“Word travels fast.”
“He texted me a warning.” She swung her feet off the drawer and pushed up. “Let me see this noisy little thing. Boy, I guess, from the blue T-shirt.”
Jonah hesitated for exactly one second—the second it took to calculate that this stranger couldn’t possibly do a worse job than he currently was—before unclipping the harness and lifting Atlas free.
“This is Atlas,” he said as he did the hand-off. “He evidently didn’t appreciate the noise of the knife.”
“I’ve always hated that sound, too, sweet baby,” she crooned softly, taking Atlas easily and settling him against her shoulder with one hand on his back. “It’s so scary, that big, loud knife, isn’t it?”
She started this slow, swaying rock, patting his back, murmuring about noisy knives.
Almost immediately, Atlas hiccupped twice. Then once more. Then stopped.
Jonah stared. “How did you do that?”
“I have no idea. Babies like me. Dogs, too. Cats are hit or miss.” She rubbed Atlas gently. “I think it’s a vibe thing. You were tense. He felt it. Now he feels me and I’m extremely relaxed because I’ve been sitting here reading for an hour because all the work is done. The department paperwork—a ridiculous waste of time and money, if you ask me—is filed, and I’m hanging out waiting for the old guy to finish terrorizing his students.”
Jonah’s jaw dropped. Not only did he not know Broussard had an admin, he wondered if the chef knew she called him “the old guy” who terrorized students.
She wasn’t wrong, but still.
“Well, the only terrorist in the classroom today weighs sixteen pounds and sings like he’s auditioning for the opera.”
She chuckled as Atlas let out a contented sigh and buried his face in her neck. Not that he could actually blame his son for going right there. It was a…nice neck.
“So, you work here?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I guess you could call it work. He does most of it himself, but there are some things he needs me for. The boring stuff he can’t be bothered with. But mostly I just hang out and”—she tipped her head toward the novel—“get my fill of romantasy.”
He had no idea what that was, but it sounded appealing. Or maybe that was just her voice, which had a little rasp to it that was super?—
Whoa, there, Jonah.No flirting with the chick who works for the big guy. Or the old guy, as she put it.
“Unbelievable,” Jonah said, shifting his attention back to the baby. “I’ve been bouncing him for twenty minutes and you just…nailed it.”
She smiled at him, revealing beautiful teeth—shocker—and a spark in her eyes.
“Like I said. Vibe.” She looked down at the baby, who was doing the slow blink that meant sleep was seconds away. “Great name, by the way. Very strong.”
“Like his lungs.”
She laughed, which really did a few stupid things to his chest.
“I’m Jonah,” he said, dropping the diaper bag on the floor and sinking into the other chair.
“Pepper,” she said.
“Pepper?” He let the name sit for a second. “Is that a nickname?”
“It’s the curse of Southern parents who love spicy food and have a sense of humor. And you brought a baby to Chef Broussard’s lecture. That’s either very brave or very desperate.”
“Solidly the second one. I’m a single father.” There. He had to let her know. Maybe it was dumb, but why not? He didn’t sayavailablesingle father who had no time, even less money, and lived in the moral equivalent of his dad’s basement.
She was probably off limits anyway, since she worked for Broussard.
“You don’t see many single dads on a college campus,” she said, eyeing him as though considering him in a different light. Maybe, hopefully, anoh, good, he’s singlelight.
“I definitely got a lot of weird looks today, but I thought I’d give it a try.”