moved to the stove and started spooning stuff onto a plate.
“You must try this. It just came to me in a dream.”
Lucien pulled the stool out that he had been using.
It did smell heavenly, so though she tried to sound put out, she failed when she said, “Well, if you insist.”
Brandon caught himself almost running as he made his way to the Michaels headquarters, so he forced himself to slow down. It was crazy—she was too old for him, but he had gone and developed a crush on Ember Montgomery. It was a death wish knowing who her husband was, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
She didn’t realize that he had a crush on her; if she did, she didn’t encourage him.
He stopped just outside and fixed his hair before he pulled the door open. His eyes zeroed in on Ember, but it was the giant next to her who had his total attention. It was her husband and he was looking at her like a hungry man staring at a steak dinner. Brandon straightened his spine. He felt short, which at six foot was ridiculous.
He started toward them, but hesitated when he saw the seriousness of their expressions. Then quite suddenly, Ember smiled and all the breath left his lungs. He noticed that the husband wasn’t immune to her smile as his eyes softened right before his mouth lowered and captured hers. Lucky, lucky bastard.
He felt like a bit of a Peeping Tom, but Ember was clearly wildly in love with her husband and he was just as smitten. Figured. And then her head turned toward him and she smiled, not the same “we share a secret” one that she gave her husband, but still dazzling.
“Brandon. This is my husband, Trace.”
When Trace turned to Brandon, he gulped loudly. It was the hardness in those eyes that surprised him, because he had just seen them soft and tender when Trace was looking at his wife. Brandon’s legs refused to move him forward—fear that Trace would uncover his secret made his stomach knot. And then, as if he had said that out loud, he watched as Trace’s eyebrow rose slightly. A smile spread over Trace’s face and meaning dripped from that arrogant grin: poor bastard.
Ember, oblivious, said to Trace, “We’re working until six and then we’re going to catch a bite at a place not too far from here. I’ll be home around eight.”
Trace’s eyes never left Brandon’s. “You’ll make sure my wife gets home safely.”
His meaning—or threat, however you wanted to look at it—was very clear. “Yes, sir.”
“Call me Trace. Nice to meet you, Brandon.”
“Um, likewise.”
“Ember, can you help with this?” Caitlin called from across the room.
“Sure, one second.” Ember moved from her desk toward Trace. “I’ll see you later.” Brandon watched them as if he was witnessing a perfectly orchestrated dance move. Ember moved into her husband, fitting perfectly against his body, as he lowered his head for her kiss.
“Be safe,” Trace whispered just as Ember pulled from him.
“Always.”
Trace watched Ember a moment longer before he turned back to Brandon. Brandon almost squirmed at the very thorough inspection he was being given, and then Trace moved closer and said, “I can’t fault you for your taste.”
Brandon’s jaw dropped.
“With that being said, she’s my wife. You feel me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Have fun tonight.” And with that he strolled away.
By quitting time, Brandon had found his balance again. It was unnerving to come face-to-face with the competition for the one you loved—not that there was any competition for Ember’s affections outside of his fantasies. They were going to dinner; he had her all to himself for the next two hours. Once she shut down her computer and grabbed her purse, they started for the door. They had reached the street when she asked, “You said your friend works where we’re going?”
“Yeah, but he isn’t working tonight.”
A small brick tavern appeared before them. They had the best damn