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“So you won’t be on tour for a while?”
“Once the new album launches, in about six months, we’ll be back on tour.” He gives me a direct look. “Knowing Emily, she’ll also schedule us for more performances to ride the PR wave from getting Album of the Year.”
Swallowing, I try to keep my expression neutral. “I see.” Standing, I turn toward the bedroom to begin packing. But Luke’s fingers close over my wrist, and he gently pulls me toward him and onto his lap.
“Hey, we’ll make this work. Okay?”
I smile as he nuzzles my neck, pushing my robe’s collar out of his way. “I know. It’s just… I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”
“Maybe you could come with us?”
“And do what? Cook?” I laugh, enjoying his lips warm against my collarbone.
He abruptly raises his head. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Luke, I was only joking,” I protest.
“I know, but think about it. Pixie—“
My fingers over his mouth stop his words. “Pixie was just being… well, Pixie.”
Grabbing his hand, I pull him to his feet. “We better get moving if we don’t want to be late.”
The whirlwind of the awards show, the after-parties, the flashing lights, and the endless camera clicks already feel like a dream. A heady, intoxicating one filled with glamour, late nights, and stolen moments with Luke—but still,just a dream.
Now that we’re back in Jacksonville, reality sets in.
That reality includes the way my business has slowed down.
With all the time I took away, my private chef schedule isn’t nearly as packed as before. And the media and bad press? It certainly hasn’t helped. While some clients love the idea of hiring Luke Sterling’s girlfriend, others... well, they preferred when I was just Lila, the chef who stayed in the background. Maybe they’re wondering if I’m still serious about being a chef. Whichever it is, people are hesitant to hire me.
I glance down with a frown as my phone buzzes with yet another cancellation. That’s three this week. Turns out, being tabloid fodder isn’t great for a private chef business.
I try not to let it bother me.
I tell myself it’ll pick up soon, and the right opportunities will come in.
But after living in Luke’s world for those few days—flying on a private jet, staying in five-star hotels, sitting at a VIP table with celebrities, I can’t deny how… quiet things feel now.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad to be home. I love my kitchen, my routine, my normal life. But stepping into Luke’s world,even briefly, made me realize just how different our lives really are.
And then there’s Luke himself.
The way he pulls me in and tempts me—at least when he’s around.
He’s been in and out but mostly out, as Emily has all of the band members doing guest appearances. I’m still not used to the rush of excitement from seeing Luke on TV.
But he got home yesterday morning, and we spent the day on the beach. He’d made me laugh despite my worries. “Put on some sunscreen,” he’d said, stretching out on the sand.
I’d reached for the bottle, but he’d stopped me. “No, do it slowly. Like, really slowly.”
“What? Why?”
His grin had been pure sin. “Because watching you with a bottle of suntan oil, touching yourself drives me crazy.”
I’d blushed scarlet but played along, turning the simple act of applying sunscreen into something that had him dragging me back to the house before I’d evenfinished my legs.
Now, running my fingers over the lingering tan lines, I smile at the memory. Everything about life with Luke is different—bigger, brighter, more intense. The five-star hotel, the red carpet, the private flights... it’s all been indescribable.