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

over me like a dark cloud. We’d argued, voices raised, over her

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

me stirs, restless. “You messed up big time,” he

a swirl of regret and confusion. “Trust me.

as the kitchen grows quieter, the

restaurant. She’s not just another chef. She’s someone

and desires should mean as much to me as

fears, get in the way. I shake

been driven between

here?” John asks, snapping

tomorrow,” I say, forcing

casting a somewhat concerned glance my way before exiting the kitchen. Alone now,

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

one.

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

…

always stays open for a couple of

a lot like failure. My

there unanswered, piercing. Should I have reacted the way

have to make things so complicated.

his voice a gravelly echo in

proud. Not territorial.”

the whiskey in its glass. “She knew how much that

—”

to her,” my

you need to show support. Show that you care. And not just

do care for her,” I shoot back defensively, but my wolf has

and my

cue, Chloe, one of the bartenders, walks over

to pour that disdain she feels for me into the glass along with the

look?” I ask, setting down the glass harder than I

now instead

asking, I think I can manage both,” she snaps,

a

aren’t I?”

how you missed being supportive of Abby

voice drips with

So she knows.

down last

you’ve got the nerve to get angry about her

has always been direct,

prepared for right now. For a moment, I almost consider being vindictive