Even in the middle of an otherwise chaotic kitchen, I feel Claire’s warmth in my arms—it helps me forget about the mess that’s happening. The scent of her fills my nose and gets my blood running hot, and I want to squeeze her tighter into me.

I want to walk her back to the counter and press a kiss into her, bending her backward over the hard surface so I can feel her better and show her how I’d treat someone I’m really engaged to.

Those thoughts start to get me wrapped up in my own head and make my cock stir between my legs. I want to kiss her. How would she take it? Would she like it? Would she push me away? Could it ruin this whole business plan, or comfort her in the middle of a crisis?

I snap back to the real world when a waiter suddenly throws the kitchen door open and sweeps in, eyes locking on us immediately.

“Um, sir,” the waiter says as I break the hug and glare at him. “And ma’am,” he adds to Claire, “both your parents are here for lunch, they wanted to ask if you could spare a moment and come say hello.”

Impatience wells up in me, but the apologetic look on the waiter’s face reminds me that this was in no way his fault, so I take a deep breath and count to ten.

“Chef Alonso,” I say, looking over to Jorge, “can-”

“I’ll survive without her for a few minutes,” he says quickly, waving me off, “but no more than that. Go!”

I give a sharp nod to him and then to Claire, and we set out into the restaurant to confront our parents.

Some of the guests lift their heads from their meals to watch us as we walk across the restaurant floor, and I wonder if they’ve heard the latest celebrity gossip. I want to hold out hope that not many people keep up with that in general, that maybe they’re just staring because we own this business, but whatever. I have other things to worry about now.

Our parents are sitting at a corner table by the window. Claire’s parents face us, and they wave us over when we’re halfway across the restaurant.

“Oh, my baby!” Castilla gushes, standing up to give her daughter a hug and kisses on the cheek before she can even react. My own parents stand up too, Dad giving me a firm handshake and Mom a European kiss.

“We heard the news just as we were walking in,” my mom says, squeezing my hand before sitting down.

Claire and I exchange a quick glance before taking our own seats. Claire opens her mouth to speak, but her mom beats her to the punch.

“I am just so thrilled that this is working out the way we hoped!” Castilla blurts, her face delighted. “We knew the two of you working so close together might bring you even closer, but I never thought it would build up so fast.”

Claire frowns. “I—”

“You’re moving awfully fast, you know that, right?” her dad interrupts, chuckling. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—we all had whirlwind relationships too, you know. When it happens, it happens, and when you know, you just know.”

“I just wish you would have said something!” my mom interjects, crossing her legs and giving me a pointed smile. “You never struck me as the types who might surprise us like that. I’m not complaining, but a little notice might have been nice.”

“What your mother’s saying is that she wishes we could have made that party the other night a real engagement party,” Dad explains with a smile. “Really though, congratulations, you two. This is fabulous.”

“Oh, we’ll have to work out a date for the wedding soon,” Castilla says, clearly in her comfort zone. “What do you think, do they seem like summer wedding types, or something a little less traditional?”

“The mountains are beautiful in the winter,” my mom adds.

“Hey, can—” Claire tries to say.

“Oh they are!” Castilla says with a wistful smile. “Can you just imagine the two of them under the arch with the sun setting behind them?”

“Nothing’s tying us to the state, either,” my dad points out thoughtfully. “Somewhere on the west coast might not be a bad idea, especially if we want a better chance of getting these two some privacy from the presses.”

“About that—” I start.

“Oh Ben, by the way, you shouldn’t say those kinds of things in front of a camera,” my mom adds, frowning at me. “I know you’ve got the jitters, but that’s no way to talk about your soon-to-be wife.”

“Really, just drop a text next time, hm?” Claire’s dad says with a chuckle.

“Oh, we have to go to my friend Melanie’s designer bridal boutique opening this week,” Castilla says suddenly, eyes growing somehow twice as wide, and my mom’s face lights up as well. “They’d just die to have you for the grand opening!”

“Oh, she finally got that off the ground? I’m so excited for her—Claire, dear, you’ll be in very good hands. Melanie went to school in Paris, the two of you would get along wonderfully. Oh, she just loves cooking, and-”

“Stop!” Claire blurts out, and the whole table goes silent for a few moments, everyone staring at her.

I’ve got to say . . . I’m impressed. Not many people can get my parents to stop chattering once they’ve started, especially when they’re excited. And I’ve never seen them this excited, not even when Blue Mojave was featured on Discovery Travel.

“We’re just a little excited, honey, I know this is all happening a little fast,” Castilla laughs, waving a hand. “But if you want to complain about things moving too fast, you’re really not one to talk.”

“I mean, stop trying to run my life for me,” Claire says in a firm and clear tone, making eye contact with each person at the table. “This is completely insane!”

“Dear, we’re just trying to help you two out,” my mom says in that calm yet meaningful voice she uses when she’s trying to regain control of a conversation. It’s a handy skill for an attorney to have. “You’re very young, and while you’re obviously enthusiastic about all this, it’s a lot for anyone to get their head around.”

“I appreciate it,” Claire says tersely, “but this is all—”

I quickly grab Claire’s hand under the table and give it a reassuring squeeze.

She looks at me, confused, and I subtly nod my head back at the crowded restaurant and the frantic shouts coming from the kitchen. I give her a look, sympathetic but urgent, and I hope she gets the message.

I’m completely on board with whatever she’s about to say, but now is definitely not the time to have this conversation with our parents. She clenches her jaw, but she nods back to me, taking a deep breath and turning back to our parents.

“I’ll decide when and where I get married,” Claire says carefully, “and I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“We’re in the middle of a very busy grand opening,” I add, looking around, “which is going spectacularly, in large part thanks to Claire’s work, but we need to get back to it if we’re going to keep up at this rate.”

“Let’s dial things back a few notches. This is . . . about as new and shocking for us as it is for you, let’s put it that way,” Claire says.

“Very much so,” I add, running my hand through my hair.

“Well, alright, son,” my dad says before the others can speak up, and I give him a grateful smile. “We’ll be here, just don’t do anything too crazy.”

“Enjoy your lunch, and thanks again for coming by,” I say, taking Claire by the hand and standing up. It’s an almost unconscious action, but it feels right somehow.

We say a brief goodbye to our parents, then hurry back toward the kitchens and sweep in through the door, closing it behind us.

“Oh. My. God,” Claire says, leaning back against the door and clenching her eyes shut. “What did we do to get the most aggressively supportive parents in the city?”

“At least they’re not angry,” I say. “Last thing we need is a scene out there.”

“Yes,” Jorge shouts across the kitchen at us, “because we’ve already got a scene back here! Claire, I need you helping Natasha with those eggs five minutes ago!”

“Yes, chef!” Claire says on reflex, and we look to each other for one last moment.

“We’ll talk to our parents after work tonight,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “Promise.”

I wouldn’t touch most employees like that, but Claire seems to be comforted by it, and the warm smile she gives me before darting off makes me feel at ease.

Once she’s gone, I head back out to the restaurant floor to make sure no other crisis is unfolding. I could really use a drink, but I also need to be in top form.

At least nobody will be able to say Ocotillo had a dull grand opening.