No Funny Business (The Lennox Brothers Romantic Comedy) Page 2

  “Let me taste it,” interrupted Asher. He held out his hand for the fork. “Maybe it’s not that bad.”

  “It’s terrible.” Ignoring his hand, I dropped the fork into the sink. “Only good for the trash. Unless you’d like to invite a mortal enemy for dinner?”

  Asher leaned against one of the kitchen bar stools and folded his arms. My twin, who sometimes liked to remind me he was precisely fourteen minutes older than me, had darker hair and eyes than I did, the lines of his face were sharper, and he wore black jeans and dark shirts, while I preferred lighter colors. He was also very happily shacked up with his girlfriend Iola, while I was just as happy being a bachelor.

  Scratch that, I was happier. Being a bachelor meant being free to date lots of beautiful, interesting women, with no potential for heartbreak. Why would anyone want anything else?

  “I take it you won’t be including this recipe in your show?” Asher asked.

  “If I did, I’d have to change the show’s name. Instead of Kade Cooks, it’d be Kade Congeals.” Though I was being flippant, I was well aware I had the best job in the world, and screwing things up wasn’t on my to-do list.

  “What if you can’t come up with enough recipes for the new season?” asked Asher.

  “Then it’ll be Kade Cries. Or more likely, Kade Gets Cancelled.” I picked up a spoon to give the quinoa gloop a frustrated poke. “I need thirty-six new dishes. So far I’ve come up with four.”

  Asher wasn’t one for dramatic reactions, but he did give an extra long blink, which in Asher-language meant he was shocked.

  I dropped the spoon into the sink with the fork, and turned to the far counter to collect the dirty dishes for washing. When I turned back, Asher was standing over the stove, sampling the quinoa. My brother could move as fast and silently as Nemesis, his sneaky, thieving black cat.

  Piling the pans into the sink, I watched him try not to grimace.

  “How much do they pay you to make meals like that?” he asked.

  “They pay me not to make meals like that.”

  “Then they’re not paying you enough.”

  If we’d been twenty years younger, I might have stuck out my tongue. Instead, I folded my arms and shot him a glare. “I was experimenting with flavors. Sometimes it works. And sometimes I get to poison stubborn family members.”

  I dumped the quinoa in the trash and was chopping onions to try a new variation on the dish when there was a knock on the door. I heard Asher answering it, and then a female voice. I knew it couldn’t be Asher’s girlfriend, because when I’d dashed out to the grocery store for extra ingredients, I’d volunteered to give her and her dog a lift to her art studio.

  Sure enough, when our visitor walked alone into the kitchen, it turned out to be Carlotta, my brother Mason’s girlfriend. And she wasn’t here to see Asher, because I heard the door of his office shut as he disappeared back into it.

  “Hey Kade,” Carlotta said with a smile, sitting on one of the kitchen barstools. “What’s cooking?”

  “Have you dropped by to taste my hot sticky buns?” I made the question sound suggestive.

  Carlotta and I had a running joke where we both tried to embarrass each other. She always won. Carlotta wouldn’t blush if she were caught naked with hot sticky buns of her own. In fact, she’d be likely to take photos and post them online.

  “I’m not putting your buns in my mouth today. I’ve come to ask for a favor.” She dropped her elbows onto the counter and rested her chin on her hands.

  “A favor?” I raised my eyebrows. “So as I suspected, Mason’s not satisfying you? Sexually, I mean.”

  She smirked back at me. “Actually, he did the best thing this morning with his tongue. He was between my—”

  “Okay, okay, you win!” Laughing, I covered my ears. “I’ll do any favor you like, so long as you don’t finish that story.”

  “I win?” Her eyes gleamed. “Then you’ll do whatever I want?”

  Studying her face, I was already regretting my choice of words. “Anything within reason,” I corrected, putting the diced onions to one side and starting to slice some vegetables. “I’m not as comfortable with nudity as you are.” Nobody in the world was as comfortable with nudity as Carlotta. Her Instagram feed was proof of that.

