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  And now, here I am, ten years later, working with this amazing human who can still take the breath from my lungs.

  I don’t know what I want from her, or if I want anything at all. But I’m excited to work with her today. We always enjoyed cooking together. It’s how we decided to be roommates. My old roomie moved out, and I couldn’t afford the place on my own. She was in my culinary program, and needed a place. It seemed logical and convenient.

  We were partners in class, and knew we got along well. But what I didn’t consider was that not only is Mia fun to work with, she’s sexy as fuck when she cooks. I couldn’t keep my hands off her.

  That’s something that I’ll have to work on. I don’t need a sexual harassment suit.

  The thought makes me grin as I walk into the Starbucks down the street from Seduction. If there’s one thing that I remember about Mia, aside from how it feels to be next to her when she’s naked, it’s that she’s one grouchy person before coffee. Maybe she’s already had some, but coming in with backup can’t hurt.

  It’s just seven fifteen when I arrive. I’m early, but Cami is coming out of the front door. She smiles when she sees me.

  “Hi,” she says.

  “Good morning. I’m early.”

  “Well, Mia’s in the kitchen. I just had to finish up some payroll stuff, and my computer at home finally gave up the ghost, so I came into the office. Employees still have to get paid.”

  I nod and she points at the coffee. “For Mia?”

  “It is.”

  “Going in with ammo. You’re smart.”

  “She likes coffee.”

  She nods. “She’s not really a morning person.”

  “Are you trying to warn me?”

  “It’s never a bad thing to have all of the information.”

  “True.”

  She tilts her head and props her hands on her hips, watching me. “How long were you together? Before?”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  She simply shakes her head no.

  “A few months.”

  “Did you love her?”

  I frown, and she shakes her head. “Forget I asked. I’m nosy by nature, especially when it comes to my girls. She’s important to me.”

  It’s like talking to Addie last night.

  “I’m just here for a job, Cami. And I have a soft spot for Mia. I’m not a jerk.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t recall ever being called a jerk,” I reply honestly. “And it’s not my intent to hurt anyone’s feelings. I don’t want to talk about our past with you if she hasn’t already told you herself.”

  “I get that,” she says and holds up her hands in surrender. “And I even approve of that. It means you have integrity, and I respect it. No need to tell me secrets. I just wanted to point out that she can be tough to work with, but it just means that she wants everything to be perfect.”

  “Well, then she and I are on the same page there.”

  Cami grins. “Go on in. I’ll lock the door behind you. Have a good morning.”

  “You too.”

  I walk past her, through the empty restaurant to the kitchen. The door is propped open, and music is playing from a wireless speaker on the counter. Adele is setting fire to the rain and Mia is moving her hips back and forth as she puts dry goods away, her back to me.

  She’s wearing a sweatshirt Flashdance-style, exposing one perfect shoulder. She’s in black leggings and sandals with a closed toe.

  Her curly black hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and I want nothing more than to shake it loose and grab it tightly, just the way she likes it, while I—

  “You’re early.”

  I shake my head, clearing my thoughts and look into her blue eyes.

  “I’m always early.”

  “Hmph.” She walks into the freezer and then comes out with a big pan full of roast. “I need to prep this and get it in the oven.”

  “French dips for lunch?”

  “It’s the special,” she replies. “It’ll take me five minutes, and then I’ll have time for you.”

  “I can help.”

  “Not necessary.”

  I move next to her and she glares up at me. “No means no, Camden.”

  My lips twitch and I can’t help but touch the end of her nose with my finger. “You’re still not a morning person.”

  “I have knives,” she replies. “Lots of knives.”

  “So noted.”

  Her eyes zero in on the coffee. “Is that for me?”

  “It is.”

  She stops and turns away from the beef.

  “Is it an Americano?”

  “Right again.”

  She sighs. “God damn it.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You brought me coffee.”

  “You like coffee.”

  “Yeah, and you’re going to make me be nice to you, and that wasn’t part of the plan.”

  I chuckle and pass the cup to her. “I’m a likeable guy.”

  She takes a sip, considering me.

  “You’re okay.”

  I raise a brow.

  “Thank you for the coffee.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Now go away so I can do this. Being watched makes me nervous.”

  “And you’ve agreed to be on TV?” I cock a brow and she narrows her eyes on me.

  “Yes, smarty pants, because it’s what’s best for the restaurant.”

  I take a sip of my coffee, watching her sip her own, taking her in.

  “I’ve watched you cook dozens, if not hundreds, of dishes.”

  “It made me nervous then too,” she mutters, surprising me.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  She shrugs that bare shoulder, and my cock twitches. Damn it, maybe it’s best if I don’t watch her cook.

  So, I turn and walk out of the kitchen. I need more coffee.

  And a fucking cold shower.

  Chapter Three

  ~Mia~

  How am I going to do this? He’s been here for five minutes, and I feel unfocused and just . . . ridiculous.

