“The wine fridge is right there. There’s a sauv blanc and a chablis on the top shelf that will be great with the asopao.” Tariq nodded and started moving. “Sauv blanc is your favorite, Alba, right?” I didn’t narrow my eyes at him because we had witnesses; I just nodded once.

“Chablis for me, hon,” José called to Tariq and parked his butt on a stool next to Julia and Salome, while I stood in the periphery of the kitchen like a loser. My friends all looked happy as hell while my ex-boss whipped up a gourmet meal for them. Freeloaders.

I didn’t know where to put my eyes, every time I glanced at Julia she kept mouthing shit like “relax” and “you’re being a weirdo.” But letting my eyes land on Theo was one hundred percent out of the question. It looked like he’d taken a post-workout shower and he was now wearing a white T-shirt that looked painted on and gray sweats that left absolutely nothing to the imagination when it came to his groin area.

“Alba Serena, ven aca.” He snapped the words, and crooked a finger at me, and I swore my soul left my body for a couple of heartbeats.

“What?” I asked, still trying to keep some space between us, like taking the few steps to join him in the kitchen would put me biting distance from a caged tiger.

“Come here, I need your help.” He employed that commanding tone that I’d heard him use a thousand times—on me, on his other staff. But now, there was something right under the order that made my stomach feel molten. Playful but stern and my body reacted to that call in ways that could get me in a hell of a lot of trouble.

From my peripheral vision I could see Julia and José both making shooing motions at me with their hands, and I decided it was probably best to keep these assholes out of the picture because they were no help at all. I cut my eyes at them and went into the kitchen.

Fuck, he was wearing the aftershave I liked. The one with bay rum and black pepper.

“You scared of me now?” He said it really low, like he didn’t want the others to hear.

Not scared of him per se, but definitely a little apprehensive about the proximity to that dick print and massive thigh combo in those tight sweats. “Of course I’m not,” I squeaked and came the rest of the way until I was standing next to him in front of the kitchen counter. “What do you need?”

“Just some help mincing this garlic and cilantro. Can you do that for me?” I almost, almost, said yes, Daddy.

I needed to calm down before I did something really stupid. The man just needed some shit chopped up.