Recipe for Kisses Page 4

  The show was a runaway success, and Ben had enjoyed the fame and notoriety for a while. Lately he realized that being the loudest person in the room didn’t always mean he was listened to the closest. Often it only left him with a sore throat and headache.

  “I need a break,” he said finally, resisting the urge to shout the words at the top of his lungs. “I want you to clear my schedule for the summer. At least until preseason meetings start for the show.”

  “Let’s get this straight. You don’t have a location yet. You have no team or investors working with you, and you haven’t even started on the menu.” Michael snorted. “Is this a premature midlife crisis?”

  “I don’t give a shit what you call it.” Ben kicked at one of Zach’s discarded sneakers lying in the middle of the kitchen. “I’m taking my time with this, Michael. I’ve earned it.”

  The publicist bit down on his lip. “You know how fast this industry moves, right? How many hungry guys there are out there, just like you a few years ago, vying to take your spot at the top?”

  Anger bubbled in Ben at the veiled threat, but he let it wash over and through him before answering. “Maybe I’m ready to hand it over.”

  Michael looked around as if someone important might be listening. “Don’t say that to anyone but me, Ben. The food industry is a killer. You know that. They’ll smell your indecision and start circling like vultures.”

  “Go back to New York, Michael,” Ben said with a sigh.

  “You’ve got an event booked in Vegas at the end of the week.” Michael whipped the iPhone from his pocket and punched at the screen. “I can push back a few of your network appearances, but this is an industry showcase. If you cancel at this point, the gossip will be brutal.” He glanced up from the phone. “It may even send reporters after you.” He swept one arm widely around the kitchen. “We’ve been able to keep your family business under wraps, but it won’t be difficult to figure out once people start looking.”

  Ben bit back a curse. “Fine. I’ll make sure Dad’s available for the kids and I’ll do the Vegas appearance. I want some time after that, Michael. I don’t give a damn about the network or the brand. I’ve got something more to offer than screaming at people who don’t cook the way I want them to.”

  Michael gave a small laugh. “The line cooks at La Lune might disagree with you on that point. Figure it out, Ben, but don’t take too long.” He put the phone back in his pocket and headed toward the door. “Your future’s not going to wait around forever.”

  Chloe tapped a pen against the mostly blank page of the notebook on the counter.

  “Ever think of a career as a graffiti artist?” Tamara Black, who’d worked part-time for Chloe the past six months, peered over her shoulder. “You’ve got a unique style.” Tamara was brash, but her natural enthusiasm won over both Chloe and the store’s customers. She’d moved to Denver from Texas because of a breakup that had ended badly. When Chloe had first met her, Tamara had been full of bravado, from her spiked blond hair to the black leather pants she favored. Slowly she was softening, and Chloe had recently helped her enroll in a cosmetology school near downtown.

  “I’m afraid of heights,” Chloe answered absently then traced another line over the bubble letters she’d written at the top of the page. Plan for the Future was what she’d titled the list, but that was as far as she had gotten. Up until she’d made the decision to leave her husband and move to Colorado, Chloe had been content to let her life be directed by the people around her. As a girl it had been her mother’s whims. Judy Daniels had moved their tiny family all over Chicago as she switched jobs, boyfriends, and neighborhoods, always looking for her idea of the perfect life. Chloe understood her single mom was under a lot of pressure to make a life for the two of them, and it had been easier to go along with the changes rather than upset Judy’s delicate mental and emotional state.

  Maybe her mom had wanted the best for them both, but in hindsight, most of her decisions hadn’t taken Chloe into account at all. Judy had craved a happiness she’d never found with a string of deadbeat men and dead-end jobs. Her mood swings had morphed into full-blown episodes of depression that had held both of them in their grip for as long as Chloe could remember. For too many years, misery had been her mother’s primary companion. Although Chloe had vowed not to follow in her mother’s footsteps, she’d ended up living with a different sort of weight on her shoulders.

  “I like lists. They make me feel in control.”

  “You should add ‘get money’ and ‘screw Ben Haddox.’”

  Chloe jerked back as a memory of the wildly inappropriate dream she’d had last night rushed into her head. The dream had featured Ben, a blanket spread across a field of wildflowers, and the summer sun beating down on her naked skin. There was sweat and sounds and . . . lord, she could feel her cheeks burning.

  “I didn’t mean screw in the literal sense,” Tamara said with a laugh, watching Chloe. “Although that man is about as hot as they come. Have you watched any of that show of his?”

  “I’ve seen a couple episodes.” Chloe moved the notebook into a drawer as a customer approached the register. The truth was she’d binge-watched the first two seasons yesterday, perhaps accounting for the reason she couldn’t get Ben Haddox out of her mind. It sure didn’t have anything to do with her memories of Saturday night, when he’d seemed vulnerable and almost lost as he talked about his niece and nephew.

  No more lost souls.

  “He’s a total jerk,” she said to Tamara after the mother paid for her daughter’s art kit and the two left the store. “I don’t see why anyone would want to subject themselves to that sort of judgment and ridicule on camera.” Chloe didn’t bother to mention that once she’d started watching, she hadn’t been able to turn off A Beast in Your Kitchen.