  He brought me coffee, and he remembered the way I order it from Starbucks. How could he possibly remember that? He can’t be nice to me. I won’t survive this if he’s nice. He’ll bring me coffee, and maybe flirt with me a little, and then he’ll leave after the taping, and I’ll be sad. It’s just stupid.

  “Get a grip,” I mutter to myself and set the heavy pan of roast beef in the oven to slow roast for the lunch crowd.

  I walk out to the dining room, but it’s empty. Of course, now I’m ready for him, and he’s nowhere to be found. “Camden?” Maybe my morning bitch-show scared him off for good. It’s probably for the best.

  I march back into the kitchen and begin chopping vegetables for salad. It’s usually the sous chef’s job, but I’m here now, so I might as well work.

  Unfortunately, with no sleep and only one cup of coffee in me, I’m not as focused as I should be, so I work slower, sure to not cut myself. I’ve worked many a night with a cut hand, and it sucks balls, so I avoid it at all costs.

  With the veggies chopped, I turn to fetch the ingredients for the house-made dressings, and suddenly another cup of Starbucks is under my nose.

  Thank God for Addie.

  “Oh, I love you,” I murmur and take the cup, then a long sip.

  “I had no idea that Starbucks was all it would take to hear those words from you.”

  I spin and stare in horror at Camden.

  “I thought you left.”

  “Clearly we both needed more coffee before we tried to kill each other.”

  I narrow my eyes and take another sip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a fucking delight in the morning.”

  He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest, leans against the countertop and smiles at me. “You’re certainly beautiful in the morning.”

  I blink slowly. “Yes,
looking homeless is all the rage these days.”

  His eyes do that damn smolder thing they do when he’s thinking sexy thoughts. “You don’t look homeless. You look rumpled.”

  “Stop.” I point my finger at him. “It’s too early for your smolder.”

  “My what?”

  “You know what. And it’s too early for it. We need to get to work.”

  “Are you going to always be this bossy?”

  “Yep.” I smile brilliantly and grab a notebook. “Let’s go sit at a table.”

  We grab our coffees and settle into a booth. I’m across from him now, with a table between us, but he’s still got that smolder on his face. I ignore it, and do my best to remain professional.

  “Have you given any thought to dishes you’d like to do?” I concentrate on the paper, writing Mia on one side and Camden on the other, then draw a nice, thick line between the two names.

  “You always liked lists.”

  “Lists are an imperative part of life. Without lists, you’d forget everything you have to do, and we can’t have that.”

  “No, we can’t have that. Stop biting your lip.”

  I glance up in surprise. “I wasn’t.”

  “You were.” He shifts in his seat and rubs his fingertips over his forehead. “Let’s hear your ideas first.”

  “Okay.” I set the pen down and rub my hands together. “I’d like to do one fish dish. Maybe salmon. I think fish is something that a lot of people are intimidated by because it’s delicate and it’s easy to screw it up, but we can show them easier ways to make a delicious piece of fish.”

  “I like that,” he says with a nod, so I write fish under my name on the list.

  “Now your turn.”

  “Cajun chicken alfredo,” he says immediately.

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful.”

  “It is,” he agrees with a nod. “I learned it from this old guy just outside of Baton Rouge. It’s fantastic.”

  “On the list,” I murmur and write Cajun alfredo Goodness under Camden’s name. “I think it would be fun to do a quirky appetizer. Like a—”

  “I have an amazing stuffed mushroom recipe with chorizo that’s pretty amazing.”

  “I have one, too, but I use an Italian sausage. We could both do them, with our different recipes, and viewers can make the one that looks best to them.”

  “I like it,” he says with a nod. “And we can try each other’s on camera too and give feedback.”

  “That’s a good idea. As a viewer, I love it when chefs do that. It makes me want to make the recipe even more.”

  “I agree.”

  “Who’s going to judge the dishes?” I ask. “I don’t think Trevor mentioned that.”

  “No, he didn’t. I’m not sure.”

  “This is fun.” I do a little shimmy in my seat and write stuffed mushrooms under both of our names. “Let’s do two more.”

  “I think it would be fun to use a grill. We could do a BBQ dish, or even something as simple as burgers, with our own twist to them.”

  “Have you tried the burgers with the cheese inside of them?”

  He blinks for a second, gathering his thoughts. “Yes.”

  “It should be illegal,” I reply. “I like the grill idea. Let’s add it.”

  I write yummy grill under our names.

  “Have you honed your dessert skills over the past ten years?” he asks with a grin.

  “I always made good desserts.”

  “I seem to remember a situation with a smoky apartment, fire alarms and burnt brownies. The fire department showed up.”

  “That wasn’t my fault,” I counter. “If you hadn’t talked me into getting naked, I wouldn’t have—” I stop and sit back, frowning down at my notebook.

  “You wouldn’t have what?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head and write dessert under my column. “I make some signature desserts we can decide on later.”

  I move to climb out of the booth, but he puts his hand on my arm, stopping me cold.

  “What?”

  “What just happened?”

