Chapter Fourteen

K endall continued to stare at Ridge for a few moments before snapping out of his trance. He crossed to the table and fumbled with his phone until he stopped the music. "Sam Smith has this effect on me," he said sheepishly. "Probably should've warned you, huh?"

Ridge dropped his duffle bag on the floor and strode silently across the room. "I don't know who that is, but if this is the view I can expect nightly…"

Kendall smiled sheepishly. "Then you want a rent reduction?"

Ridge took a deep breath, making his shoulders look even broader. "I'll pay double."

Heat rushed to Kendall's cheeks, making him want to stick his head in the freezer. Ridge stepped closer and placed his hands on Kendall's hips. That's when Kendall noticed a dusting of glitter on Ridge's shirt and a smattering of rogue shimmer on his face. Ridge smelled like sweat, perfume, and sin. Kendall stifled a sigh and took a step back, breaking the loose hold Ridge had on his hips. Too bad his heart wasn't as eager to part ways.

"Strip club?" he asked.

"Huh?" Ridge's voice was thick. Was it from desire or confusion? Perhaps a little of both.

"The glitter on your shirt and face." Kendall reached up and swiped a fleck off Ridge's cheek and showed it to him.

"Fuck. I'd hoped to get in and out without getting that shit on me." Kendall's stomach pitched, and all he wanted to do was curl into a ball. Ridge's eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously. "Not like that. Nothing happened."

"Says every man who visits that type of establishment." Kendall had injected sass and sarcasm into every word to disguise his disappointment.

Ridge growled, turned his back on Kendall, and began to pace. "I didn't go to the club to get a lap dance or whatever . I went to interview a potential witness."

"Well, that's probably the best excuse I've heard yet." Kendall shook his head. "What am I even saying? It's not like we're…"

"What?" Ridge asked.

"A couple. Dating. You're free to get lap dances and whatever , and I'm free to date my boss."

Ridge's expression turned thunderous as he stepped into Kendall's personal space again. "That Drew guy?"

"Former boss, I should say." Kendall wrinkled his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. "I don't mean to be hateful, but you reek. That perfume doesn't work well on you."

Ridge turned his head and took a whiff of his sleeve. He scrunched up his nose and looked adorably irate. "It's probably a combination of several perfumes."

"A real popular guy at Tit for Tat, huh?" When Ridge raised a brow, Kendall said. "It's the only strip club after The Alley Cat burned down."

"For the record," Ridge said in a growly voice, "I'm gay as fuck. While I think women are beautiful, I have zero desire to sleep with them." Kendall resented the hope blossoming in his heart. He tried to speak but could only nod. "And I'm going to take a quick shower to wash off the glitter and whatever is sticking to me after walking through the club." Kendall was curious to know what a quick shower was for Ridge. Fifteen minutes? "Then I want to hear about this former boss as potential boyfriend material situation." He sounded less pissed about the idea, and Kendall's hope deflated like a balloon.

Kendall wasn't interested in dating Chet, and he was even less keen on discussing why, especially not with Ridge. But his day had been weird, and Ridge was an objective party without skin in the game.

"Okay, but you'll have to let me repay you in wings and pizza."

"Can we do takeout? I'm pretty tired after this weekend."

"I'm planning to treat you to my homemade wings and pizza," Kendall said, then made a shooing motion to get Ridge going. He needed a moment to regain his composure. Once his sexy tenant had shut himself in the bathroom, Kendall ran to his room and pulled a tank top on over his head. Changing his booty shorts would've been too obvious, so he kept them on. Besides, he liked the look in Ridge's eyes whenever he caught him staring. All those squats and lunges were finally paying off.

When Ridge returned to the kitchen, he smelled delicious and looked even better. Kendall had been swaying to the song from earlier, even though it was only playing in his head, and adding the finishing touches to the sauce in the pan.

"You can turn your song back on," Ridge said. "I don't mind." The wolfish smile on his handsome face made Kendall want to tempt fate. But then Ridge said, "About this potential boyfriend."

"Chet Dawson is not boyfriend material."

Ridge squinted. "Chet Dawson. Why do I recognize that name?" His eyes widened when his memory kicked in. "You're going to date the Bull Shark?"

Kendall groaned and rolled his eyes. "I just said I wasn't interested."

"No, you said he wasn't boyfriend material. That's not the same thing," Ridge pointed out.

