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

restless. “You messed up big time,” he

I reply, my mind a swirl of regret and confusion. “Trust me.

as the kitchen grows quieter, the realization

restaurant. She’s not just another chef.

dreams and desires should mean as much to me

fears, get in the way. I shake my head, frustrated

been driven between

out. You good here?” John asks,

you tomorrow,” I

way before exiting the kitchen.

eyes catch Abby’s office door, still closed, a barrier

one.

decide that right now, I

…

the bar always stays open for a couple of hours longer.

of whiskey that tastes a lot like failure. My eyes catch my reflection in the

piercing. Should I have reacted the

have to make things

murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo in

proud. Not territorial.”

its glass.

—”

much this competition means to her,”

need to show support. Show that

I shoot back defensively, but my wolf has already withdrawn, leaving

and

on cue, Chloe, one of the bartenders, walks over to refill

she’s trying to pour that disdain she feels for me into the

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

now instead of

I can

with a touch of

aren’t I?”

how you missed being

voice

So she knows.

everything, Karl. I know what went down last night, how you made her

the nerve to get angry about her

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

for right now. For a