  The premise was simple and not wholly original. The show featured head chefs who had a reputation for being surly and demanding in their kitchens. The staff that worked for them applied to the show and, if chosen, Ben would pay a surprise visit to the restaurant and give the chef a taste of his or her own medicine. After trading insults, and with at least half the show devoted to the featured chefs spouting off about how no one would outcook them in their own kitchens, Ben would challenge each chef to a cook-off to be judged by random customers. The tag line “Can your beast beat ours?” was a dare no one seemed able to resist.

  On the episodes she’d watched, Ben had never been bested, either while cooking or throwing down the verbal gauntlet. He seemed able to see exactly where a person’s weakness or insecurity lay then needle and push until he drove men and women to the breaking point. The only plus side Chloe noticed was that by getting a taste of their own medicine, most of the chefs featured committed to turning over a new leaf by the end of the episode.

  Those silver-lining endings did nothing to ease her nerves at the thought of Ben controlling the future of her business. If he could take down those difficult, hard-hearted chefs, what kind of damage would he do to her if she fought him on the lease?

  “He can be scary, too,” Chloe added, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “At the end of last season, he came close to a physical altercation with one of the featured chefs on the show.”

  “I thought you only watched a couple of episodes?” Tamara asked with a laugh.

  “It was hard to look away,” Chloe admitted.

  Tamara grinned. “I hear you on that.”

  “Honestly, I can’t believe they let that particular episode air,” Chloe said quietly. “Ben was totally in the other guy’s face like he was about to lose it. He’s intimidating when he doesn’t even try to be, but when he’s angry, it’s kind of terrifying. The other chef started crying, and the producers had to pull Ben away. My heart was beating a mile a minute. If he wanted to, Ben could really hurt someone.” How would she stand up to him and come out unscathed?

  “I don’t know,” Tamara said, drawing Chloe back to the present moment. “I can see why someone might be
willing to let a man like Ben Haddox do a little dominating.”

  At Chloe’s startled gasp, Tamara quickly held up her hands. “Not me, mind you. You know I learned my lesson and I got a new life now. No one’s going to lay a hand on me ever again.”

  “I never touched any of the participants on the show.”

  Both women spun around to find Ben standing directly behind them. A glance past his shoulder showed Abby and Zach looking at a display of kites near the front of the store.

  Chloe smoothed a hand over her apron. “For a big man, you are remarkably talented at sneaking up on people.”

  He flashed her a faint smile, but his eyes were serious. “I didn’t touch them,” he repeated.

  His quiet scrutiny was almost more unnerving than his shouting. “You didn’t need to,” she said with a laugh that sounded more like a nervous croak. “Your verbal evisceration was quite effective.”

  His thick brows drew down over his eyes, but before he could answer, Tamara stepped forward. “Tamara Black,” she said, reaching for his hand then pumping it in hers. “Chloe likes the big words and I don’t understand bunches of them, but let me just say I like what you’ve got going on, Mr. Haddox.”

  The smile he gave Tamara was genuine, and he nodded toward the bright pink ends of her hair. “Call me Ben, and I like what you’ve got going on, too.”

  Tamara giggled like a schoolgirl then pointed at Abby and Zach. “Those your kids?”

  “My niece and nephew.”

  Tamara nodded. “They’re cute.”

  “They’re hellions,” he muttered.

  “Must be how you know they’re part of the family.” She wagged a finger between Ben and Chloe. “I can tell you two got business, so I’m going to help those kids pick out the most expensive kite we have in stock.”

  “You go, girl,” Ben told her, earning another giggle.

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “Have them get two kites.” Ben smiled.

  “You got it,” Tamara said and walked toward the front of the store.

  “We don’t have business,” Chloe said when she was alone with Ben.

  “We absolutely have business,” Ben answered. “I heard Tamara’s comment about not letting anybody hurt her again.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Do all of the women you hire have a similar history to yours?”

  Chloe found herself busily rearranging a display of yarn-haired fairy dolls. “I haven’t . . . they don’t . . . my history isn’t . . .” She shoved several dolls to the back of a shelf. “Let’s talk business.”

  He only looked at her.

  “Please,” she said after a moment.

  “Chloe.”

  “Don’t do this, Ben.” She shook her head hard. “You don’t know me. Whatever you think you understand, you don’t. You’re trying to ruin my life, so I’d prefer to keep my skeletons in the closet.” The statement wasn’t exactly true. What she would have preferred was to launch herself at him and bury her nose in his neck to see if he still had the same irresistible smell from Saturday night.

  “My goal isn’t to ruin your life,” he said, raking one hand through his hair.

  “You’re forcing me to close the store that’s been my whole life for the past three years.”

  “This isn’t about you. I want the location.”

  “Where this toy store has been for the past twenty years?” she asked, taking a step around the counter toward him. “There are much better restaurant spaces available in the city, ones you wouldn’t need to gut and build out from the studs.”

  An emotion she didn’t recognize flashed in his eyes before he glanced away. “I want this one.”

  Staring at him for a moment, realization dawned. “This is personal to you.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll share my skeletons when you share yours.”

