Through the reflection, he leans on the doorway, watching with a proud smile as I slip each button through their respective holes.
This man has supported me all summer, eager to help me get back to work at the level I want to be. He’s constantly reminded me what a great job I’m doing, which are words I almost forgot existed. There’s no coddling in the restaurant industry, and it’s not something I ever thought I’d need. But after two months with him, I can’t imagine working without Kai’s encouragement constantly filling the kitchen.
When I try to leave the bathroom, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in to place a single kiss on my forehead.
Leaning back, I eye him. “Did you just give me a forehead kiss while I’m wearing my chef’s coat?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’ve made grown men cry while wearing this coat.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that, but girl bosses need forehead kisses too.”
“Did you just say girl bosses?”
“Yeah, isn’t that what you kids say?”
That finally pulls a genuine laugh out of me, instantly making me feel lighter, more myself. “I refuse to believe there’s only seven years between us.”
“Come on,” he says, ushering me out of the bathroom. “Go do what you’re best at so we can get these people out of our house.”
Our house.
“And by ‘what you’re best at’ I’m referring to you standing there and looking pretty for pictures. Nothing to do with you being a badass pastry chef.”
With another laugh rumbling in my chest, Kai gives my ass an encouraging tap as he continues down the hall to the living room, leaving me in the kitchen.
“Behind the island, Chef.” Sylvia points to my starting position.
Glass bowls of dry ingredients line the counter as I find my place, standing behind the kitchen island.
“We’ll start with some action shots.” She pushes an empty glass bowl in front of me. “One at a time. Crack an egg in there.”
Sylvia turns to say something to the photographer, but all I can focus on is the living room behind them, where Kai, Isaiah, and Max watch.
Max catches my attention and points at me from behind the lens. “Mmm,” he hums, the only part of my name he’s gotten down. “Mmm!”
He squirms in Isaiah’s hold and slips his way out of his uncle’s arms, racing his way towards the kitchen. Dodging the lighting crew and photographer, he rounds the island.
“Mmm!” Max wobbles towards me, arms in the air for me to hold him.
My smile is the biggest it’s been all morning as I bend down to get him. “Hi, Bug. Come here.”
“No!” Sylvia snaps as I pick him up. “Put him down! You’ll wrinkle your coat!”
I freeze right there in the kitchen, holding Max and staring at this woman in disbelief.
“Put him down.” Sylvia turns away, speaking under her breath. “This is not a place for kids.”
I don’t move, as if hearing those words has stunned me into place. She’s not wrong. The high-end restaurant scene is no place for kids. The hours aren’t conducive, with late nights and busy weekends. And I’m realizing now, that’s exactly why I’ve been off today.
I know the life that’s waiting for me when I return, and even if I wanted to continue a relationship with Kai, to be there for Max in some capacity, I won’t be able to. There won’t be time to.
I’ve had critics and chefs fawning over me. I’ve had their attention, but now the only attention I crave is that of a little boy and his dad, but as soon as I leave Chicago, they’ll go back to their normal lives—ones that I’m not involved in.
“You are wrinkling your coat, Chef.” Sylvia gestures to me, the other hand on her hip.
Certain realizations sinking in have me beyond done with her attitude today.
“Well, that’s what photoshop is for,” I snap, holding Max closer to my body.
“I got him.” Without realizing it, Kai is at my side, pulling his son off me. “We’ll see Miller after she’s done working, okay, Bug?”
Sylvia exhales in exasperation, shaking her head and repositioning the glass bowls.
Eric the intern offers me a pitying smile while the photographer looks at the screen on her camera, smiling at the images she’s shot so far.
Then I find Kai and Max slipping out the back door to go outside again and my terrible mood is in full force.
Standing in the kitchen, an overwhelming yet terrifying realization sinks in. The possibility I was feeling this way has been there, lingering all summer, but right now it’s as if a blurry fog has lifted and the sun is shining on the truth.
There’s no part of me that wants to be in the kitchen.
I only want to be with them.
Chapter 33
Kai
Today is Miller’s birthday and it started just the way I wanted it to—with my face between her legs.
I’ve turned into a goddamn sap over the woman. So much so that, when she left to meet up with Monty for breakfast, I spent my morning in the kitchen doing what she typically does by baking her a birthday cake.
Miller tends to tell people she loves them through the food she makes, so I figured since I wasn’t allowed to tell her, I’d show her in the same way she does.
As I said, I’ve turned into a fucking sap.
But other than Miller’s birthday, it’s also Family Day. The Warriors organization opened a portion of the field off the third baseline for family and friends to mingle. The food spread is borderline ridiculous, offering any and everything someone could want, with an open bar for drinks and a photobooth for pictures.
Family Day tends to be my least favorite day on the calendar. Every team I’ve played for has hosted one. It’s a bit awkward when no one shows up for me, especially when the rest of my teammates have their siblings, partners, and parents there. But before Max, Isaiah was my only family, and he was always in the middle of his own season. Last year, we had each other and this year, we have my son.
And though Miller is technically here for Monty, I know she’s here for me too.
That notion was solidified when I parked my truck and saw her for the first time since she left my bed this morning. She had a birthday breakfast with her dad then showed up here wearing a white pinstriped Warriors jersey with my name and number on the back. It’s unbuttoned and open, paired with a tight tank and cutoff denim shorts that are doing all sorts of things for her thick thighs.
But as good as she looks, her mood has been shit since yesterday’s photoshoot and I’m not exactly sure why.
Rounding the high-top table she’s standing at, I slide my palm against her lower back. “Do you want to introduce Max to Trav’s parents with me? They’re wanting to meet him.”
She shakes her head, pulling her cocktail to her lips.
“Why not?”
“Because that’d be weird for Max’s nanny to be there while you introduce your son to your teammates’ parents.”
Head jerking back, I stare at her, but she keeps her attention straight ahead towards the outfield.
It’s beautiful out here, golden hour in Chicago. The sky is all shades of orange and yellow, and the field is cast with a warm glow. But the woman next to me is all ice tonight, vastly contradictory to the bright light she’s brought into my life this summer.
“You’re not just the nanny and you fucking know that,” I remind her in a stern whisper. “What the hell is up with you today?”
She shrugs nonchalantly and takes another sip of her drink, flipping her hair over her shoulders.
I lean down to her ear, speaking quietly. “Toss your hair over your shoulder like that again, will you. It’s giving me flashbacks to a much happier Miller with a mouth full of my cock.”
Finally, the smallest, most discreet smile pulls at her lips.
“Jesus,” I chuckle. “That’s what gets you to smile? Am I going to have to fuck the attitude right out of you, or what?”
“Probably.”
I find Max walking the length of the field with Isaiah before my attention falls back to the girl next to me. She’s got her drink mid-air on the way to her lips, but I snatch it out of her hand and finish it myself.