Forbidden: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

Though, with the frequency with which my eyes were drifting to that belt recently, I might have actually picked up on a few things. I wasn’t about to admit it to anyone else, but I couldn’t help but notice Noah was gorgeous. He towered over me, and his body was nothing but hard, chiseled muscle from the work he did. Some people would probably say his dark brown hair was just a bit too long, but I was having trouble not running my fingers through it.

Then there were his eyes. They glared at me far more often than not, but the honey color was so sexy I’d entertained a thought or two about enjoying him with my evening tea. Even the fact that he was about ten years older than me was somehow hot, like he was just a little bit forbidden.

But Noah did a fantastic job of scrubbing those thoughts right out of my mind with his insufferable attitude.

How could someone that hot be that miserable to be around?

Maybe there was some sort of cosmic quota going on. He was so good to look at he couldn’t be pleasant to be around too. It would throw off some sort of balance, like the butterfly effect.

This was definitely one of those moments when those butterfly wings were flapping, sending ripples of pissed-off aggravation right my way.

“The tables are made out of steel, so they are easily washable and don’t retain contaminants. You don’t cut directly on the table. We’ll need butcher blocks that can be easily cleaned or silicone sheets that can be put through the wash,” I said.

The idea of having a dedicated prep area in a cooled room was a dream. It meant delicate ingredients wouldn’t be at risk, and prep didn’t have to be rushed. Certain dishes could be put together ahead of time and left safely in the cold prep area rather than being crowded into coolers. That would make events such as weddings or banquets far easier to manage.

But it would only work out if we had the proper equipment and facilities. Noah seemed to be dedicated to making that as difficult as possible. I had already explained this concept to him a couple of times, but he resisted me all the way.

Derek came into the kitchen, and Noah immediately crossed to him.

“What do you think about integrating a cutting board into the table in the cold prep area you want?” he asked.

Irritation rippled up my spine, and I balled my fists at my sides, then took a few deep breaths to try to calm myself enough to unfurl them. I was trying not to give in to the aggravation and maintain as steady and healthy a working environment as possible.

Which was never easy in a kitchen but was particularly challenging when dealing with someone like Noah.

Derek shook his head. “No. That wouldn’t work. It needs to be able to be easily cleaned. Steel tables. Butcher blocks. Silicone mats.”

Noah nodded like it was the first time he’d heard any of those words, and I thought I was going to explode. Not that this was a new exchange. It had been going on in various different forms all week.

Even though I wouldn’t officially start at the restaurant as Derek’s sous chef for a few more weeks, I agreed to spend as much time there as possible helping him build up the kitchen and prepare the menu. It was a lot of work, but I was enjoying it. In fact, it had been more fun than I even expected. I’d worked in several impressive restaurants, but they were already established by the time I came in. I was getting the opportunity to witness this one from the very beginning.

There were some bare bones to work with, and Derek had been getting my input and opinion about nearly all the decisions he was making. With everything from the type of equipment we should have to the direction of the menu, we had been making decisions together.

Having him ask me to help him that way made me feel important and reassured me my decision to work with him was the right one. He obviously valued my insight and respected my knowledge and experience. He also wanted to make sure I was comfortable and felt the kitchen staff would thrive in the new environment.

One of the most important parts of Derek handling these decisions with me alongside him was the fact that it humbled him. It showed he was willing to admit he didn’t know everything, and that he could benefit from the way someone else saw a situation. Getting my help meant he was open to creating something that was ideal not just for himself as the executive chef, but for all those working with him. That was significant. It showed his character and how deeply he valued this place.