"Semantics." Kendall waved away further protest. "Anyway, when I accepted Chet's lunch invitation, I didn't expect him to say he wanted me back." Ridge stared at him unblinkingly until Kendall took a deep breath. "To work for him."

"You told him no?" Kendall nodded. "So he pursued you personally?"

"Not right away. Chet asked what would make me happy." Kendall dipped a clean spoon into the pan, coating it in the wing sauce. He trailed his finger through the green liquid, then licked it clean before setting the spoon in the sink. Ridge made a whimpering sound beside him, but Kendall was too focused on perfecting the flavor profile to pay him any attention. He shook some chili pepper flakes into the pot and gave it a stir.

Ridge cleared his throat. "What did you say?"

Kendall looked over at him and shrugged. "I told him no one had ever asked me that before, so I wasn't really sure how to answer."

"I see. Then your boss asked you out."

" Former boss . And I think so."

Ridge crossed his arms over his chest. "You think so?"

Kendall chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before recalling the conversation. "It was a pretty low-key dinner invitation and not the first of the day."

"Popular guy," Ridge said dryly.

Kendall chuckled. "The first came from my mother." He picked up another clean spoon and stuck it into the sauce. He repeated the process of swiping the sauce and tasting it. "Almost there."

"Yeah, I am," Ridge said huskily.

Kendall elbowed him but otherwise ignored his comment. "Acid is right. Heat is right. It needs a little something sweet." A light bulb went off, and the solution came to him. He turned to look at Ridge, who was still staring at his lips. "Do you mind retrieving the maple syrup from the refrigerator?"

Ridge didn't acknowledge his request right away but blinked a few seconds later and nodded. "Maple syrup." He pulled open the refrigerator and stared at the interior for far longer than necessary.

"It's the tall bottle in the door with a log cabin on the label."

"What in the hell is all this?" Ridge asked. He looked over at Kendall and gestured to the numerous plastic containers filled with colorful liquids.

"It's what makes me happy."

"Strange liquids?" Ridge asked before reaching for the syrup and handing it to Kendall. "Is it a diet thing?"

Kendall laughed. "Not for me, but I think I could convince you with minimal effort."

Ridge aimed a horrified look at the closed refrigerator door. "Doubt it. And I'm starting to have second thoughts about you cooking our dinner."

"These are potential sauces for the wings at the club."

"The chef sends them home for you to test?" Ridge asked.

"Not exactly," Kendall said as he added a little syrup to the sauce. "I'm the one who creates them."

"You're responsible for the sauces?" Ridge asked.

Kendall cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. "I can't tell if your astonishment is a good or bad thing."

"Definitely good. Where do you come up with all your ideas?"

"I watch a lot of random cooking shows featuring cuisine from all around the world," Kendall said. "Sometimes I get ideas from social media."

"And? Because I can tell there's more."

"It's embarrassing," Kendall mumbled.

Ridge placed his big hand on Kendall's neck and massaged the tense muscles there. "I won't judge you."

"Do you know how Taylor Swift writes songs about people who broke her heart?"

"Um, no."

"Well, I'm the culinary Taylor Swift. Many of my sauces are inspired by life events and heartbreak."

"Oh."

"You must think I'm an immature idiot."

Ridge released his neck and trailed his hand down Kendall's spine, pulling away when he reached his waistband. "I think you're a genius. Can I be your taste tester?"

Kendall turned and looked into Ridge's warm brown eyes. "Really?"

Ridge nodded. "I'm not so sure about this green sauce, though."

"It's the hottest one I've made yet. I'm not sure it will go over well with the chef either. Not sure the patrons will want to eat green chicken wings. Maybe I can offer it as a dipping sauce on the side." Ridge didn't say anything; he just studied Kendall. "What?"

Ridge grazed the back of his hand over Kendall's cheek. "I'm curious what or whom you regret."

Kendall took a shaky breath. "So many things." Currently topping the list was not knowing what it felt like to lie in Ridge's arms.

"What about this green sauce? What name will go on the menu should it make the cut?"

"Envy."

Ridge quirked a brow. "I'm dying to hear the story behind this."

Kendall smiled and stepped back from him. "I'm not telling you all my secrets tonight. It's bad enough I told you about my stepbrother this morning."

"Please tell me the relationship was consensual."

"Of course. We were both adults before we had sex. Travis is only two years older than I am, so he hadn't groomed me or anything. I was the aggressor in the relationship, not him."

"Did your parents know?"

