The Chef's Surprise Baby
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Brenda Harlen
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Chapter One
“Erin—can you hang around for a minute, please?”
Though Kyle Landry had made the request in the form of a question—and even added the word “please”—Erin Napper knew a command when she heard one. And when the executive chef of The Home Station restaurant in Haven, Nevada, asked any of his employees for a moment of their time, they gave it to him.
Especially when the chef and employee in question happened to be good friends.
As a server, Erin primarily worked the front of the house, but Kyle expected his waitstaff to assist with basic prep tasks. He believed that the increased contact between servers and cooks when they were cutting bar garnishes or chopping salad ingredients led to greater camaraderie.
It was often a challenge to work with an exacting and demanding chef, but Erin sincerely enjoyed her job at The Home Station. Besides, who wouldn’t love a job that came with free meals every day?
She only worked part-time at the restaurant, to supplement the income she earned as a website designer, but Kyle insisted that she was always welcome at the “family meal”—the staff dinner shared before service. She also frequently got leftovers delivered to her door by the chef himself—a perk afforded to Erin as a result of the fact that they lived in the same building, and maybe because Kyle knew her culinary abilities were so limited that she often opted to eat cold cereal for dinner rather than cook.
But she had yet another reason for hanging around in response to his directive: she owed him an explanation for her screw-ups tonight.
He waited until the rest of the staff had gone before he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against a gleaming stainless steel counter. Erin had never been a big fan of reality TV cooking shows and certainly wasn’t turned on by a temperamental chef in traditional coat and toque. And yet, she couldn’t deny that Kyle looked damn good in his uniform.
He also looked like a man in complete command of his domain, because he was. Though only thirty-five, he’d earned his lofty position by committing himself, one hundred percent, to his craft. He had the patience to finesse a delicate beurre blanc sauce and the strength to effortlessly butcher thick slabs of meat. And Erin also knew that every dish she carried out of his kitchen contained a little bit of his heart and soul. More than once over the years, she’d found herself wondering if he poured as much passion into everything he did—and certain that, if he did, a woman would be very lucky to be invited to his bedroom.
“I’d say ‘spill,’ but it’s obvious that happened already,” Kyle said, his gaze on the smear of cabernet reduction on the front of the white tuxedo-style shirt she wore tucked into a black pencil skirt protected by a half bistro apron. “So I’ll just ask, what was going on with you tonight? You delivered orders to the wrong tables—twice.”
She dropped her gaze to the dark slate tile floor. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t ask for an apology. I asked what was going on. You’re one of the best on this team. Is everything all right?”
There wasn’t any point in hiding the truth—especially not when she’d already decided to ask for his help. But she’d hoped to ease into the subject on her own time and her own terms, not because she’d messed up during service.
“I got a call from my sister before I came in to work,” she finally confided.
“Is everything okay at home?” he asked.
Though the chef demanded that his employees demonstrate the same commitment and dedication that he did, he also cared about the people who worked in his restaurant. He willingly juggled schedules to accommodate outside responsibilities and regularly inquired about the well-being of not just his staff but also their families.
“Everything’s okay at home,” she said. “The problem is here—or will be soon.”
“And what is that problem?” he asked, sounding curious now.
“Anna and Nick are coming to Haven next week.”
“Your sister and your ex-boyfriend,” he noted, proving that he did listen when she talked.
“Actually, there’s been a change in their status,” Erin told him, still not entirely sure how she felt about that change. “Now they’re husband and wife.”
His brows lifted. “Excuse me? They got married?”
She nodded. “This afternoon.”
“And you weren’t invited to the wedding?”
“They eloped to Vegas.”
A revelation that had surprised Erin, because she’d never imagined that her little sister would forgo the opportunity to walk down the aisle in a long white dress and celebrate her nuptials with a big, fancy wedding. Since the day she was born—twenty-eight years earlier, on Erin’s third birthday—Anna had been the center of attention in the Napper family and now considered the spotlight her due.
Which, of course, made Erin wonder about the reason for their low-key ceremony. Was it possible that the bride had realized an elaborate family celebration would be awkward for the sister who’d lost her virginity to the groom nearly fifteen years earlier?
“Is she pregnant?” Kyle asked now.
“What?” That was a possibility that hadn’t occurred to Erin. “No!”
He held her gaze steadily. “Are you sure?”
No, but she was fairly certain that Anna would have told her if she was.
Wouldn’t she?
She pushed her doubts aside.
“My sister has her faults,” she noted, “but being careless isn’t one of them.”
“So why the urgency to exchange vows?” he wondered.
“She said they didn’t want to wait to start their life together,” Erin said.
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I’m trying to be okay with it,” she said. “I mean, they’ve been dating for more than six months, so it’s not like I haven’t had time to get used to the fact that they’re together.”
