Booktree.ngIt-Starts-with-Us-Colleen-Hoover

“Not officially. Atlas wanted to see how I work with the menu here; he’s
thinking of promoting me to head chef.” He leans in and smiles. “He said
he wants more time off. I guess now I know why.” Darin tosses a rag over
his shoulder. “It was good seeing you. Sounds like you’ll be around more
often.” He winks before walking away.
Knowing Atlas is making an effort to spend less time at work makes my
stomach swirl with happiness.
I spend the next fifteen minutes silently watching Atlas work. Every now
and then he’ll glance at me and give me a warm smile, but the rest of the
time, he’s focused on his job. His intensity and confidence are mesmerizing.
No one seems intimidated by him, but everyone appears to want his
opinion. He’s constantly being asked questions, and he responds to each one
of them with patience. In between those moments of teaching, there’s a lot
of yelling. Not the kind of yelling I’d expect to find in a kitchen, but people
calling out food orders and cooks yelling their acknowledgments. It’s loud
and busy, but the vibe is a rush.
It’s honestly not at all what I expected to find. I thought I’d see a whole
new side to Atlas—one where he barked orders with anger and behaved like
all the chefs I’ve seen on television. But, thankfully, that’s not at all what is
happening in this kitchen.
After a thrilling half an hour goes by, Atlas finally steps away from his
station. He washes his hands before walking over to me. I get this knot of
excitement in my stomach when he leans forward and presses his mouth to
mine, like he doesn’t care that all his staff can see us.
“Sorry that took so long,” he says.
“I enjoyed it. It was different than I expected.”
“How so?”
“I thought all chefs were assholes and screamed at their staff.”
He laughs. “No assholes in this kitchen. Sorry to disappoint.” He
uncrosses my legs so he can stand between them. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“Josh is staying over at Theo’s tonight.”
I can’t hold back my grin. “What a wonderful coincidence.”
Atlas’s eyes sweep over me, and then he leans his head against mine,
pressing his lips lightly against my ear. “Your place or mine?”
“Yours. I want to be in a bed that smells like you.”