I didn't think he was capable of getting genuinely angry. And the fact that he seems angry right now, on my behalf, because someone was cruel tome,spreads warmth through my chest.
"Yeah, well. It felt good to do it." A laugh escapes me. "Is that terrible? That telling my father off felt almost as good as the service tonight?"
"Not even a little."
I nod, turning the glass in my hands. "It's the thing that drives me insane about him. He can be so wonderful so much of the time. He's given me the world, he's doted on me since I was a child. But it's like he thinks the moment he loosens his grip I'll fall apart. I won't pick the right person, I won't be able to run a pop-up, I won't be able to handle his restaurant."
The vineyard is dark and still around us. Crickets. The rustle of the vines in a breeze I can feel on my bare arms. Alex is watching me with his head tilted slightly, not trying to fill the silence, and I'm grateful for that because I don't need him to fix this. I just needed to say it to someone who wouldn't tell me to be grateful for everything my father has done for me.
"But anyway. I didn't come down here just to vent about my father and his terrible taste in men."
"No?" Alex says.
"No." I set the glass on the railing beside me. "I have a proposition."
He tilts his head, and the corner of his mouth lifts. "I'm listening."
"Tonight was the best night of my career. And I want to celebrate it. Properly." I look at him directly, forcing myself to hold his gaze. "And I think we both know there's been a thing between us since that night in the kitchen. Since before that night, probably. And my father just told me I can't make my own decisions, so I'm feeling particularly motivated to make one right now."
The smile that spreads across his face is slow and just a little bit dangerous. "A proposition."
"Yes, but don't let it go to your head."
"Too late."
I fight the urge to smile back. "But I want to be clear about where I'm at with all of this. I'm serious about New York. I'm serious about taking over my father's restaurant. That's been the plan since I was sixteen and I'm not looking for anything thatgets in the way of it." I tuck a strand of still-damp hair behind my ear. "I think we'd be better as two people who can enjoy each other and have a really good night without it turning into a whole…thing."
I say this with conviction.
And yet somewhere in the back of my head, a very small, very loud voice stamps her foot on my shoulder and announces that I am an enormous liar and that this is absolutely going to become a whole thing and that I have, in fact, developed a massive, idiotic, completely inconvenient crush on Alex Midnight. She is practically jumping up and down. She is holding a sign that says YOU ARE SO FULL OF SHIT.
I take a large gulp of wine to drown her out.
"Just tonight," Alex says, his voice steady. "A celebration."
"Exactly."
"No complications."
"None."
"Okay." He stands, and I have to tilt my head back to look at him because he is very tall and very close and the porch light is catching the line of his jaw and the planes of his face and the voice in my head is now screaming at full volume. "Just tonight. Very casual. I'm on board."
"Good."
"One question though." He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, brushing the spot on my neck where I sprayed the Philosykos, and my entire body lights up from that single point of contact like a circuit closing. "Does this start now, or are we still negotiating?"
"I don't know," I say. "Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to kiss me?"
He laughs, low and warm, and his hands find my waist and pull me against him, and then his mouth is on mine and it's better than the kitchen, better than I remember, better than a celebration has any right to be.
I pull back just enough to speak, my lips still brushing his. "Inside," I say.
"Yes chef," he says, and he's smiling when he says it, and I'm smiling when I kiss him again, and we stumble through his door still laughing, and the voice on my shoulder is absolutely losing her mind but I am not listening to her. Not tonight. Tonight is just a celebration. Tonight doesn't count. Tonight is two people who have chemistry enjoying each other and nothing more.
The voice doesn't believe me. I don't entirely believe me either. But his hands are in my hair and his mouth is on my neck and I decide that's a problem for tomorrow.
CHAPTER 10