But Nick Burnett had been Erin’s first boyfriend. Her first love. Even if she’d been the one who’d decided to end their relationship when she went away to school. At the time, he’d claimed that she’d shattered his heart beyond repair, but she’d always known that he’d find someone else. And maybe she should be happy that he’d done so—she just wished that someone was anyone other than her own sister.
“Nick and I broke up a long time ago,” she continued. “It’s just weird, you know? To think about my ex-boyfriend and my sister...together. Married.”
“So that’s what mixed up your service tonight,” he realized.
“Actually...it was the prime rib au jus with roasted fingerling potatoes and glazed baby carrots that got me thinking about my menu.”
“Your menu?” he echoed.
She lifted her shoulders. “When Anna said that they were coming to Haven before heading home to Silver Hook, I invited them for dinner. Of course, I was planning to order pizza from Jo’s, but then she made a snarky remark about me not knowing how to cook, which of course made me want to prove her wrong.”
“But...you don’t know how to cook,” Kyle reminded her, not unkindly.
“Lucky for me, you do,” she said.
He shook his head. “Oh no. You’re not dragging me into the middle of this family drama.”
“There’s not going to be any drama,” she promised. “I just need you to cook a simple meal that Anna and Nick would believe I made.”
“No,” he said again.
Erin wasn’t ready to throw in her cards—not when she had an ace up her sleeve. “Do you remember when you were just a line cook at Diggers’, desperate to prove to Liam Gilmore that you could be the chef he needed for this restaurant?”
“Of course, I do,” he agreed, his tone wary.
“You offered to prepare a sample of menu items—to show him what you were capable of. But you couldn’t do all the prepping and cooking and serving on your own, so you asked a friend for help.”
“I remember that, too,” he acknowledged. “I also remember thanking that friend—and later getting her a job in the same restaurant so that she would earn much better tips than she ever got serving pizzas at Jo’s or lunch specials at Diggers’.”
It was a valid point, Erin acknowledged to herself, but not one that dissuaded her from pressing her case.
“You also said that you owed her one, and if she ever needed a favor, all she had to do was ask... So I’m asking, Kyle. Please.”
“Do you really want to lie to your sister and brother-in-law?”
“I agree it’s not ideal,” she said. “But after backing myself into a corner, what choice do I have?”
He hesitated for a moment before saying, “I could teach you how to cook.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. The idea was just too outrageous for her to believe it was a sincere offer.
“You don’t think I’m up to the challenge?” he asked.
“It’s not your abilities as a teacher that I doubt, but mine as a student,” she told him.
“You’re a smart, capable woman, Erin. I don’t think there’s anything you can’t do if you put your mind to it.”
His words filled her with pleasure—and more than a little bit of trepidation. “But...they’re going to be here in three days.”
He grinned. “Then we don’t have any time to waste.”
As Kyle made his way toward Erin’s apartment the next morning, he acknowledged that she was right—he did owe her. And every day that he walked into the kitchen at The Home Station—his kitchen—he was aware of that fact. He owed Liam Gilmore, too, for being willing to take a chance on him. But he felt confident that he’d repaid that debt by creating an innovative menu and preparing hearty meals that managed to satisfy the hungry rancher as much as they impressed the sophisticated traveler.
Prior to the opening of The Home Station, Haven residents had to go out of town for upscale dining. Now people from Elko and Battle Mountain—and other locations even further out—came to Haven to eat, and many of them became repeat customers, happy to travel the distance for a delicious meal—often followed by a comfortable bed at the newly remodeled Stagecoach Inn.
Almost everyone Kyle knew had dined at The Home Station at least once, and reservations were typically booked months in advance. The first customers had been drawn by curiosity, many of them determined to proclaim that the new restaurant wasn’t anything special or different and certainly wouldn’t last. Between the all-day breakfast menu at Sunnyside Diner, the legendary pizza at Jo’s and the more extensive but casual offerings at Diggers’ Bar & Grill, there were already enough options for local dining. Those same customers inevitably left The Home Station appreciating that they’d enjoyed a culinary experience that was so much more than a plate of food.
The only local resident he personally knew who’d stubbornly refused to come in for a meal was his own mother. Three years after the restaurant opened, Jolene Landry had yet to forgive Kyle for choosing to work in a stranger’s kitchen rather than hers.
It had been easier for Kyle to forgive his mom for forcing him to make that choice, because he was happy at The Home Station. And his sister was happy, because Lucy was now the heir apparent to the pizzeria. But Jo continued to believe—or at least pretended to believe—that one day Kyle would suddenly discover that he missed making pizzas, give his notice to Liam Gilmore and return to Jo’s.
So yeah, when Erin said that family relationships were complicated, he understood. And that was why he was prepared to teach her to cook, though he had no doubt it would be easier for both of them if she let him prepare the meal for her sister and new brother-in-law.
