Cole felt his entire body tense and his cock harden at the ease she obviously now felt in touching him.

She winked up at him. “As usual, you did it perfectly. I was just thinking that this is probably the first time I will ever be in danger of sexually harassing someone in the workplace.”

“As opposed to sexually harassing them elsewhere?” Cole questioned, raising his palms to her shoulders.

Rachel slid her hands into his back pockets and continued squeezing his ass.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“I am actually.”

Cole reached behind and removed her palms from his ass. Holding her hands in his, he informed her, “Your brother told me two things tonight.”

“And what were they?”

“That I was welcome in his restaurant—”

“Our restaurant,” she corrected.

“As long as I stayed out of the way and kept my hands off the pastry chef while she worked.”

“Well, I hope you told him to get lost. You’re my husband, and you can touch me whenever you like.”

“And he’s your brother, and he’s just starting to warm up to me. I’m going to respect that,” Cole told her, taking a step back.

The look of absolute annoyance on her face made her entirely too appealing for him to be within touching range.

“So, what?” she asked incredulously. “You’re going to stand four feet away from me all night? I knew he was being way too nice. Jerk.”

With a determined look on her face, she started to move toward him, and Cole took another step back. She stopped and threw her hands up in the air. Shaking her head, she made a move to pass him.

“This is ridiculous! I’m going to go and tell Mason he can shove—”

With catlike reflexes, Cole reached out and grabbed her arm, halting her on her way out the door. As she spun back on her toes, she almost slammed into him with the force of her momentum.

“Whoa. Slow down.”

“You know, I’m surprised you’re so relaxed about this.”

Leaning down so they were on eye level, Cole informed her, “I’m not relaxed. Your damn hands gave me a hard-on, and now, I’m standing here, trying to calm it the hell down. But you, all feisty and pissed off, is not helping the issue.”

“Then, why won’t you let me go and—”

“Think of this as foreplay,” he whispered, letting his warm breath float across her lips. “Four hours of close proximity without touch.” Pressing his mouth to hers, he ended with, “Followed by seven hours of the hands-on approach.”

He felt her lips part beneath his, inviting him deeper, but Cole was determined not to piss off Mason. No matter what Rachel said, her relationship with her brother was vital. That much was obvious, and there was no way he would do anything to jeopardize it.

Raising his head, Cole released her arm and gestured to the open door. “Lead the way.”

“And you’ll follow? Yeah, right. Since when do you follow anyone’s orders?”

Cole walked with her to the door. “Since around forty minutes ago.”

“And how does that feel?”

“I fucking hate it,” Cole admitted honestly.

“You have such a filthy mouth,” she pointed out, stopping in the doorway to the busy kitchen.

Cole made sure to press his entire front to her back while keeping his hands to himself as he acknowledged, “You’re right. Maybe you can clean it for me with your tongue later.”

When she looked back at him, she seemed to have regained her sense of humor because she dropped her eyes to his mouth and seductively licked her lower lip.

“Maybe. Ask me in four hours,” she sassed and turned, walking out into her kitchen, leaving Cole to follow for the second time that night.

* * *

Three and a half hours into the dinner service, Rachel found herself once again being surprised by Cole. All evening, he had stood beside her, keeping his hands to himself, and he had followed directions, right down to, Throw this in the trash, would you?

She never would have dreamed of him being a part of this, even for one night. As he listened, comprehended, and then executed every little thing she told him, Rachel was not only buzzing from having him there, she was also extremely impressed.

The other kitchen staff had gone about their business in their usual way. Ryan had barked out the orders while the other chefs were cutting, cooking, and plating the meals. Wendy would come to the service window to let them know if they were on schedule or running behind, and the waitstaff all delivered the food to their hungry clientele in a timely fashion.

Yes, Rachel thought, tonight ran exactly the way Exquisite should, and I’m finally enjoying it in a way I haven’t for months.

Looking over to where Cole was standing by the prep table, Rachel made her way to him with a special treat in mind. He had played by the rules all night and hadn’t touched her once. Admittedly, it didn’t surprise her, given his unwavering patience and the pride he took over his self-control. Still, as far as she was concerned, that kind of annoying dedication to his cause should not go without reward.

Wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist, she stopped beside him, bumping her hip to his. “How’s it going chef?”

He looked over to her and placed the towel in his hands down on the tabletop. “Interesting.”

“Interesting good? Or interesting bad?” she pressed as she turned to rest her backside against the stainless steel.

“You’re fascinating to watch. Actually, the entire process back here is fascinating. It’s so loud and chaotic, but at the same time, it seems to run like a well-oiled machine.”

Rachel found herself liking that description because it was exactly how she felt about the kitchen. “That seems about right. I love working in the midst of chaos.”

His eyes took in her purple jacket and then moved up to the colorful hair she had pulled up and under her black cap. “Now that, I truly believe.”

“Well, we’re winding down for the night. The last orders have gone out, and I wanted to teach you something. Up for a lesson?”

His eyes narrowed on her. “What kind of lesson? Is it one I’ll regret later?”

Rachel shook her head. “Nope, it’s more a lesson of survival—for you anyway.”

She loved the confusion that came over his face because it had never happened before. She spun around and reached for a stainless steel pot from one of the shelves under the table.

Pulling it out, she walked to the back stove and placed it on one of the front gas burners. She noticed Cole had followed her over to the stove, and he seemed to be waiting patiently. That was, until he opened his mouth.

“A lesson in survival? I hardly think I will have a gas-burning stove if I am stuck somewhere needing to survive.”

Rachel rolled her eyes at his logic and sighed. “Oh, don’t be so damn literal,” she stated as she moved around him to the walk-in pantry.

She picked up all the ingredients she needed, and when she came back, she placed them beside the stove in front of him. She could see he was about to ask her another question when she asked, “Do you like apples?”

Cole paused halfway through a word that was about to come out of his mouth, and instead, he laughed. “Yes, why?”

“You’ll see,” she said in a singsong voice. She moved away from him again, but this time, she went into the fridge and returned with two Granny Smith apples. Placing them down near all the other items, Rachel winked up at him. “Okay, we need a cup and a half of sugar. Over there.” With her chin, she indicated to the large silver cylinder.

Cole picked up the cup she’d placed in front of him, and he measured the cup and a half she needed to perfection. She took the cup and dropped the contents into the pot. She turned back to him and pointed to the corn syrup. “I need a tablespoon of that.”

Silently, he poured it out, and she stood aside to let him put it into the pot.

“Okay, now, cut the lemon in half and squeeze it in.”

With a small paring knife, Cole did as she had asked and moved closer to her to squeeze the lemon juice into the pot. After that, she added in the little bit of water she needed and turned on the heat.

“What are we making?” he asked as he moved back out of her way.

Rachel began swirling the ingredients together with a flick of her wrist. “I told you, I’m teaching you how to survive…in the horrifying event that you don’t have any of your little caramel squares around.”

With her eyes on the mixture that was starting to bubble up, she felt him step closer.

“That’s going to turn into caramel?” he asked, his voice full of excitement but tinged with skepticism.

Turning her head, Rachel grinned at him. She was pleased he was so excited. “Yep, all it needs now is cream.”

Cole’s eyes moved from the amber-colored concoction back to hers.

“Cream?”

He might as well have said, Sex? Because all Rachel wanted to scream was, Yes, please! Now! Instead, she nodded and gathered her brain cells, at least what little she had left.

“Yes, I need the cream. It’s right over there.”

He turned away to pick up the container, and then he handed it to her. As she took it from him, their fingers brushed, and she was close to saying, Forget the damn caramel. The only things that stopped her were the other staff members and the knowledge that when they did get home, she could enjoy him as loudly as she wanted to with no one listening.

“Step back,” she instructed. “When I add it, it’s going to bubble up and spit.” Turning off the heat, Rachel added in the cream, and just as she had said, the mixture bubbled up to the top of the pot. Reaching over to the sticks of butter, she picked them up and put them in, all the while whisking the sweet syrup.