Dirty Chef

I made the sign of the cross instinctively. May nothing ever happen to Isla and Jack; that thought made my heart hurt. “Well, we’re gonna babysit.”

Adam grunted. “Not until the soft spot on their heads ain’t soft.”

I chuckled.

“Let me know when they eat solids,” he added. “I can work with that.”

“You’re being silly.” I checked the rearview and moved over to the right. Our exit was coming up.

“I’m counting my blessings,” he countered. A cute argument for someone who wasn’t religious. “There are two things in my life I haven’t ruined. Our business and our friendship. That’s it.”

I knitted my brows and side-eyed him. “What are you talking about?”

He yawned and sank lower in his seat. “You of all people know, love. How many women have told me I make a useless boyfriend?” A few. “How many birthdays have I forgotten?” Most of them. “Who cried for two weeks when I decided against college in Seattle and moved across the country?” His mother. “How many hamsters did I forget to feed when I was a kid?”

“They were gerbils.” According to the pictures I’d seen and the tales shared by family members.

“See? I didn’t even know what they were.”

I rolled my eyes, torn between amusement and wanting to tell him how wrong he was.

“Your mother cried when all of you went off to college,” I pointed out. “She cried two years ago when you and I visited my family in Italy. She cries every time she and your dad are off on another adventure.” Since retirement, Adam’s folks traveled a lot.

Adam shrugged a little. “Whatever. I ain’t risking shit anymore. Those poor kids—I’d fuck them up before they learned how to crawl.”

What he said didn’t sit well with me. As for the women he’d dated over the years…I couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible, because some of them had broken up with him when he wouldn’t spend less time with me.

* * *

“Mornin’, miss. Just you today?”

“Good morning. Adam’s here somewhere.” I smiled and bent down to smell the white roses George and his wife were selling. They were one of my favorite vendors at the market, and I often bought flowers here for the restaurant. “How’s Magda doing?” Last time I was here, she’d just had surgery on her hip.

“Much better.” George’s craggy face lit up with all the love he had for his missus. “She’s runnin’ after the grandkids most days now.”

“Bene, I’m glad—”

“Alessia!” Adam hollered down the row.

“I’ll be back,” I chuckled and left George’s stand.

It wasn’t as cold yet as the forecast had predicted, but it looked like it was going to rain any minute now. In a sea of gray and black, my yellow coat stood out and dared the clouds to turn my day sour.

My breath came out in a mist as I trailed down the row, past vendors who sold everything from flowers and homemade soap and candles to freshly caught fish, fruit, and caribou jerky.

When I reached Adam, he was in work mode, holding up what looked like a jar of preserves of some sort.

“Try this.” He fished out some creamy yellow jelly on a new spoon.

I closed my lips around it and hummed at the deliciousness. “Cloudberry, right?”

He nodded and returned the jar to the woman who had several shelves of various jams and jellies behind her. “I was thinking about the Valentine’s idea you had.”

“Yeah?” I waited expectantly to hear his grand plan. I lived for this. For his creativity.

“Sweet and spicy,” he said with a faint smirk. “Just like you. It’ll be a good mix for the menu.” He couldn’t know what he did to me when he said those things. He nodded at the woman. “Do you have a bulk option for businesses?”

“Absolutely,” the woman said, “but I fear we only have that on our website.”

That worked.

Adam waved it off. “That’s fine. Gimme two of the cloudberry, please. I’ll order the rest.”

Once the menu was set, I added silently. I’d learned his process. He was going to create something magical.

While the woman wrapped the jars and added a business card to the little bag, Adam turned to me. “That’s gonna go on the sweet and spicy burger. Off the top of my head, I’m thinking a cloudberry chutney on a smoky brisket with the bite of Carolina Reaper.”

“Holy shit,” I mouthed.

“Yeah?” His smirk widened.

“Fuck yes,” I said excitedly. “Oh! Wouldn’t it be fun if we rated the dishes like movies? Like, this one would be XXX-rated.”

He laughed. “Dirty.”

I waggled my brows like a dork, to which he pulled my cute beanie over my face.

“Jerk!” I grinned and righted my hat. “Okay, what else have you got?”

Adam received the change after paying and grabbed the paper bag. “I wanna do something spicy to crispy bacon.”

I hummed, intrigued. “Buffalo?”

“Maybe,” he replied thoughtfully. We continued up the row of vendors with the other early risers. Most at this hour wanted breakfast. “It would be a side dish. Deep-fried, perhaps.”