Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

There’s one place our girl is always in control.

The kitchen.

~Zayne

CHLOÉ WOUND HER coat tight around her body and tied it off at the waist as she stepped outside and onto the sidewalk.

It was her first night back in Paris, and after a much-needed nap, she was about to cook up some fine French cuisine for her two men—and she couldn’t be more excited.

When Ethan and Zayne first suggested this trip, she’d jumped at the chance to experience France with the two of them. But when they’d finally arrived and she got a glimpse at the place they were going to call home, she had to admit to feeling a little bit out of place. Maybe even a little bit envious.

Not of the home, but the romance of the city and the life she knew they were going to live in that home, long into the future. It got her wondering where shefit into that future.

She wasn’t a jealous person. Nor was she insecure. But something about seeing them in their new home for the first time had made her wonder if she’d ever see them there again after this trip.

It was ridiculous, and she knew that. Neither of them had ever given her a reason to think that way. But in that moment, she had known what a beautiful life they were going to have with one another, and felt a definite stab of jealousy.

Something they’d both picked up on in an instant, and that was the part she regretted the most. She didn’t want them to think she begrudged them, or this experience, in any way—she didn’t. But she couldn’t help the niggling voice in the back of her head asking: what happens next?

“Okay, Red.” She turned to see Zayne walking toward her as Ethan locked up. “We’re all dressed up. You’re in heels—”

“Nope, I’m in flats.” She’d done that on purpose, pairing them with her skinny jeans and black sleeveless bodysuit.

“Still, are you sure you don’t want us to call Gilles?”

She smiled at him and smoothed a hand down his chest. “Nope. No driver required.”

“Really?”

She nodded and glanced up at the night sky. “The moon is bright, the stars are shining, and the street lamps will make for a romantic walk.”

“Walk? Where exactly are we walking?”

“You’ll see.” She hooked her arm through his and then looked to Ethan. “You ready?”

“I am.” He took her hand, and they started down the street. “You’re being very mysterious.”

“Am I?”

“You are.”

“Well, I figured since you were newbies to the city, I’d take you somewhere special for dinner.”

“Somewhere we can walk?”

She laughed. “Oui. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two didn’t trust me.”

As they crossed to the next block, there were more people milling around on the streets, and there were several small bars and cafés with string lights hanging from the awnings and twisted around potted plants.

“I love the nights here,” Chloé said, a whimsical note to her voice as they continued past lovers kissing in alleyways and people drinking wine at tables on the cobblestone streets. They crossed two more blocks and came up to the corner, where she stopped and looked in the window of a bustling restaurant. “We’re here.”

Ethan and Zayne looked past the diners eating al fresco and saw in gold script across the window: JULIEN.

Zayne turned to her, his jaw practically on the ground. “This is your father’s restaurant?”

“Oui. And you have a reservation at the chef’s table tonight.” She winked. “Spoiler alert: I’m the chef.”

For the first time ever, Ethan looked shocked. “Why didn’t you tell us it was so close?”

“Because that wouldn’t have been half as fun.” She waggled her brows and practically skipped to the front door, pulling it open for them. Zayne walked by in stunned silence, but Ethan had somewhat recovered.

“That was sneaky.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, consider us surprised, though I don’t think it’s fully computed with Zayne yet.”

“Bonsoir, bienvenue chez JULIEN. Combien … Mademoiselle Chloé? Ah! Je n’en croyais pas mes oreilles lorsque ton père a téléphoné.”

Chloé beamed at the handsome grey-haired man clutching a menu to his chest, then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed both cheeks.

"Claude, c’est vraiment bon de vous voir. Mon père vous envoie ses amitiés."

He pulled back to look her over, his eyes twinkling. She’d known Claude since she was a little girl.

"Cela fait trop longtemps que Julien n’est pas passé. Il nous manque par ici."

“I know,” she said, slipping back into English for Ethan and Zayne. “He misses all of you too. But I have it on good authority they’re planning a trip very soon.”

“So he tells me. Now, we heard you and some special guests might be joining us for dinner tonight.”

“That’s right.” She turned. “Ethan, Zayne, this is Claude.”

They shook his hand, and for a moment she thought Zayne might go in for the cheek kisses. But at the last second, he seemed to second-guess himself, which had Chloé biting back a laugh.

Poor Claude—he would’ve liked that.

“I hope our being here won’t cause too many problems.”

“Never, and even if it did, we’d make an exception for you, young lady.”

“Merci.”

"Je vous en prie." If you’ll come with me, we’ve set up the chef’s table and a station for you.”

