Can't Stand the Heat - Louisa Edwards [134]
Miranda closed her eyes, holding herself still. “No. I cared more than I’ve ever cared about anything—enough to plan out an organized attack rather than simply flailing about uselessly.”
Adam nodded, satisfied. That confirmed what he’d read into her little performance piece, too.
“You made up with Jess,” Adam said. “That was good.”
“Yes, it was a huge relief. I hated not being part of his life.”
“I know. But the way you did it, in public like that. In front of the whole world. And that bit at the end, about what you want. That was for me.”
Miranda’s eyes popped open like he’d slipped her a surprise habanero pepper.
“No, I . . . that was to make up for the bad publicity.”
“There’s no such thing as bad publicity, it turns out. We’ve been turning away customers all week.”
“I’m glad,” she told him earnestly. “I love this place. It made me sick to think I’d hurt it.”
Adam identified with his restaurant as much as the next obsessive chef, but he wasn’t about to let her get away with that.
“For someone so good with words, you’ve got to work on your communication skills. Come on, admit it.”
She colored up nicely, her cheeks and ears vying with her sweater in terms of redness. “I know you don’t feel the same anymore,” she said haltingly, “but I love you. I never stopped.”
Burning satisfaction swept through him. He wanted to howl for joy and get those cameras back in here so he could tell everyone; he wanted to do a victory lap around the kitchen and invent a whole new menu.
He settled for pulling Miranda’s startled body close and kissing her.
She stiffened with shock for only a second. Then, with a soft mewl of pleasure, she sank into the kiss, opening wide for him and sucking on his tongue.
With difficulty, Adam pulled back. Miranda looked dazed, the bright blue of her eyes clouded with bewildered lust.
“You made your big confession in public,” he said hoarsely, “to prove that you could open up. You always held back before, but tonight, you gave it all up, like a gift.”
That spark he loved chased some of the haze from her vision. “It was the only way I could be sure you’d listen,” she said tartly. “I know how stubborn you are.”
Adam grinned. “Stubborn enough to keep loving you, no matter how many mistakes you make.”
“Really?” she breathed, face glowing.
Adam kissed her again for an answer. She took it in the spirit it was intended, twining around him lusciously and making those noises he loved.
When they came up for air a few minutes later, Adam said, “You said something before about making it up to me.”
Miranda blinked, then frowned. “Adam, if you are about to use my heartfelt regret and desire to make restitution as an excuse to cajole me into having sex in this pantry—”
“Not what I meant!” Adam laughed, then pretended to go thoughtful. “Although . . .”
A muffled thud sounded through the pantry door, followed by several giggles. Adam turned the knob and essentially the entire Market crew fell into the pantry with them.
“Shag her blind,” yelled Frankie from the floor.
“That’s my sister,” cried Jess, in tones that suggested he expected Miranda to go to her grave a virgin.
“The pantry’s not the best place for sex,” Violet said critically. “You’d think fifty-pound bags of flour would be soft, but they’re not.”
Milo leered. “Tell us more, Vi!”
“Shut up,” Adam bellowed. “I’m trying to offer Miranda a job.”
That effectively silenced everyone, including Miranda, which wasn’t the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“Come on,” he wheedled. “It’ll be fun. You can do all the menus!”
Miranda took his hand. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
Adam shifted his weight uneasily. Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed writing the menus as much as he thought. But no, she was smiling widely, her eyes as light as a summer sky.
“Somewhere along the way,” Adam said, “I stopped cooking for anyone other than you. When you were gone, it was like all the flavor had drained out of the world. Without you, nothing tastes as sweet.”
Her eyes filled with