The Wedding Gift

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Julie woke the next morning, a smile still on her lips, her skin still tingling, from her lovely-and utterly delicious-night with Andrew.

She'd wanted him, and she'd gone for him. Taking such a big risk had been scary, but thinking back to one or two of the more memorable moments from the night before, she knew it had been worth it.

Definitely worth it.

The only thing that would have made it better was if Andrew were still there to cuddle with on his large, oh-so-soft bed. She rolled over and hugged his pillow.

That was when she finally saw what time it was. Uh-oh. If she didn't hurry up, she was going to be late for work. Too bad it meant leaving behind the wonderful comfort of his big bed. Somehow, though, this morning, even that didn't bother her. How could it, when everything else seemed absolutely perfect?

Throwing back the covers, Julie hunted for her clothing. How had her bra managed to get there?Surprised to realize there was no bathroom off the master bedroom, she peeked her head into the kitchen to find Andrew working at the stove.

He caught sight of her and turned to say, "Good morning."

Suddenly conscious of how little of her clothing she had managed to put back on, she pulled her dress across herself as best she could.

"Aren't we past that stage?" he asked with a gorgeous smile.

Knowing it was true, she stopped making such an effort with the pile of clothes and enjoyed the way his eyes lingered on her instead.

"Which way to the bathroom?"

"It's the only problem with a pre-war apartment like this," Andrew said as he used a spatula to point to a closed door off the living room. "It's right through there. Breakfast should be ready soon."

"I'm not sure I have time for breakfast."

Andrew shook his head. "There's always time for breakfast. At least if you hurry up in the shower. Although, I don't suppose-"

She couldn't stop the smile from stealing across her face. "You aren't about to suggest that you scrub my back, are you?"

Andrew grinned in a way that made it clear it was exactly what he had been about to suggest. "A man can hope."

"Hoping is fine," Julie said, "just so long as you don't think it's actually going to happen. Unless you want me to be late for work?"

"Spoilsport."

After piling her hair on top of her head and showering as quickly as she could, Julie realized there was no way she'd have time to go home to change before work. She was just going to have to find out whether the dress she'd worn the previous night-a dress designed for a nice dinner rather than a day at work behind a stove-was going to be suitable for cooking at The Rose Chalet. If Phoebe could get away with it, couldn't she?

By the time she was clean and dressed, there was a heavenly smell coming from the kitchen and Andrew was waiting for her. The appreciation in his eyes made her practically glow.

"What are you making?" Julie asked. "Prosciutto-wrapped eggs and French toast? An elaborate layering of fruits and homemade yogurt?"

"An omelet," Andrew answered.

He was still staring at her, but not with desire, though she knew there was probably plenty under the surface. No, his expression was gentler than that.

He looked content.

And as happy as she felt.

"Just an omelet?" she teased. "Why, Chef Kyle, what will the Michelin people think?"

Andrew laughed. "I won't tell them if you don't. Now come and sit down. I'm not letting you leave for work until you've cleaned your plate."

He was right, she needed to eat. And even if Julie had to get to work, she didn't really want to leave yet. Wanting to watch Andrew cook, she settled down at the edge of a counter to get a good view.

Julie didn't help this time. Making dessert together had been fun, and dinner the night before had really been for his family, since he hadn't known if she would show up.

This was the first time Andrew was cooking just for her.

Every movement he made was sure and deft, from cracking the eggs one-handed to mixing everything together with the sharp motions of a fork. He threw in a few pieces of bacon and roasted a couple of tomatoes, but there was nothing complex about it. Yet even before he was finished, she knew breakfast was going to be amazing.

He slid the steaming omelet in front of her and she took a bite. It was perfect.

Andrew had seasoned it as he'd cooked, let it firm up to just the right degree, and added just enough in the way of other ingredients to keep it from being bland. It was a confident take on what should have been such a straightforward dish, yet his cooking elevated it so that every bite Julie took as she attacked the finished product was heavenly.

"Have I told you how much I love watching you eat?" he said tenderly. He gave her a knowing smile. "Actually, I love watching you do almost anything."

The previous night in his arms had been fantastic. But this morning, just being here with him, eating together, teasing each other, was positively amazing.

"I enjoy watching you, too," she boldly replied.

"You enjoy watching me?" He laughed. "And here I was hoping for a much stronger word than enjoy." He raised one eyebrow and playfully said, "Soon I'll have you right where I want you."

This, Julie was sure, was a huge part of the secret of Andrew's success. Not simply technique. Not some magical understanding of flavor based on a superior palate. Not even the years of experience working in top restaurants.

Confidence.

It was the one ingredient that seemed to go with everything.

She could see it in everything he did, every move he made, every word out of his mouth. His confidence drew her-and everyone else's-eye as surely as those dimples of his did. It made his every move in the kitchen a joy to watch. And it made his food-Julie tasted her omelet and closed her eyes as the flavors worked their way across her tongue-absolutely delicious.

"It's good to see you smiling," he said.

"I have a lot to smile about." The kiss he gave her a moment later gave her even more reason to smile.

A few minutes later, though, as she was picking up her car keys to head to work and preparing to say goodbye, Andrew put his arms around her.

"You're being very quiet," he observed.

"I'm just thinking about things," she said, wanting to be completely honest with him.

"About us?"

"This morning," she said slowly, "things just seem so obvious. Maybe too obvious."

"There's no such thing as too obvious. Just trust yourself, Julie. Trust the way you feel."

If only she had that confidence, just for a little while. "I have to go."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm already ten minutes late. Last night was wonderful. Really."

"I'll call you later, okay? And you know I'll show up at your aunt's place if you ignore me."

Things seemed so simple when she was in his arms, she thought as she drove to The Rose Chalet.

But were they really that simple?