He rubbed his hand over his jaw and grinned. “Honestly? I just needed an excuse to get you back here. Plus, I like watching you work.”

Her chuckle danced over him. “I should have known.” She tossed the camera back in the bag, then glanced at him and a slow grin broke across her face. The type of grin that slowly crept along her cheeks and formed shallow laugh lines at the corner of her eyes. “What’re you thinking?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked in a low voice.

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“I was thinking that I want to kiss you.” Or, better yet, take you to bed.

The smile on her face froze, then fell a fraction. Had he shocked her? Said too much and scared her away? Maybe he should have blown smoke and pretended that she didn’t affect him. Pretend that he didn’t want to wrap those long legs around his hips.

Yeah, right. You couldn’t pretend otherwise if you had a gun to your head.

“So now tell me what you’re thinking.” He silently prayed it was along the same lines as his thoughts, so he didn’t sound like a creepy bastard.

Elisa leaned back in the booth and gazed at him from beneath long lashes. “I’m thinking that you’re a very dangerous man, Brody McDermott.”

He was dangerous? She obviously had no idea of her own power.

But before either of them could say anything else, or before he could drag her from the restaurant to a dark corner somewhere, their food was delivered. The server set a chicken Caesar wrap in front of Elisa.

Brody glanced at the dish, then up at Theresa. “Where did this come from? We don’t have wraps on the menu.”

Theresa shrugged her shoulders and set Brody’s dish down. “Anthony made it.” She spun on her heel, but Brody made a rapid grab for her arm, stopping a hasty retreat.

“What’s Anthony doing in the kitchen?” he demanded. Anthony was the bartender slash mix master. The man really had no reason to be in the kitchen.

“I think Vic and Stanley needed help and Anthony stepped in. He threw these together for you.” She gave a pointed look at his hand wrapped tightly around her forearm.

Brody loosened his grip. “He’s in there right now, cooking?”

“Yeah.”

He shot a look at Elisa, who slowly chewed a bite and swallowed. “This is incredible,” she stated. “Try some.”

She held the food across the table, offering to feed him like they were on some romantic date. Maybe he’d bypass the wrap and take a nibble out of her hand. In order to seem like a normal guy and not some obsessed psycho, he took what she offered, getting a piece of seasoned chicken, tomato, and crisp lettuce. The dressing was tangy but not overwhelming.

Overall, incredible. Just as Elisa said.

“Can I go to my other tables now?” Theresa asked with a thumb over her shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry. Go ahead,” Brody said absently. He grabbed Elisa’s hand, noting how much softer and smaller it was than his. “Come on,” he said to her as they exited the booth and he tugged her along beside him to the kitchen.

Her long legs ate up the ground as quickly as his did. In the kitchen, he immediately spotted Anthony, doing something with a sweet potato. Was he making sweet potato fries? How in the world did he even know how to do that? The man had never shown any inclination for food or cooking.

Brody kept Elisa’s hand in his, because, really, he didn’t want to let her go. It felt right to have her tucked so close to him.

Anthony glanced up when they approached. Was that a flicker of alarm that flashed in his eyes? “Sorry, man. I’ll be out of here in a minute. Vic needed a hand, then I wanted to make myself some lunch.”

“So Vic asked you to make our meals just now?” Brody asked.

The bartender shot him a look out of chocolate brown eyes. Beads of sweat dotted the man’s smooth head. “Uh, yeah. I hope that’s not a problem.”

A problem? He thought throwing together a wicked tasty chicken Caesar wrap was a problem? Brody reluctantly dropped Elisa’s hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “The only problem is that I had no idea you could cook like that.”

Anthony’s hands stalled for a brief moment. He shot an uncertain look at Elisa, then at Brody. “You liked it?”

Elisa stepped forward. “It was delicious. And where did you learn how to spiral slice a cucumber like that?”

The other man’s thick shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. “Just taught myself.”

After RJ’s departure from the restaurant, Brody had put out an ad for a new bartender, which Anthony had answered within days. Brody later had learned the burly black man was an ex–air force pilot with a quiet disposition and swift hands. Over time, Anthony had proved himself a reliable and valuable employee, one whom Brody was proud to have on staff.

“Did you learn how to do that in the military?” Brody asked the man.