  “Relax,” she said. “I’m not asking for anything terrible. All I want is for you to spend a day helping out at Mack’s Place. Nat needs a chef for tomorrow.”

  My hand jerked and pieces of chopped carrot rolled all over the counter.

  To cover my slip, I widened my smile, though I was pretty sure Carlotta had taken note of my reaction. “How is Natalie?” I asked in a casual tone. “I heard she was running the café on her own now?”

  “Hmm.” Carlotta cocked her head, studying my face thoughtfully. “You haven’t seen her since you guys dated, have you?”

  “It’s been a long time.” Though not all the vegetables were chopped yet, I turned to the frying pan and scooped in a big spoonful of lard. It meant Carlotta could only see my profile.

  “You know Nat’s father lost a foot to diabetes?” she asked.

  “I heard, and I’ve been planning to visit him. It’s hard to imagine Mack having to slow down.”

  “Nat’s been taking care of the café for the last couple of years. Her chef just left and she has a big lunch booking tomorrow. It’s an emergency. Nat’s planning to cook for twenty-eight people herself.”

  “She’s going to cook?” I spun to face Carlotta, my voice rising incredulously. But it’d been so many years since I’d seen Nat, everything could have changed. “So she’s a lot better at it now than she used to be, I take it?”

  “Not even a little.” Carlotta made a face. “I don’t know how someone who practically grew up in a café could be such a terrible cook. She desperately needs your help.”

  I threw the vegetables into the lard and listened to them sizzle. “Did Nat send you here to ask for help?”

  Carlotta shook her head. “She doesn’t even know you’re in town. I thought I’d better talk to you before I give her the good news.”

  Seeing as Carlotta was Nat’s best friend and was dating my brother, there was a pretty good chance I’d be forced to see Nat eventually. But I was in no hurry.

  Nine years after Nat turned her back on me, I still thought about her far too often. No matter how many dates I’d been on, I didn’t seem able to forget her. And seeing her again might make it worse.

  “Listen, I’d like to help, but I have to come up with a whole lot of new recipes for my new season, and—”

  “Working at Mack’s Place might give you the inspiration you need for your show,” Asher interrupted from the door. He walked into the kitchen and leaned on the counter next to Carlotta. “This could be the answer you’ve been looking for.”

  I shot him a frown. My twin brother knew my history with Nat. Sure the two of us liked to play jokes on each other, but Asher should know where the line was. My past with Nat wasn’t something I was willing to joke about.

  “Like I said, I’d help if I could.” I made my tone regretful but firm, turning back to the frying pan to stir the vegetables.

  Still Carlotta persisted. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t a bad situation. Natalie’s really stuck. Her dad’s in an assisted living center, and she’s been paying his bills. She can’t afford to close the café.” She leaned in, her expression earnest. “If you won’t do it for Natalie, will you do it for Mack?”

  I winced. Mack had been my mentor, and the things he’d taught me had launched my career. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for Mack.

  “You’d have to be heartless to say no,” Asher remarked. “Mack was like a second father to you.”

  I frowned at him again, because I suspected he was enjoying this.

  “Mason would give his shirt to anyone who needed it, and I’m pretty sure you two are the same.” Carlotta looked from Asher to me. “Nat really does need your help, Kade. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t i
mportant.”

  I let out a sigh. My resolve to refuse was weakening.

  Spending time with Nat would be painful, but nobody needed to know how much she’d hurt me. Maybe I wasn’t quite as good as hiding my feelings as Asher, but our past had made me better at it than most. And after three seasons of Kade Cooks, I’d learned a few things about acting.

  Besides, maybe Asher was right, and working in the place where I’d learned how to cook would help me get back the inspiration I so badly needed.

  “All right.” I sounded as reluctant as I felt. “You win.”

  Carlotta grinned and jumped off her stool. “Great. Let’s go over there now and give Nat the good news.”