“You’re a gem, Claude.” As he headed off through the restaurant, she untied her coat and shrugged out of it, then glanced to her two men. “Well, don’t just stand there, you two. Let’s go.”

* * *

LEAVE IT TO Chloé to throw them for a loop. But as Zayne trailed behind those ahead of him, he couldn’t get over the fact they were standing in her father’s restaurant—in Paris—and she was about to cook for them.

Today had already been one for the books, but add in a private dinner cooked by their girlfriend? He didn’t think even Ethan had been prepared for that.

They pushed through a set of wooden doors and entered a bustling kitchen where men and women were calling out things in French he had no hope of understanding. But when they caught sight of Chloé, their faces lit up and all the barking turned to ooohs and ahhhs as they flocked to her for more cheek kisses and hugs.

He moved off to the side with Ethan and stood there watching the scene unfold. “Would you look at that—she’s a rock star everywhere she goes. They love her.”

Claude, who stood on the other side of Ethan, wore a proud smile on his handsome face. “We’ve known Chloé since she was unepetite fille running around the dining room and kitchen with curls all over the place. Then she started cooking with her père and would sit in that corner over there at the chef’s table.”

They glanced to the booth in the corner, and Claude nodded.

“We all took turns, watching over her, teaching her the tricks of the trade. She’s our family—of course we love her.”

Chloé looked over her shoulder then, and the grin on her face said she was most definitely in her happy place. Zayne’s heart lifted at knowing she’d brought them there to meet her extended family.

“Please,” Claude said, and gestured to the booth. “Have a seat. Can I get either of you something to drink?”

They slid into one side of the booth so they could still see the kitchen, then Ethan inclined his head to Chloé, who was laughing with some of the staff.

“Perhaps we should refer to our chef for the night, find out what she has up her sleeve.”

“Yes, of course.” Claude nodded and turned back to their date. “Chef Chloé? Excuse me.”

Chloé waved a hand to her friends and then hurried over. “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen them for so long, and I—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Ethan said.

Her cheeks were rosy, her excitement at being there evident on her face.

“We were just wondering what wine we should order, since you mentioned cooking tonight.”

“Oh, yes. Let me see.” She picked up the menu on the table and ran her eyes down over it. “Hmm, how about a champagne to start with, then a pinot and sparkling rosé. Do you have those on hand?”

“I believe so, but let me double-check,” Claude replied. “Did Eléa show you the station we set up for you?”

“She did, oui.”

“Very good. I’ll get out of your way, then. I don’t need to tell you to make yourself at home.”

“Merci, Claude. I appreciate you.”

“You have carte blanche.” He looked to Zayne and Ethan. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks. We will,” Zayne said as Claude left.

Chloé slid into the seat opposite them, her excitement at being back in the kitchen written all over her smiling face. “So? What do you think?”

“You’re famous, Red,” Zayne said.

She laughed, and the sound was so joyful that he couldn’t help but join in.

“No. They were just saying how grown-up I look.”

Ethan appraised her tight bodysuit and hummed in the back of his throat. “That’s one way to describe you.”

“Oh?” She leaned over the table. “Then how would you describe me?”

“As the sexy woman we plan to take home later and devour.”

Chloé wet her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, and Zayne’s dick jerked. The sexual tension between the three of them was now on high.

“Miss Chloé?”

Chloé whipped her head around, and Zayne chuckled.

“Yes, Claude?”

“I just wanted to let you know we have all of those wines on hand.”

Chloé coughed a little and pulled at her formfitting neckline. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

As he walked away and she caught Ethan and Zayne’s smirks, she narrowed her eyes.

“Feeling a little bit hot over there, Red?” Zayne asked.

“Not yet.” She got to her feet. “But I’m about to, in there. Who’s up first?”

“First?” Zayne frowned.

“You didn’t think I was going to do all the work tonight, did you?” She grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist, then held the other up. “So, who’s my first victim?”

* * *

ETHAN SLID OUT of the booth and took the apron from Chloé, then slipped it over his head.

“Well? Will I do, chef?”

Chloé crossed her arms and gave him her best professional once-over. “I think so. But we’ll see after I assess your skills in the kitchen.”

Ethan leaned down until his lips hovered over the top of hers. “I have skills in all the rooms of the house. Would you like me to show you?”

She arched a sassy brow. “Behave yourself. This is my kitchen, and you have to follow my orders tonight.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.” She put a hand to his chest and pushed him away. “Now, if you’ll follow me to my station, we can begin.”