“Nah,” Anthony replied with a shake of his head. “When I was young, my mom worked two jobs, which left me at home in the evenings by myself. I started experimenting with food and just sort of learned as I went along.”

Was he serious? The kind of food he’d just served them wasn’t something someone just taught themselves how to do. The man had some serious skills.

“Have you ever worked in a kitchen before?” Elisa asked.

“Just at home,” Anthony answered.

“But here you are, helping out Vic and Stanley,” Brody pointed out. “Do you do that often?”

“No. Well, Travis used to let me sneak back here and make myself some lunch.”

Elisa picked up a sweet potato. “Are you making sweet potato fries?”

Anthony stopped peeling the potato and glanced at Elisa. “Yeah. I made them at home one day because I didn’t have any regular potatoes. They turned out pretty good.”

If his wrap was anything to go by, “pretty good” would be an understatement.

Brody gestured toward sliced tomato and marble rye bread. “And what are you doing with this?”

“I’m making a BLT,” the other man answered.

Elisa lifted a brow. “On marble rye?”

Brody didn’t even think it was possible, but the big ex-pilot actually blushed. “I know it’s not usual for a BLT, but it’s really good.”

“You put avocados on it?” Brody asked with a nod toward the green vegetable.

“That’s for guacamole.” Anthony glanced at Brody, then Elisa. “And I spread some cream cheese too.”

“Cream cheese and guacamole?” Elisa repeated.

Brody wasn’t sure yet, but he could be sitting on a gold mine. In the form of a soft-spoken ex–air force pilot who poured drinks for a living.

“Can you plate this so Elisa can take some pictures?”

A startled look passed across Anthony’s face. The guy looked like he wanted to bolt in the other direction.

Elisa, bless her gentle heart, placed a hand on the other man’s arm. “I promise the pictures won’t get published. I just want to see what they look like on film.”

Anthony hesitated, then gave a slow nod.

Elisa’s face broke out in a triumphant grin, right before she spun around and pushed through the kitchen doors. She returned a moment later with her camera bag. “All ready,” she said, a little breathless.

Was she as eager as Brody to see what else Anthony had up his sleeve?

One side of Brody’s mouth kicked up. “You’re on, bro.”

He and Elisa stood while the bartender went to work, with slightly trembling hands, Brody noted. Was it possible Anthony was nervous? What could cause nerves like that when the man was such a natural with food? At the same time, he moved through the motions like someone born to be in a kitchen. He flowed with effortless grace that amazed even Brody, and he’d worked with a lot of chefs. A tiny glimmer of hope sprang in his chest as he watched Anthony plate the sandwich, arranging it just so, then adding the sweet potato fries he’d made.

“Wow,” Elisa breathed, as she turned the plate and inspected the dish. “You’ve really never had professional training? This is all self-taught?”

Anthony moved one shoulder in a restless shrug. “Took a lot of years. And it’s something I’m still working on.”

“You know my father just fired Travis, right?” Brody asked him. When Anthony nodded, Brody pressed on. “So, we’re shorthanded in the kitchen.”

Anthony rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, while Elisa snapped pictures. “Yeah, but I don’t think—”

“Anthony, you’re good,” he encouraged when he sensed the other man’s hesitation. “I don’t think you realize how good you are.”

“I’ve never cooked for anyone before.” Anthony shook his head, and Brody could practically feel the other man’s panic. “I-I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“What else can you make that isn’t on the menu?” Elisa asked in between shots.

“Uh… well, I have a recipe for cream of sweet potato soup.”

Elisa set the camera down and leaned against the prep counter. “What if Brody were to put that on as a special tonight? And that could be your thing? You make only the soup, and that way you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by doing too much too soon. You could pretend you’re cooking for yourself.”

Damn, but Brody could kiss her. And he would have if they hadn’t been in the middle of the kitchen. Her suggestion was freakin’ brilliant, and he was kicking himself for not coming up with it on his own.

“What do you say?” he asked Anthony.

The big man’s chest puffed out as he considered his options. And Brody held his breath as though waiting for a life-changing decision. Well, considering the mess he was in, he supposed one could consider it sort of life changing.

“I have no training in a professional kitchen,” Anthony started with a shake of his head. “I don’t know how stations work or how to read tickets…” His words trailed off as more dots of sweat bubbled on his shaved head.