"No, and I want to keep it that way."

"Are you in love with him?" Ridge asked.

"Hell no." And for the first time, Kendall realized he meant it. He'd always love Travis, but he had never been in love with him.

Ridge narrowed his eyes, and it was obvious he had more questions, but he let them drop when Kendall dipped a clean spoon into the green liquid to test the newest tweak to the recipe. Like before, Kendall trailed his finger through the sauce, but Ridge reached out and snagged Kendall's wrist, bringing the finger to his own mouth instead. Firm lips wrapped around Kendall's digit and sucked it into wet heat.

"Oh," Kendall said breathlessly. But Ridge wasn't done yet. He swirled his tongue around the tip of Kendall's finger until his knees threatened to buckle. "Is it good?"

Ridge allowed Kendall's finger to slide from his mouth. "You tell me." He cupped Kendall's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Kendall parted his lips, and Ridge slid home, teasing and twirling his tongue around Kendall's. He was too focused on the man and noticing the wet glide and rasp of tongues to scrutinize the sauce's flavor until the heat came on late, tickling his throat.

Kendall whimpered and clutched at Ridge's T-shirt to keep himself upright. He pulled his mouth free and stared up into Ridge's eyes. "Best sauce I've ever made."

Ridge dropped his hands to Kendall's waist, digging his thumbs into his hips. "You must be very envious." Kendall nodded. "Of whom?"

He took a steadying breath, prepared to confess all, but Ridge's phone rang.

"No. No. No," Ridge snarled as he pulled the cockblocking device from his pocket. He checked the display and added a terse "Fuck" to the mix. He cleared his throat and put some distance between himself and Kendall before jabbing a finger at the screen. "What's up, Eddie?" Ridge listened for a few seconds before saying, "I'll be there in fifteen." Ridge disconnected and blew out an impatient breath. "I'm so sorry."

Kendall shook his head, wondering if the disruption had been divine intervention. "It's your job. And besides, you don't owe me an explanation."

Ridge nodded abruptly. "Right," he agreed. "Can I get a rain check on green chicken wings, pizza, and…"

"A night of trashy reality television." They both knew that hadn't been the direction their evening was heading before Eddie called.

"Right. Television."

Ridge walked over to the living room where Sammy was supervising them from the back of the couch. He fussed over the feline for a few seconds before giving Kendall one last regretful look on his way out the door.

Kendall turned his music back on and tried to dance away his disappointment. He made the homemade pizza as planned because it was something Ridge could reheat whenever he returned. Afterward, he curled up on the couch with Sammy and fell asleep watching 90 Day Fiancé .

He woke sometime later to find Ridge sitting at the end of the couch, mowing his way through pizza and wings. The horrified expression on the man's face caused Kendall to panic.

"Is it the Envy sauce or the pizza that's making you pucker?"

Ridge flinched, then smiled. "Which end? Pretty sure they're both puckering but for different reasons."

Kendall sat up and dipped his finger into the Envy sauce. It was much hotter than when it had been fresh on the stove. Some peppers got hotter the longer they sat. "That accounts for the puckered lips." Kendall took a bite of Ridge's pizza but couldn't find fault with it.

"This is the best pizza I've ever had," Ridge said.

"Thanks. So why the secondary puckering?"

"This show," Ridge said, gesturing to the television with another slice. "What am I watching?"

"Reality television at its finest." Kendall launched into a detailed explanation of the concept, smiling at the faces Ridge made.

"This can't be real," he said.

Kendall shrugged. "The producers claim it is. I'm just here for the entertainment."

"Huh." Ridge sat back and continued eating until the only thing left on his plate was chicken bones. "You watch this kind of thing every night?"

"Nah," Kendall said. " Forensic Files is my go-to. Helps me sleep."

Ridge snapped his head around to stare at Kendall. "Watching a show about criminals helps you sleep at night?"

"It's a show about catching criminals," Kendall corrected. "And the narrator's voice is so soothing."

Ridge shook his head and stood up. "And with that, I'm tapping out. Sweet dreams, Kendall."

Ridge walked his plate into the kitchen, rinsed it, and placed it inside the dishwasher. Another facet of his personality for Kendall to admire.

"Sweet dreams."

Sammy followed Ridge down the hall, his fluffy tail swishing dramatically from side to side. Envy, or perhaps it was the aptly named sauce, simmered in his belly. What he wouldn't give to be that cat for the night.