she was naked in the bathtub while talking to him on the phone. He was still patting himself on the back for his brilliant decision to hire her. She was soon going to be in very close proximity to continue exactly what they’d started.
Cole put down his knife and grabbed a spoon out of the cylindrical holder. He removed the Saran Wrap and dipped it inside, scooping up a mouthful.
Before he tasted, Jack said, “Potato and asparagus. It should still be warm.”
Cole’s surprised look was a little unnerving. Jack was no rookie—he was just as good a chef as his three brothers. But his brother’s surprise turned into a smile. “This is great.”
“Like I said, inspired.”
Cole reached for another spoon and headed to the steel pot that contained the second soup.
“White bean and pancetta.”
Cole took another spoonful. “Does this have anything to do with Sterling?”
“I enjoyed Sterling’s company.”
Cole studied the soup instead of making eye contact. “Looked like you two got to know each other very well, and this one—” he swallowed and pointed with his spoon to the pot “—is even better.”
Jack beamed. About the soup, not about the confession he had to make. “Actually”—admitting this was going to be difficult—“we didn’t have sex.”
Cole threw the dirty spoons into the deep sink. “Two years ago, Sterling wouldn’t have stood a chance against your charm.” He wiped his hands on his white chef’s coat. Cole Miller, Executive Chef was embroidered in black across his left pec.
“We were interrupted.” He leveled his gaze. Damn that phone call.
“Sorry, bro. I couldn’t stop Penn from sweeping the boat.” Cole shrugged, showing no care or responsibility for Penn’s actions.
“Actually, there was a second interruption. She had an emergency and had to go.”
Cole laughed. “That’s a classic brush-off, if you ask me.” He returned to the island and picked up his knife to finish chopping. “Maybe you’ve just lost your touch.”
“It was a real emergency.” He had confirmed it on the phone that morning. Besides, Sterling didn’t seem like the type to take her orgasms and run.
“Gentlemen.” Finn wandered into the kitchen, his wide smile a huge contrast to the reaper on his black T-shirt.
Neil dragged behind him, buttoned up in a suit and tie. “Jack? What are you doing here?” He headed straight to the dishwasher where his favorite black coffee mug with the chip at the bottom waited for him.
Jack gestured to the cart. “I made a special delivery.”
“Jack’s been up all night making soup,” Cole said, the suspicion in his voice apparent.
“Why don’t I get any special deliveries?” Finn peeked inside the metal pots. “What’s cooking? I’m starving.”
“Imagine that,” Neil said, as he poured himself a cup of coffee, then settled his back against the counter. “Finn’s hungry.” Jack found it rather odd that Neil could be so casual when his life was in such obvious distress, despite his responsible nature. He disappeared most nights, nowhere to be found, unable to be reached. Not to mention the fact that he’d crashed at least three bikes in the last four months. But Jack wasn’t supposed to know that.
Finn shrugged off Neil’s comment with a smile and went directly for a bowl. It was a good thing he was a chef because the man was constantly hungry. How he remained so fit was a mystery.
He took a taste of the white bean and pancetta. “This soup is off the charts,” he said. “Jack. I’m impressed. Any particular reason for your inspiration?”
Remembering the reason the soup came into existence, a rush of heat spread through his body and settled in his groin. He clenched his fists, trying to stop the blood flowing from his brain to his cock.
“I wondered the same thing when he waltzed in here whistling and smiling,” Cole said.
“I know that look.” Finn snapped his fingers in front of Jack’s face, bringing him back to
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