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

a dark cloud. We’d argued, voices raised,

earlier agreement. I’d felt betrayed; she’d felt cornered.

messed up big time,” he says, a

a swirl of regret

quieter,

another chef. She’s someone I care deeply about,

mean as much to me as my

my fears, get in the way.

been driven

heading out. You good here?” John asks, snapping me

tomorrow,” I say, forcing

concerned glance my way before exiting the kitchen. Alone

Abby’s

one.

a moment, I almost knock. But then, I decide that right now, I think I’d rather have

…

for a couple

tastes a lot like failure. My eyes catch my reflection

Should I have reacted the way I

that she didn’t have to make things

Karl,” my wolf murmurs, his voice a gravelly echo in my mind. “You

proud. Not territorial.”

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

—”

you know how much this competition means to her,” my wolf retorts.

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

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

and

of the bartenders, walks over to

pour that disdain she feels for me into the glass

ask, setting down the glass harder than I mean to. “You’re

now instead

I can manage both,” she

a touch of indignation. “I’m missing

aren’t I?”

you missed being supportive of Abby when she

Her voice drips with

So she knows.

I know what went down last night, how you

got the nerve

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

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