I roll my eyes. “Okay, okay. As long as you know you can talk to me anytime, yeah?”
Jake places his hand on my arm. “Dude, relax. I’m cool, you’re cool, Dee’s cool. Don’t screw it up, and I’ll be happy.”
“Why do you think I’ll be the one to screw it up?”
“’Cause times change, old man. My job is to help you get up with the times.”
I laugh at that. “Right. Good to know you’ve got my back, kid.”
“Always.” He smirks before putting his bottle of water down and moving to his feet. “But I won’t complain if you bring me home some of Dee’s cooking after your date. Just saying.”
I snicker. “Duly noted.”
“I mean . . . it’s only fair, right? Call it payment for services rendered.”
My lips twitch and I lift my brow. “Right. So, it’s gonna cost me to get your sage dating advice?”
He shrugs. “Hey, it’s cheaper than a hooker, Dad.”
Then he’s walking away, leaving me speechless.
Rhodes: Hey, sweet cheeks. How’s your night going?
Dee: Hey. It’s good. Chilling with Harvs at home after teaching him how to make potato gnocchi with a pesto cream sauce.
Rhodes: Damn. Do you offer lessons? ’Cause I know a sixteen-year-old who loves to eat. Would be great if he could cook as well. Haha.
Dee: I would for Jake. He already asked me at the BBQ.
Rhodes: Shit. He doesn’t waste time, does he?
Dee: It was after he told me to go easy on you.
Rhodes: And how’s that going for you?
Dee: After the way you kissed me last Sunday, I’m starting to think there’s nothing rusty about you at all.
Rhodes: You’re not too bad yourself.
Dee: Good to know. Feel free to leave a Yelp review online for future kissing recipients.
Rhodes: Grr.
Dee: I knew I’d get the caveman to make an appearance.
Rhodes: If you’re not careful, he’ll come out next time I see you.
Dee: I’ll look forward to it. I’ve designed a special menu for our date on Monday.
Rhodes: Care to share?
Dee: Oh no. That would ruin the surprise.
Rhodes: You could serve me boxed mac and cheese, and I’d still enjoy it
Dee: I’m screwing my nose up right now. You do know you’re dating a chef, right?
Rhodes: Haha. I was trying to be charming.
Dee: You don’t have to try, honey. You probably charm the pants off women without breaking a sweat.
Rhodes: I wouldn’t know. Might be interested in testing that theory with you though.
Dee: Damn. Is it Monday yet?
Rhodes: Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks.
Dee: And there you go again. Good night. Stay safe at work tomorrow. I have plans for you, Rhodes Anderson.
Rhodes: I have plans for you too, Dee Duncan.
Dee: Can’t wait. And, Rhodes . . .
Rhodes: Yeah?
Dee: Can’t wait to taste my cooking on your lips either.
Yep. Dee Duncan has me hook, line, and sinker. And I, for one, am not complaining.
Lils, I’ve got a live wire on my hands. Lucky for me, you got me used to it. Lucky for me, I have a chance of getting used to it again.
Chapter 10
Dee
Rhodes: This is Jake. I know Dad won’t ask, but I have no shame. If you make anything good, PLEASE take pity on me and send a doggy bag home. I promise I’ll love it. Especially if it’s that risotto and your chocolate lava cake you demonstrated online today. That looked AMAZING.
Rhodes: Although, kinda weird when I know the title ‘From First Date to First Mate: How to Turn Him on With Food’ is about my dad.
Rhodes: Also, this message will self-destruct, because I cannot have Dad knowing I hacked his phone again. He’s running out of pin combinations that he’ll still remember. Take pity on him. He’s old.
Rhodes: Wait . . . not THAT old. I mean . . . he’s hot for a thirty-nine-year-old, right? Okay, I’m going now, ’cause he’s just getting out of the shower, which means phone fun time gone. BYE.
The first text stops me in my tracks. The second and third throw me over the edge and have me laughing my butt off as I walk out of my office and toward the front of house to check-in. I managed to squeeze in a quick shower and outfit change too, because there’s a difference between serving guests in chef whites and trying to impress the man you want to kiss again—maybe more than kiss again—on a date where you’re cooking for him.
And why the hell am I nervous about making Rhodes a meal tonight? I’ve cooked for politicians and royalty—well, it was some third cousin twice removed—and even celebrities. I’ve made dishes for other chefs I’ve admired and looked up to for years. Yet cooking for Rhodes for the first time has me on edge?
Knowing I need to calm down, and with thirty minutes to go before he’s due to arrive, that leaves me with two options: drink or call someone to give me an ego boost.
I save the former as a last resort and opt for door number two in the form of a group text recently formed between Renee, Skye, Gilly, and Faith.
Dee: Quick. Someone tell me I’m the best chef you’ve ever met.
Faith: What do I get out of this text-a-compliment service?
Skye: Your buffalo wings were pretty damn good.
Faith: Skye, you’re pregnant. You’re at the ‘eat anything’ stage.
Skye: Amen to that.
Renee: Dee, that man would eat anything and everything you offer up to him on a plate.
Skye: That’s what she said!
Renee: Oh my god, I didn’t mean THAT.
Skye: Why not? I would mean that. Tonight’s the third date, isn’t it?
Faith: Technically the second. BBQ with firehouse and family doesn’t count.
Skye: True. No chance for anything sexy to go down at my place. So, second date rules apply then. Easy peasy.
Dee: Wait, there are rules for different dates? When did that become a thing?
Faith: Probably around the time you were graduating high school and
