Skye: BOOM. She kinda has a point there.
Dee: Says Faith who MARRIED her childhood sweetheart!
Faith: And thank god I did! He doesn’t care about first, second, or third date rules. He’s a take what he wants kind of guy.
Gilly: Ezra is an any way he can get it guy.
Dee: Eww.
Faith: Double eww. That’s our brother.
Gilly: Yep. And thank god for him.
Dee: Have any of you got some actual advice? I’m on the verge of freaking out. What if I screw up the risotto and he thinks I’m all show and no substance?
Renee: Babe, he calls you sweet cheeks. According to Marco, that’s not a Rhodes thing to do. He’s also whistling at work.
Skye: It’s true. Rhodes isn’t a whistler. He might hum along to some song on the radio or something, but he doesn’t whistle like he’s a man who’s got the girl.
Dee: He hasn’t got me yet.
Gilly: Not what I heard.
Renee: Not what I SAW.
Dee: Damn.
Faith: Busted.
Skye: Haha, this is gold. Delilah Baker, one word: RELAX. And another word: ENJOY. Rhodes wants you, not your damn risotto.
Faith: In all fairness, Skye. It is a damn good risotto.
Skye: Damn. See, if I send Cohen to the restaurant, can we buy your best offering?
Dee: Sure.
Faith: Skye, can you still see your toes? ’Cause after Dee’s risotto, you won’t be able to.
Surprisingly, I’m a lot less tense after that little five-minute pep talk. And Skye is right. Rhodes is not with me because of the videos or the profile or the rave reviews about the most popular rice dish on my menu. I know that. It was a momentary speed wobble. A little self-esteem reality check. Maybe it’s because I really like Rhodes. It’s been a long time since I’ve doubted my ability to deliver a mouthwatering, rave-about-it-for-days meal for anyone I’ve cooked for.
I may not have seen Rhodes coming into my life the way he did, and I certainly didn’t expect my brother to set us up together, but I have absolutely zero regrets about it now. He makes me smile, he makes me laugh, he turned me on with an almost kiss, and then definitely delivered on everything he promised at the end of the night.
He’s smart, he’s honest, and he’s a good dad. Oh, and he wasn’t a dick to Flynn, which means he got my ex-husband’s tick of approval. Apparently that’s a thing.
Which makes me wonder if I’d have gotten Rhodes’s wife’s acceptance too? I don’t let myself go too far down that path, because I haven’t asked about her yet. And Rhodes hasn’t said much about her either. I’m hoping tonight could allow us to broach the subject. I think it’s important, for him and for me. Maybe I’ll bribe him with Jake’s doggy bag.
With a quick time check, I quickly make the rounds and touch base with Suzy, then move toward my filming kitchen and get the risotto started. I leave it to cook before waiting for Rhodes to arrive at the back door, which he does, not even a minute late.
When I lay eyes on him, I instantly feel a whole lot better for seeing him. “Hey.”
He smiles and steps in, looking over my shoulder before wrapping an arm around my waist, holding his hand against my hair, and lowering his head. Then he’s kissing me surely, thoroughly, and only pulling away when I sag against him. “Hey. How are you?”
“A hell of a lot better now.” I run my hand down his chest and lace my fingers with his, feeling lighter than I have all week. It’s funny how being around someone can lift your mood. Although in Rhodes’s case, it’s just the thought of him lately. I’m like a giddy teenager. It would almost be embarrassing if I wasn’t enjoying it so much.
He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Funny that. I am too.”
“Let’s see if I can make you feel even better,” I say before leading him along the hallway and through the open door to my filming kitchen. “Welcome to the chef’s private dining room.” I stop to close the door behind us, letting him walk inside and look around as I engage the lock. I follow him over to the big stone-covered center island that doubles as a workstation, and watch him run his palm over the countertop.
“You film in here, don’t you? I recognize it.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot you’re a fan,” I tease.
He glances over at me with a wry smile as I move to the other side of the bench.
“You might say that. Is that a bit weird for you?”
“If you’d stalked me, I’d make you wait for my cooking.”
His eyes widen. “I didn’t—”
I wink at him and giggle. “I’m joking. Besides, you’re far too cute to let a little fan-boying hold me back.”
“I’m going to have to watch myself around you,” he replies with a shake of his head. “Something tells me you’re gonna keep me on my toes for a while.”
I beam at his intimation that he plans on whatever this is between us going on for ‘a while.’ “Mayyybe . . .”
“Right, now tell me what I can do to help.” He starts rolling his shirt sleeves up and moving around to join me.
It shocks me—but given it’s Rhodes, I don’t know why I’m surprised. “No, no. This is supposed to be me cooking for you.”
He rests his hands on my hips and turns me toward him. “Would you deny me the chance to assist the Dee Duncan in her kitchen?”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .”
After bringing his face closer, he brushes his lips against mine. “Let me help you, sweet cheeks. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
Rhodes might’ve been a fan of mine, but I’m fast becoming an equally big fan of his, especially if he keeps touching me every chance he gets. Cupping his face in my hands, I flex my fingers against his stubbled cheeks and smile. “Will you help me
