Dirty Chef

“Forty-one thousand, huh?” Adam murmured. “That’s all your work, love.”

I smirked to myself and kept adding things to the list. “That’s only me taking pictures of you and the restaurant. You’ve got quite the following.”

I didn’t know why I was feeding his ego. He sure as hell didn’t need it. The women commenting about the chef being hot weren’t obnoxious, thankfully. Here and there, I’d see it when I went through the comments. And it wasn’t like they were wrong.

The biggest bumps in the follower count had nothing to do with me, though. They happened whenever he was featured in a food-related magazine or he was part of some event.

“You don’t put pictures of yourself on there?” Adam wondered.

I shook my head and added one last thing to the list. “Well, there’s one, I guess. Tracy and I did a silly selfie a couple weeks ago when we were done with the veggie prep.”

“Don’t make it a habit,” Adam joked and reached for his soda. “You don’t need more men barking up your tree.”

I snorted. Sure. That made sense.

Conversation lulled for a beat while Adam watched the movie, though he didn’t seem very into it. My guess, he was forming the Valentine’s menu in his head. Making plans and whatnot.

Since I certainly didn’t have a long line of men barking up my tree, I leaned back against the cushions and logged in to Tinder to waste time and get some thumb exercise done. No one ever truly caught my eye, which was a good indication that I was way too hung up on my roommate and best friend. But a girl had to try.

Swipe left, swipe left, right, left, left, left, left…

“Can you scratch my head?”

I quirked a brow at Adam, and he didn’t wait for my response. He repositioned himself and planted his head on my lap.

“You are so spoiled.” And I was enabling it… As if I could keep my paws away from his thick, soft hair. I combed my fingers through it, and he hummed in approval. It took all my willpower not to glance down his body. The jerk still only wore that damn towel.

Refocusing on my phone, I went back to swiping men on Tinder as I used my other hand in Adam’s hair. Christ, no. This one guy had fourteen snakes. What the fuck? Swipe left.

Adam sighed.

I scratched his neck the way he loved it.

“What does it say on your profile?” he muttered. “Fuckin’ dating apps… They’re for hookups, nothing else.”

“Haven’t you seen it?” I asked. “Our town’s not that big.” I’d swiped past Adam’s profile, though I knew he’d never really been active on it. I’d been tempted to swipe right, figuring I could play it off as a joke if he brought it up, but I’d changed my mind.

“I was there for a like a week,” he grumbled. “A little to the left.”

I shifted my fingers to the left and swiped past another dude.

“Sorry—” Adam twisted his body and stole my phone, causing me to frown. “I can feel your hand moving when you swipe. It’s distracting, so I’m just gonna put it here.” He tossed it on the table. “Proceed, please.”

“Proceed, please,” I mocked, slightly annoyed. “You know, some of us want to fall in love and make cute babies.”

Adam stilled. A beat later, he turned his head and looked up at me. “You want kids?”

I’d forgotten I hadn’t been very open with this change. “Well…yes. For the past year or so, I’ve been…yeah. I mean, I’m getting ready for that. I’m not getting any younger, that’s for sure.”

His forehead creased, and I automatically smoothed a finger along his skin.

“I was wondering why you were so hopped up on Isla’s pregnancy,” he said pensively.

I peered down at him with an uncertain smile, and my stomach twisted in knots. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you babysit.”

He huffed and turned onto his side again, grabbing my hand to slide it into his hair.

He didn’t say anything else on the matter.

Four

Adam Grady

Of fucking course she was ready for kids. How had I missed this? Or thought otherwise?

I guess I’d kinda hoped she’d change her mind over the years.

For every day that passed, this fucked-up unease was growing inside me, and it was beginning to piss me off. Alessia and I had put everything into our business, and there was hardly any aspect of our lives we didn’t share. Which was exactly what I coveted, but it came with all these risks. Never had I had so much to lose.

It was only a matter of time before I lost her, then.

I didn’t know how I was gonna cope with that knowledge.

I’d done my best to suppress the fear for years already, because I’d been able to play it off as unfounded worries. Now, not a chance. My sister-in-law had given birth early this morning, and Alessia still wasn’t ready to leave the hospital.