Having seen his brother in multiple kitchens before and hearing some of the stories, Luke knew the two of them were probably holding back on the insults and cursing they would regularly indulge in. Olivia raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything when Luke didn’t. If she ever came down to observe an evening in the kitchen while it was in high gear, she’d hear a hell of a lot worse than that.

Probably especially because of Nick’s little crush.

“Fine,” Nick said, cutting the word off with a clash of his teeth. He swiveled his head to glare at Olivia and Luke while Avery fumed beside him. “It’s sausage and lentil soup.”

Mmm. Sounded good. Smelled good too.

Ignoring the two chefs, Luke gave Olivia a little smile as they each lifted a spoonful to their lips of the different soups.

It didn’t surprise Luke at all when every single dish was fantastic. Avery did win the soup round though, both Luke and Olivia thought Nick’s—which turned out to be A—was a little too spicy. Especially considering all the different palates which would be coming through the restaurant.

Nick muttered under his breath while Avery smiled smugly. He turned away to get the next dish.

“He wants everything to be too spicy,” she whispered, leaning forward so her face was right next to the window.

“I heard that!”

Olivia and Luke exchanged a look, hiding their snickers as a scowling Nick thrust two plates through the pass-through. Pasta carbonara, but one of them looked a lot creamier than the other.

“A, B,” Nick said, giving Luke a dirty look for laughing at him.

Nick won that round when both Luke and Olivia liked the creamier version of the dish better. The superior look he gave Avery was one Luke had seen far too often during their childhood.

“Whatever, cheater,” Avery muttered. “It’s not a real carbonara.”

“But it’s what people like better,” Nick shot back at her. “It’s what they expect when they see carbonara on the menu.”

“Yeah, if they’re ignorant.”

“This is better than dinner and a movie,” Olivia whispered to Luke as the other two continued to bicker. He snickered and leaned back towards her, sliding a stealthy hand around her waist.

“So does that make this a date?”

The back of his hand stung as she gave it a swift smack, making him yank it back.

“No,” she said coolly. Then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled his lips down to hers. “But this might.”

She tasted like cream and butter, her lips soft and mobile under his. Luke kept his hands to himself, gripping the counter in front of him, afraid that if he tried to get a grip on her hips again she might stop the kiss.

Mean Domme.

Fucking hot Domme.