  Asher’s lips twitched up, which for him was as good as a belly laugh. If I stuck around, he’d probably smirk annoyingly at me for the rest of the day.

  Turning off the stove, I dumped the frying pan in the sink and ran cold water into it so the fat would congeal into a nasty mess.

  “Sure.” I turned to my brother. “You don’t mind cleaning all this up while I’m gone, do you Ash?”

  At least I made his smirk disappear.

  I took the brief drive to the café as a chance to brace myself to see Nat again. Not that I still had feelings for her, or was even likely to still be attracted to her after all these years. Seeing her again would probably turn out to be what I needed to get her out of my head for good. And even if I did feel some kind of residual sentiment left over from our time together, I could put on a smile so casual, nobody would ever guess.

  No need to make a big deal out of this.

  Carlotta led the way into the café, where Nat was cleaning the cabinet that usually held cakes.

  She was wearing a face mask, rubber gloves, and baggy coveralls splattered with grime that disguised her luscious figure. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, but long wisps had come loose and were waving around her head like alien antennae. Her glasses were smeared with grease, and she had dirty black smudges on her face.

  She straightened, turning toward us and squinting like she could barely see us. At the same time, a large black hole opened up in my chest and my heart sank slowly into it.

  In Nat’s disheveled state, only an idiot would be painfully attracted to her.

  Which officially made me dumber than a box of broken crayons.

  Chapter Three

  Natalie

  I blinked at the shapes who’d come into the café. I’d managed to smear so many cleaning products onto my glasses, they were both indistinct blurs.

  “Nat, I’ve solved your problem.” It was Carlotta’s voice.

  Pulling my rubber gloves off, I squinted at the blur behind her. It was definitely a dark haired man. And he had a scent so delicious, I could even detect it over the astringent smell of the cleaning products.

  It was a scent I recognized.

  My heart sped up and I fumbled with my glasses, my fingers suddenly clumsy. When I pulled the smeared lenses away from my eyes, the man was less blurry.

  My fears were confirmed.

  “Ta da!” Carlotta lifted both arms in a theatrical flourish. “I’ve brought you a chef and he’s here to save the day!”

  “Hey Nat.” Kade gave me a friendly smile.

  I gaped back at him.

  Even without my glasses, he was undeniably gorgeous. And the sight of his smooth, angular jaw took me instantly back to when I was twenty. Though Kade was almost clean shaven now, my fingers prickled as I remembered running them over his short beard. Back then, my hands had wandered freely over the curves of his biceps, traced the lines of his shoulders, and explored the ridges in his stomach.

  Kade wasn’t just a regular memory for me, but a muscle memory of the most vivid kind. One that had been kept painfully fresh by my masochistic need to watch his show.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything, Nat?” Carlotta was examining my expression curiously. I must have been gaping silently at Kade for an awkwardly long time.

  “Um. Hi,” I said hoarsely, and cleared my throat. Remembering my glasses, I tried cleaning them on my dirty coveralls.

  “I hear you need a chef.” Kade leaned against one of the café's tables, as relaxed as if he barely remembered me and hadn’t thought of me in years. Which was almost certainly the case, especially if he’d been busy dating all the women he was constantly being photographed with.

  “He’s going to cook for you tomorrow,” said Carlotta.

  “Oh no.” I shook my head firmly, horrified by the thought of having to spend an entire day being reminded of how much I used to like being with him, and how painful it had been to let him go. “Thank you, Kade, but I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You have twenty-eight people coming for lunch,” said my so-called best friend, who seemed determined to force me into it.

  “That’s okay. I can manage.” I realized I was still polishing my glasses on my coveralls and put them on. Unfortunately, being able to see more clearly only made Kade’s presence even more unsettling. He was so gorgeous, he was impossible to look away from. And when he smiled, his cheeks dimpled in the most irresistible way.

  Apparently when he’d first appeared on TV, the demand for dimple creation surgery had gone through the roof.

