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

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

contest despite our earlier agreement. I’d felt betrayed; she’d felt cornered.

stirs, restless. “You messed up big time,” he says, a growl wrapped in a

I reply, my mind a swirl

as the kitchen grows quieter, the realization sinks

not just another chef.

should mean as

in the way. I

that’s been

John asks,

you tomorrow,” I

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

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

one.

decide that right now, I think I’d

…

kitchen is closed, but the bar always stays open for

tastes a lot like failure. My

have reacted

wish that she didn’t have to make

life, Karl,” my wolf murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo in

proud. Not territorial.”

its glass. “She knew how much

—”

to her,” my wolf retorts. “If you ever

to show support. Show that you care. And

care for her,” I shoot back defensively, but

and my

the bartenders, walks over to refill my glass, her eyes cold,

to pour that disdain she feels

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

instead

who’s asking, I think I can manage both,”

eyebrows shoot up, surprise mingling with a touch

aren’t I?”

Oh, you mean like how you missed being supportive of Abby when she

Her voice drips

So she knows.

what went down last night, how you made her feel. After

through, you’ve got the nerve

I’ve been slapped. Chloe has always been direct, no-nonsense, but

wasn’t prepared for right now. For a moment, I almost consider