He balanced one of the paper to-go cups from The Daily Grind on top of the other and knocked on her door. Then again, louder. He was about to knock a third time when it was finally wrenched open from the other side.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Erin demanded, looking obviously unhappy—and recently awakened.
“Not exactly,” he admitted. “But it’s got to be close to nine, because it was eight thirty when I was at The Daily Grind.”
“It’s too early, whatever o’clock it is,” she grumbled. “I was up until four working on updates for a client’s website.”
“How was I supposed to know that?” he asked, offering her one of the cups.
“You could have texted to see if it was okay for you to stop by at this hour.”
“I did text,” he pointed out. “You didn’t reply.”
“Because I was sleeping.”
Which he’d already guessed on the basis of her attire: a pair of pink plaid boxer shorts with a skimpy pink tank top. There was also a crease on her cheek from her pillowcase and her long blond hair was sexily tousled, making him think that a man who woke up beside her wouldn’t be in any hurry to get out of her bed—
And where had that thought come from?
He cleared his throat along with his mind. “Drink your coffee,” he suggested. “Then we’ll chat.”
“Here’s a better idea—I’ll go back to sleep for another three hours and then we’ll chat.”
He shook his head. “I have to be at the restaurant in three hours.” He glanced at the Tissot watch on his wrist, a graduation present from his mom and a symbol of her pride in what he’d accomplished and her belief in his future—when she’d believed that his future was at Jo’s Pizza. “Actually, less than that now.”
Erin peeled back the tab on the lid and cautiously sipped the hot liquid.
“You said your sister and her husband are coming...when?” Kyle prompted.
“Please,” she implored. “I need at least three minutes for the caffeine to hit my brain before I can be expected to have a conversation.”
“Do you think maybe you could get dressed in those three minutes?” he asked. “Or at least grab a robe?”
“You don’t get to show up at my door before nine o’clock on a Sunday morning and be offended that I’m in my pajamas,” she said.
“I’m not offended,” he told her. But he was inching close to being aroused, and that was dangerous territory for their relationship. “You just look a little...um...cold.”
He’d been trying really hard not to notice that the tight peaks of her nipples were pressing against the thin fabric of her top, but his eyes were clearly not accepting the commands from his brain, because his gaze kept dropping to her chest. And when he managed to lift it to her face again now, he saw that her cheeks were a darker shade of pink than the skimpy top that clung to her breasts.
“I’ll get dressed,” she decided. “But I’m taking my coffee with me.”
He nodded as she turned to go, failing again in his efforts not to notice that the hem of those shorts barely covered the sweet curve of her butt—and that she had really great legs.
Obviously he’d been too long without a woman if he was ogling a friend, he decided, and she deserved better than that. He swallowed another mouthful of his own coffee and nearly scalded his throat in the process, no doubt punishment for his inappropriate thoughts.
Erin and his sister had been roommates at the University of Texas and remained in close contact after graduation, though Kyle didn’t meet Erin until she came to Haven for Lucy’s wedding. There had been a hint of a spark in the beginning, but when he’d realized the sexy stranger’s connection to his sister, he’d ruthlessly extinguished it. Not just because he knew that Lucy wouldn’t approve and he didn’t want to be the cause of any more friction in his family, but also because any kind of romantic entanglement—no matter how temporary—with someone he might cross paths with again at family events was a complication he didn’t want.
A smart decision, as it turned out, because Erin’s visit to town for the wedding had resulted in her moving to Haven only a few months later. In the six years that had passed since then, Kyle and Erin had gotten to know one another a lot better and become good friends themselves. And while he’d never lost sight of the fact that she was a beautiful woman, he’d also never been tempted to make a move that would jeopardize their friendship.
Because as much as Kyle appreciated and enjoyed female companionship, his track record with relationships was abysmal. The biggest barrier to success was always his demanding work schedule. While there were plenty of women who liked the idea of dating a chef, none of them—or at least none that he’d gone out with—had understood that being in charge of a kitchen required him to be in the kitchen. Which meant that he worked every Friday and Saturday night and every major holiday, and stealing away for a romantic weekend wasn’t likely to ever happen.
Mikayla, a court clerk and his most recent ex, claimed to understand that his job required him to work weekends—but she’d been certain he didn’t mean every weekend. Of course, she worked eight-to-four Monday through Friday, and she’d started to resent that he was always at work when she got home and that they could never go away for a few days—or even a single Saturday night—because he was needed at the restaurant. After five months of dating—mostly late evenings, when the restaurant closed early, or Saturday mornings, before he went in to work—she’d decided that she wanted more than a few hours a week with someone who was too selfish and self-centered to appreciate everything she was offering.
He hadn’t dated another woman since she walked out the door. He simply didn’t have it in him to disappoint anyone else.
And the absolute last person he’d ever want to disappoint was Erin, which was just one more reason he had to forget how temptingly sexy she’d looked in those skimpy pj’s.
Easier said than done, he suspected.