  “Look, Camden, I think we’re going to have fun cooking together. We always did before, there’s no reason that we won’t now. But we don’t really need to rehash all of the good ol’ days. And you can just back off with the smolder, too.”

  “I don’t have a smolder,” he says, frustration hanging heavily in his voice. “I was trying to have a fun conversation with you. We’re going to be working together on national television. It’s not going to work if it looks like you hate me during the whole thing.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Then why the attitude?”

  “I don’t have an attitude. But if you’d like to see one, I’m sure I can oblige.”

  “Jesus, you’re difficult,” he mutters and rubs his hands over his whole face this time.

  “I can turn on Susie Sunshine for the cameras,” I reply. “And I’m not trying to be a bitch. I’m really not. But there’s no need to talk about before.”

  Between his smolder and hashing out the past, it’s going to be impossible to remain professional. I’m so damn drawn to him, and that’s not what we’re here for.

  That’s not the plan. Not to mention, he never said he wants me. I refuse to embarrass myself with this man. So the more distant I am, the better.

  “Oh, we’re going to talk about it,” he replies grimly.

  “I have to get in the kitchen.”

  “I know. But you can’t run away every time I see you, and we will talk. But it won’t be here.”

  “Hi pot, I’m kettle. I seem to remember seeing you run off to the restroom when I made my way to your table last night.”

  His hands fist on the table and he takes a deep breath.

  “That wasn’t the same.”

  “Okay.” I roll my eyes and move to stand again, but he holds me back again.

  “We’ll talk, Mia.”

  “Well, I don’t plan to see you outside of here, so—”

  He just grins, and I know I’ve lost this little argument.

  “Are you having a nice time with your sister?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

  “It’s good to see her,” he says with a nod. “You seem to get along well.”

  “She was always nice to me.”

  “Does she get to talk about the past with you?”

  “She hasn’t brought it up,” I reply. Besides, she never saw me naked.

  “Hmm,” he says. “She and Chip are down on vacation for the week. I think we’re having dinner on the river this evening, if you’d like to join us.”

  Hell no.

  “Thanks, but I’ll be working.”

  “Do you work every day?” he asks.

  “Not every day.”

  “When was your last day off?”

  I frown, thinking, but I can’t remember. “It was probably a week ago.”

  “That’s a lie,” he says easily. “You can’t remember.”

  “If you’re so fucking psychic, why are you asking me questions?”

  “Why are you so on edge?”

  I take a deep breath so I don’t throat punch him. I’m on edge because he puts me on edge. And he does it without even trying. “Have a nice dinner tonight.”

  I stand and gather my notebook.

  “Oh, and thanks for the coffees, too.”

  “Shall we start cooking tomorrow morning?”

  I nod, resigned to never sleeping again. “Same time.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “See you then.”

  I walk back to my kitchen and start making a list of extra ingredients that I’ll need to order for these recipes. I’m not working tonight, but I can’t spend time with Camden outside of this project. I’m still ridiculously attracted to him, and I’ll make a fool of myself.

  I already did that once with him. I won’t do it again.

  My phone b
uzzes with a text from Cami. Don’t forget dinner tonight at our house. 6:00.

  I smile and reply. I’ll be there. What can I bring?

  The dots blink on the phone as she replies. A bottle of red. I have the rest covered.

  You got it.

  Spending the evening with my best friend and my brother is much less likely to end in catastrophe than if I’d accepted Camden’s invitation.

  “Oh God, I’m so full,” Cami says as she unbuttons the top of her jeans and lounges back in her chair on the patio.

  “It was good,” I reply.

  “Why do you sound surprised?” Landon, my brother, asks. “I can cook, you know.”

  “I’m not surprised. I am, however, hopeful that I’ll still be alive tomorrow.”

  “Har har,” he says, then plants a kiss on Cami’s cheek. “How was your day?”

  “Long,” I reply with a yawn. “I didn’t sleep last night, and had to be in my kitchen at about seven this morning to start working with Camden, so I’m tired.”

  “How did that go?” Cami asks.

  “Fine.” I shrug. “He’s nice enough.”

  “Are you ever going to tell us what happened?” Cami asks. “We’ve tried to be patient and wait until you offer the information, but I think you have top-level security clearance with the CIA because getting information out of you is impossible.”

  “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” I reply with a sassy wink.

  “I have security clearance with the navy, so you can tell me,” Landon says. His voice sounds like he’s being funny, but his eyes are hard. “He hurt you, didn’t he? I’m going to have to kill him and make it look like an accident.”

  Scoot, Cami’s cat, comes out onto the patio and jumps up onto the chaise next to Landon. He curls up and purrs loudly.

  I frown and shake my head. “He didn’t really do anything wrong.”

  Neither of them replies, they just sit quietly, watching me. Maybe it’s time I talk about it in detail with someone, rather than just give out bits and pieces. I’m not going to have a more supportive audience than my best friend and my brother.

  “Camden and I went to culinary school together up in Seattle. He was so hot. I mean, you’ve seen what he looks like now, and to be honest he’s gotten hotter, but at about twenty, he was just—”