He moved to the area Chloé indicated and found a cutting board with a knife set rolled out on top of it. She took out two of the wickedly sharp blades and put the others aside.

“How are your knife skills?” She grabbed several onions from a basket and put them on the board in front of them.

“I’d say basic at best.”

She grinned as she peeled one of the onions and grabbed a knife. “One of the first things my père taught me in the kitchen was how to prep the veggies. That includes peeling”—she gestured to the naked onion—“and learning how to cut a vegetable the right way.”

“There’s a wrong way to cut vegetables?”

“There’s a wrong way to cut everything. There are julienne cuts or bâtonnet cuts which are slightly larger. But an onion is fairly simple, so we’ll start there and dice it. First mistake most make? Cutting the root off. It’ll make the onion bleed and you cry like a little baby.”

She sliced the onion in half, leaving the root intact. Then she explained the best way to hold his fingers to guide the knife.

“Did you get all that, Ethan?”

He glanced over at Zayne, who was now sipping on champagne. “Better not drink too much of that if you’re up next.”

“You worry about yourself. I’m just fine over here.”

Chloé chuckled as he looked back to see the onions peeled and waiting off the side of the board, and then she picked one up and said, “I’ll show you one, and you can do the rest.”

Ethan wasn’t a stranger to cooking—he’d cut onions before. But never had he seen an onion cut quite like this. In under ten seconds, Chloé had the onion cut and diced. But that wasn’t even the most impressive part.

She did all of that while looking directly at him and telling him about the duck breast recipe they would be cooking for dinner, completely unconcerned about the knife so close to her fingertips.

Shit.It hurt just to watch.

“Holy shit, Red.” Zayne was out of his seat watching the impressive display, and Ethan’s jaw was on the floor when she finished all three in less than thirty seconds and handed over the knife with a grin.

“Sorry, you looked impressed, and I felt like showing off. I’ll find something else for you to cut.”

Ethan shook his head. It wasn’t often someone could shock him into silence. “That was fucking impressive.”

She winked at him. “It’s merely a humble onion.”

He looked around the kitchen and saw that the rest of the staff had stopped to watch them too. “Humble, huh?”

“That’s right.” She shrugged as everyone got back to work. “And I may or may not be able to do that blindfolded.”

“You’re lying,” Zayne said before he took another sip of his wine, but Ethan didn’t think so.

“You’re not lying, are you?”

“Non. I’m very good blindfolded. You should see me.”

He closed the distance between them and took the knife from her hand. “Careful, Chloé, or I just might take you up on that offer.”

Her eyes fell to his lips, then she quickly turned away and reached for some of the other vegetables on the station.

“Right.” She brushed her hands down the front of her apron, looking a little frazzled. “We should, uh, cut these up and get them ready. Then we can move on to the duck.”

Ethan stepped away from her and moved back to his side of the station. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”

“Good. Okay. The main dish tonight is a spin on my père’s famous one. It’s fillet of duckling rubbed with spices, figs and fennel…”

As Chloé ordered him around the kitchen, Ethan couldn’t help but admire her skill. It was easy to see why she was so adored. Not only was she an accomplished chef, she was also one hell of a teacher. She taught him how to score a duck breast and the best way to cook it. Her love of food was evident in everything she did. She smelled every spice, tasted every sauce, and was quick to point out what it needed more or less of. Watching her move around the kitchen with such ease was awe-inspiring, to say the least.

Zayne was recruited for the dessert once they were done, and this was when Ethan got a chance to really sit down and observe her. Chloé explained patiently step by step how she was going to be making a pâte sucrée—a sweet, tart dough—and then she got busy trying to teach him. Trying was putting it nicely, because Zayne was okay with the savory meals, but when it came to his beloved sweets, he was more…challenged.

First she combined the butter, sugar, and salt and turned on a mixer, and once it was ready, she had him add in the flour. Zayne, being Zayne, got a little overzealous, and one cup of flour later, half of it was all over his face.

Chloé let out a boisterous laugh and shooed him back to the table with Ethan, and somewhere in the middle of learning how to make a duck breast and chocolate tart, he and Zayne found themselves falling harder and harder for their chef.

By the end of their meal in her father’s kitchen, she’d not only taught them how to cook a five-star meal, she’d taught them how to have fun while doing it.

Chloé had invited them deeper into her world tonight, and shown them what she was really made of, and damn if they weren’t impressed. She was more than a rock star, she was a total boss—and being this good, this young? He could only imagine how far she would go in life.

Which once again had him wondering where she saw herself in the future. It was an important question, and one that definitely needed to be asked sooner rather than later.