  She felt herself swaying toward him, just an inch, but she was actually tempted to share the secrets from her past with this huge, hot-tempered man. How was that possible? Her pulse pummeled in her ears, but it wasn’t fear that made it pump so wildly. It was arousal. This strange connection she felt with Ben was dangerous. Chloe had sworn off men since her divorce for good reason, and she still didn’t trust herself to make smart decisions when it came to her love life. It was safer to keep it nonexistent. Especially with someone like Ben Haddox.

  The bells over the door chimed and she straightened, calling out a welcome to the family who walked in. “What do you want, Ben?”

  He watched her for another moment then called over his shoulder to his niece and nephew. As Abby and Zach walked toward them, Tamara went to help the new customers. The two kids came forward like they were being led to the end of a gangplank.

  “Let’s go,” Ben growled. “Stop stalling.” Chloe jumped at the edge in his voice and Zach dropped the rubber ball he’d been holding. Abby muttered something under her breath that was definitely R rated.

  When they got close enough, Ben pulled his niece and nephew to stand in front of Chloe. “Now,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” Zach said, looking up at Chloe with blue eyes that matched his uncle’s in color but were sweet and sincere as he spoke. “I shouldn’t have put the marbles in my pocket.” He blinked several times, and Chloe tilted her head as she watched him. Was the boy batting his eyes at her? “I’ve had a hard time since my daddy went to jail,” he said with an exaggerated sniff.

  Chloe felt herself starting to melt before Ben yanked on the hood of Zach’s cotton jacket. “Too thick, buddy.” Abby snickered. “You’re up,” Ben said to the girl, poking her in the back.

  “Sorry,” the girl said through clenched teeth. “It was an accident.”

  Chloe leaned forward. “What was an accident?”

  The teenager’s mutinous gaze landed on Chloe, anger flashing in her dark eyes. “That I knocked over your stupid plastic animals. You should buy sturdier displays.”

  Ben groaned. “Abs, has anyone ever told you that less is more?” He reached around and placed a hand over the girl’s mouth. He pulled her back against his broad chest and Chloe marveled that Abby, who had been nothing but stiff and surly, actually seemed to melt against him. Chloe recognized a girl desperately in need of attention. She knew firsthand the kind of trouble a teen could find if she went looking for it.

  She wasn’t sure Ben even noticed Abby’s reaction. He simply held the girl like it was totally natural. All at once his hard edges melted away and he became not the badass celebrity chef trying to take away her life but a man struggling to hold his family together. It was the same vulnerability she’d seen Saturday night, and once again, it made her melt in a way she knew she’d regret later.

  As if they could sense Chloe’s assessment of them, Ben and Abby stepped apart. “So that part’s done,” Ben said quickly. “How much do I owe you?” He pulled a leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and started peeling hundred-dollar bills out of it. “What’s it going to take?” he asked, not meeting Chloe’s shocked stare. “Will five hundred do it?”

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Take care of the damage and whatever else . . .” He broke off as he finally looked up at her. “What did I do now?”

  Chloe crossed her arms over her chest and threw back her shoulders. Even if she’d stood on tiptoes, Ben would still tower over her, but right now her anger outpaced her normal anxiety around men. “You want to pay me off?”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said slowly, as if realizing he’d taken a misstep somewhere in the conversation. “I’m offering to pay for the damage to your store.”

  “Crappy display,” Abby muttered. “Give her twenty bucks for it.”

  Ben nudged his niece’s elbow. “Mouth. Shut.”

  Chloe looked between Abby and Ben and made her decision in an instant. “I don’t want your money,” she said, pointing at the girl. “I want her.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ben felt Abby take a small step behind him and his protective instincts kicked in, along
with his temper. He shifted so he was looming over the tiny toy store owner. “What the hell?” he yelled. “I thought you weren’t calling the cops?”

  He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see that Abby had gone pale and twitchy, like she was about to run. He took hold of her wrist, just to be safe, and swung his gaze back to Chloe. She looked nervous at his nearness, but there was something more. It was as if . . .

  “Are you holding your breath?”

  She started to nod then shook her head. “I’m trying not to smell you.”

  He bent his head and inhaled the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t—”

  “You think he’s bad now?” Zach asked with a laugh. “You should try sitting next to him after Papa makes tacos.” The boy waved a hand in front of his nose. “It’s like—”

  “Enough.” Ben cuffed Zach on the side of the head. “No spilling family secrets.” He pointed at Chloe. “I don’t smell.”

  Abby peeked around his shoulder. “He actually showered today,” she offered.

  “You smell good. It’s annoying.”

  “Would you rather I stink?” Ben asked with a chuckle. He was used to women who were experts at flirting. Yet Chloe’s backhanded compliment made his day.

  She didn’t meet his gaze as she eased back toward the register. “Never mind. I’m not involving the police,” she explained. “I want her to work off the money she owes me for the display.”

  “No. Way.” Abby jumped out from behind him. “He offered you more than it was worth. I’m not going to be your slave. That’s so unfair.”

  “Do you have other plans for the summer?” Chloe asked conversationally.