Daddy’s Billionaire Chef

Yes, it seemed Matt was exceedingly rich. Our four-bedroom house was quite nice, but it was likely nothing compared to what he was used to.

He jumped out of the back seat, holding out his hands for me. His fingers against my skin both calmed me down and made my heart race at the same time.

“Julia, you look absolutely stunning,” he said softly, brushing a swift kiss across my temple. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the car service. I want my full attention on you during the drive.”

He guided me into the back seat, where every single detail of the interior was so posh I was afraid to touch anything.

The car pulled away and had just turned from our small street onto a larger one when I saw Dad’s car coming toward us. For a moment I froze, then realized there was no way he would be able to see us through the tinted windows. My sigh of relief raised Matt’s eyebrows, and he looked around.

“That’s Connor. Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” he chuckled.

“No, of course not. It’s just…Dad’s known you a long time. It’s a bit weird.”

He took my hand, threading our fingers together. “I’ll bet. Don’t worry, Julia. We’ll get there. When the time is right, I’ll take care of it.”

He thankfully changed the subject to movies, and I was delighted that we had similar tastes. We went with friends to whatever movie they suggested, but when it was a Sunday afternoon home alone, we both enjoyed big action movies full of car chases and explosions.

/> Matt understood immediately when I explained that I couldn’t stand violence, or even the thought of it, in real life, but when it was on the screen, the sick thrill was entertaining. Like me, he enjoyed the way that almost always, the good guys won, the bad guys lost terribly, and there ended up being justice in the world.

We arrived at a tiny family run Thai noodle place. Matt wanted to experience the authentic flavors for something he was working on, so we ordered an array of dishes to share. I’ve always loved a great variety of food, but it was different while tasting things with a chef.

“Take another bite of this, but smell the Holy Basil first,” he said.

Strangely, the scent changed the flavor slightly. “It’s…sweeter, I think?”

“Exactly. So if we’re serving something like this we could add a pile of basil leaves beside it for color on the plate, and also so they’d catch some of the aroma.”

He always explained things without talking down to me. He was definitely more like the guys from Ethan’s office than Dad’s lawyers.

Looking around the room, we were the only couple here on a date, if that’s what this was. The other diners were families or business people just grabbing a quick bite. There were several people eating alone, which to me underlined how great everyone thought the food was.

“Don’t worry,” Matt said, reaching out to trail his thumb along my chin. “I’m going to take you to fancy places too. I want to take you everywhere, gorgeous.” His soft touch made me shiver.

His gaze was practically burning into mine, making my skin prickle. Then he frowned slightly. “Do I make you nervous?”

“A little. I’m sorry.”

He slipped his chair closer and took my hand. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me why you’re nervous? If there’s anything I can do, I’d love to fix it.”

Looking into those striking green eyes, there was no way I could tell him that I was sinking into an overwhelming pool of lust every time he looked at me.

How honest was I supposed to be? Was it silly to admit my feelings too soon?

“I’ve never felt this much on a first date before,” I confessed.

Matt’s arm slipped around me, holding me against his shoulder. “Me too, sweetheart. Ever since I saw your incredible eyes, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

His lips grazed the top of my head. “Then you turned out to be smart and funny and interesting.” He paused, pulling back to look at me head on. “When you mentioned going out with other guys, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.”

I shrugged. “People are supposed to date, aren’t they? I keep trying, but it’s so hard to be comfortable with anyone.”

“Are you comfortable with me?” His fingers swirled circles against the back of my shoulder.

“Sort of.” His grin made me need to continue. “It’s a good kind of uncomfortable. Like being a bit wired from a too-large coffee.”