Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chapter 69

#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

cloud. We’d argued, voices

felt

restless. “You messed up big time,” he says, a

swirl of

the kitchen grows quieter, the

She’s not just another chef. She’s someone I care deeply

dreams and desires should mean as much to me

fears, get in the way. I shake

been

John asks, snapping me

you tomorrow,” I

my way before exiting the kitchen. Alone now,

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

one.

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

…

open for a

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

piercing. Should I have

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

voice a gravelly echo in

proud. Not territorial.”

its glass. “She knew

—”

competition means to her,” my wolf retorts. “If you

Show that you care. And not

shoot back defensively, but my wolf has already

and my

bartenders, walks over to refill my glass,

disdain she feels for me into the glass

ask, setting down the glass harder than I mean

instead

think I can manage

shoot up, surprise mingling with a touch

aren’t I?”

how you missed being supportive of

Her voice drips with

So she knows.

me everything, Karl. I know what went down

the

has always been

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

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