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I tried my best not to paint Natalie in a bad light to my parents, but I’m still holding a slight grudge toward her, and I’m sure it shows. I’m trying not to, butfuck, easier said than done.

To make things even more confusing, a few times during dinner tonight, I caught her giving me these looks—on the scale of one to ten with one beingawe, that’s sweetand ten beingholy shit take me now,she was a solid eight. Which took my brain nowhere good. I guess I get it though. Though things are tense between us, my body still reacts to hers—much to my mind’sdismay. I can’t help it; she’s just so effortlessly sexy. She always has been. Natalie’s the kind of girl that you fantasize about and take home to meet mother—basically, she’s the whole package—you know, aside from being a liar.

But is she really a liar? I mean, on the one hand, fuck yes, she lied to me and everyone about who Tatum’s father was. However, the more I think about it—the more I try and put myself in her shoes—the more Igetwhere she was coming from. And really, it was more of an omission of the truth than an outright lie. Doesn’t stop me from being salty about it, though.

It’s beeneight days since I went over to Natalie’s house. To say that things have been tense between us ever since would be an understatement. Hell, I’m pretty sure the tension swirling around us is so thick that everyone in the vicinity can feel it.

The fact that the paternity test results should arrive any day now also has me feeling like I could crawl out of my skin. Which explains why I’m holed up in my office, anxiously waiting for her to arrive for her closing shift. Will she have the results, or won’t she? What’s even more strange is that I think I’m more nervous about seeing her than I am about the test—probably because deep down, I already know the answer.

To make matters worse, my mind keeps reliving our last closing shift together. If I think hard enough, the memory of how her body felt pressed against me, and the sear of her lips on mine, has my pants growing uncomfortably tight in the crotch.

This shit has to stop, I think to myself, standing and stalking into the kitchen. My head chef, Darren, shoots me a wry look when I walk in. “What brings you out of the cave tonight, boss?”

“Got a new recipe I want to sample Friday night. If it does well, I want to add it to the menu.”

His expression immediately transforms. Excitement lights his eyes. “No shit?” He turns to his sous. “Javier, cover me?”

“Yes, chef,” Javier calls back.

Darren wastes no time huddling up with me where I dive into the nitty-gritty of my new dish. “I want to make Friday night more upscale—a romantic and cozy date-night kind of thing. Not just a meal, but a destination, an experience.”

Darren’s eyes are filled with intrigue. “But I also want to highlight our local and regional cuisine.”

“I’m down with all of that, but get to the good stuff, Boss.”

I laugh, appreciating his straightforwardness and passion. “Okay, check it: I want to do a small, intimate tasting Friday night. Fresh fish, blackened shrimp, collard greens cooked with Conecuh sausage, red rice, and a Cajun cream sauce.”

“I’m down with all of that. You gonna be able to get the fish in time?”

“Yeah, I talked to the market. I’ve been toying with this idea for a while.”

“What made you pull the trigger?” he asks, but judging from his tone, I’m not sure how much he actually cares.

“I…the new menu has been doing well, and it just felt like the right time.” Not to mention, I fucking need a distraction like he wouldn’t believe. Then again, maybe he would. I mean, my entire staff knows my and Nat’s dirty laundry. Luckily, Carlos threatened their asses and told them they would continue to act professional or else. Guess their fear of him outweighs the juicy gossip my impromptu office meeting created.

“Yeah, okay, Boss.”

“Bring the crew up to speed. I’ll prep the front of house.” We bump fists and I pivot to head back to my office, only to run smack into Natalie.

And I mean that literally. The momentum of our collision sends her sprawling backward, but thanks to my stellar reflexes, I’m able to catch her with an arm around her waist just in time, leaving us in a tango-esque dip. The only thing missing is a rose clenched between my teeth.

I reach my free hand forward and grab her shoulder, hauling us both upright. We remain locked in our semi-embrace for far longer than necessary. In fact, neither of us moves a muscle—I don’t even think we breathe—until Darren coughs…loudly.

And just like that, the spell is broken. Natalie jumps away from me as if I’m a bonfire and she’s a highly combustible solution.Ha. Highly combustible. If that doesn’t describe us, I’m not sure what does.

“Jesus! Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Nate texted me.”

“It’s all good,” I say to her. “Plus, I wasn’t exactly watching where I was going, either. No worries.”

Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. “Can we talk really fast?” she asks.

“In a bit. Right now, I need you to go ahead and get clocked in.” She looks crestfallen, and I feel like an ass, but somehow I know she has the test results with her and…I just need some time to compose myself.

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.” She scurries around me, and as much as I hate to admit it, my eyes stay glued to her ass—her plump, juicy, bitable ass—until she’s out of view.

I start heading for the door again when someone else stops me…Darren this time. “Hey Boss!”

“Yeah?”