  “No offense, Nat, but I can’t let you cook.” Carlotta folded her arms, her expression stubborn. “People could die.”

  Kade pushed away from the table he’d been leaning against and walked to the counter so he could look through the serving hatch into the kitchen.

  “I have some recipes to come up with for the new season of my show,” he said. “I’ve never been so inspired as when I used to work here. Spending a day in your kitchen could work well for both of us.”

  I was starting to object again when my phone rang. Pulling it out of my pocket to send the call to voicemail, I saw it was Emmy Eaves.

  The real estate agent I’d listed the café for sale with had never called me before. Could she possibly have news?

  Theoretically, selling a building and business in a popular tourist destination like San Dante should be a breeze. But the building had been built as a prohibition distillery at the turn of the nineteenth century. Dad had converted it into a café when he opened Mack’s Place forty-two years ago, but since then, the building had been designated a historical structure. If anyone wanted to make changes now, they’d have to apply for a Cultural Heritage Permit, a process complicated and expensive enough to put most buyers off.

  Not to mention that Mack’s Place had gone downhill in the two years since Dad hadn’t been in the kitchen, so our books showed our profits going in the wrong direction.

  It wasn’t exactly an enticing package.

  Which is why my heart was racing at seeing Emmy’s name appear on my phone’s screen.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Kade and Carlotta. “I need to take this.” In a daze, I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Natalie? It’s Emmy. I’ve had a call from a couple who are interested in buying the café. They want to come in tomorrow to have a look around, and I suggested I bring them at three o’clock, when you’ll be closing for the day.”

  “Three o’clock.” It wasn’t agreement so much as a stunned repetition of what she’d said.

  “Good news, right?” Emmy sounded cheerful. “You can polish the silverware in the meantime, to make the best possible impression.”

  “They know about the historical building restrictions?” I sounded hoarse, and not just from the fire extinguisher chemicals lingering in my throat.

  “I filled them in.”

  “And they’ve looked at the books?”

  “Of course.” She sounded like she was going to hang up.

  “Wait. Emmy, does it have to be tomorrow?”

  “You want to delay showing them the café?” Her tone made it clear what she thought of that idea. “Seeing as this is the first interest you’ve had in—”

  “Never mind. Tomorrow’s fine. Wonderful, even. N
o problem at all.”

  “Great,” she said. “See you then.”

  I hung up feeling dizzy. The possibility someone might buy the café so I could pay off the loan and hopefully go back to Chicago to resurrect my journalism career was burning through my brain like an inferno through a gas station.

  Because the café's books weren’t impressive, the café itself had to look good when they arrived. It had to seem full of potential, like it wouldn’t be too hard for the new owners to turn the business around and revive its glory days.

  And maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for me to attempt to cook for the group who’d be celebrating their anniversary. The buyers might have second thoughts if the café was littered with corpses.

  Kade had clearly heard at least my side of the conversation. “You’re trying to sell the café?” He sounded surprised. “Does Mack know?”

  “Dad’s in denial, but I have to sell. I have no choice.” I swallowed hard. Kade seemed to have put our history behind him. I’d have to do the same.

  “Could I please take you up on your offer?” I asked. “Will you help me in the café tomorrow?”

  “Of course.” His dimples reappeared. I’d heard a rumor his production company had insured them for a million dollars each, and when I was in their presence it was easy to believe.

  “We’ll get the place humming so it looks busy when the buyers get here,” Kade added. “Give them a good first impression.”

  I let out a relieved breath. We were on the same wavelength, and it felt great to have another ally. “Thank you. That would be great.”

  “I’ll start by restocking your cabinet.” Kade motioned to the empty cabinet that usually held cookies, muffins, and cakes.

  “Oh no. It’d take too long to refill, and we’d only have tonight to do it.”

  His eyes sparkled. “I can fill your cabinet tonight. Don’t worry, it’ll be good for both of us.”

  It sounded dirty, like a euphemism for having sex. And it wasn’t just me who thought so, because Carlotta snickered.