Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 69: Serving Judgments
Karl

“Watch it, you’re massacring those veggies,” John calls out, glancing over from the stove where he’s

sauteeing some garlic and mushrooms.

I chuckle, adjusting my grip on the knife. I’m supposed to be julienning some peppers, but instead I’ve

lost my train of thought and accidentally begun dicing them instead. “Yeah, well, they had it coming.”

John grins, shaking his head. “Y’know, you’re not as unfunny and st upid as I thought you were.”

“Could say the same about you,” I reply, gathering the sliced vegetables into a bowl.

Who would’ve thought? John and I, mortal enemies turned reluctant allies. A couple of weeks ago, we

could barely stand to be in the same room, but time and circumstances—and angry bosses—have a

way of forcing you to reassess your priorities.

“It’s all about collaboration,” John continues, his tone more philosophical than I thought the brute would

be capable of. “You can’t make a great dish with just one ingredient. Same with a kitchen. Everyone’s

got to pull their weight, contribute their flavor for the bigger picture.”

“You should put that on a plaque or something.”

“And have everyone roll their eyes? Nah, I’ll stick to cooking,” he laughs, adding a splash of white wine

to the pan, filling the air with a rich, aromatic scent.

The door to Abby’s office opens, and for a moment, my world narrows. She steps out, her eyes

scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone. When her gaze falls on me, my heart

leaps in anticipation.

But she averts her eyes, quickening her pace as she walks out of the kitchen.

The atmosphere turns brittle around me. John notices, his eyes narrowing. “Hey, snap out of it! You’re

burning the scallops.”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

I refocus on the task at hand, on the sound of the scallops sizzling in the pan, but the weight of last

dark cloud. We’d argued, voices raised, over her decision to compete in

I’d felt betrayed; she’d felt cornered. And now,

up big

swirl of regret and confusion. “Trust

down, as the kitchen grows quieter, the

another chef.

should mean as much to

yet, I let my insecurities, my fears, get in the

been driven

here?” John asks, snapping me back to

you tomorrow,” I say,

a somewhat concerned glance my way before exiting

hang it up. My eyes catch Abby’s office door, still closed, a barrier in

one.

I almost knock. But then, I decide that right now,

…

kitchen is closed, but the bar always stays open for a couple of

tastes a lot like failure. My eyes catch

there unanswered, piercing. Should I have reacted the

wish that she didn’t have to make things so complicated. This isn’t what

my wolf murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo

proud. Not territorial.”

whiskey in its glass. “She knew how much that party meant to

—”

to her,” my wolf retorts. “If you

show support. Show that you care. And not just about

her,” I shoot back defensively, but my wolf has

thoughts and

bartenders, walks over to refill my glass, her

pour that disdain she feels for me into the

the look?” I ask, setting down the

instead of

I think I can

up, surprise mingling with a

aren’t I?”

you missed being supportive of Abby when

voice

So she knows.

I know what went down last night, how you

the nerve to get angry

slapped. Chloe has always been

for right now. For a moment, I