Vann

Vann could hardly believe what he was looking at. What were the chances that his favorite chef in the whole entire world was at Ash Boudreaux’s engagement party?

He was not prepared to lay eyes on this beauty tonight, but now his eyes could not stop staring at her.

Vann had made a point to eat at GiGi’s Cafe twice each time he came home to New Orleans to take a break from filming. Once as a disguised customer in the dining room. And then, wearing an entirely different kind of disguise on full-moon nights, she would feed him out the back door to the alley behind the cafe.

And now, here he was in front of her as a man, undisguised, feeling totally exposed. He already knew he loved this woman. She was kind and generous and ridiculously talented, and had a gorgeous scent on her. Even in a chef’s uniform, with her hair pulled back in a bun, he could see the curve of her breasts, the tempting line of her jaw, the way she moved. It was all working for him. And she had absolutely no idea who he really was.

And now she was walking toward him carrying a platter of something that smelled delicious, and he was starving.

The chattering Barbie doll fangirl hanging on him finally shut up when Vann took an appetizer off of GiGi’s platter and handed it to her. The fangirl looked at him and giggled, “Oh, I can’t eat that. I haven’t eaten meat or bread in five years.”

Vann looked from her to GiGi and back at her. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

“Candi with an ‘i.’”

“Candi-with-an-i, it was nice to meet you. Thanks for watching. I hope you have a wonderful time at the party, and now I have to talk business with the chef here.”

Candi eyed GiGi resentfully and clomped away in heels that were about two inches too tall for comfort.

GiGi looked at him and smiled. My god, he would do anything just to have this woman smile at him like that and bring him food every day.

He winked at GiGi as he picked up another pig in a blanket and said, “Imagine not eating meat or bread. Why do you even watch a cooking show? Why be a fan of someone who’s clearly a carnivore?”

GiGi smirked. “I can’t even imagine why that would be.”

Then the taste hit him. It was a maple and cardamom-infused mini pancake wrapped around pork sausage with a natural skin and goat cheese. “Oh good god. Did you make this?”

“Yes, why?”

“This might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. Do you do your own casings?”

“Yes, I do.”

Vann thought he might orgasm right there in his pants.

“How are you even able to do that in that teeny tiny restaurant?” he asked.

GiGi’s eyes widened. “You know my cafe?”

He blurted out, “Sure! I eat there all the time!”

GiGi eyed him suspiciously. “That’s not possible. There’s no way you would walk into my restaurant and my entire wait staff not alert me. They all have the hots for you.”

He blushed. Oh god, was he really blushing? “Yeah, I’ve gotten really good at disguises.”

“Oh. I’m still impressed you even know who I am by sight.”

Now he was almost busted, so he turned on the most charming television-worthy smile he could muster. “Well, I’m not gonna lie. I like your food so much I found out your name and then creeped on your Facebook page.”

She laughed. “Weirdo alert! Why not just friend me?”

He shook his head and shrugged. Fuck, this woman was busting his balls. It had been a while since anybody had dared to, but he kind of liked this. Who was he kidding? He really liked it. Finally he went with a half version of the truth. “Because I’m a weirdo and uh…I thought you were hot and I was content to just be obsessed with you from afar.”

Her eyes widened and she said, “Wow. And now that we’ve met in person?”

“And now I’m going to be a super creeper because I’m full-on obsessed.”

“Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. How does she do that and still look so sexy?

“Don’t believe me? You don’t know what it’s like to travel to foreign countries, feeling like a fish out of water, and then come home to a beautiful woman from your hometown, bringing you food on a silver platter. It’s true love for a man like me.”

Her mouth fell open.

Yeah, he knew this approach was over the top and an insane way to hit on a woman. But he had never not taken risks. And look where he was? All these risks had landed him an amazing job and right back here to his mate.

Before he could nail down a date night with this woman, Ash and his girl sidled up.

“Ash! Congrats, my man!” Vann’s pack buddy hugged him and they instinctively let out a howl together.

“Thanks, buddy. May I introduce you to my fiancée Rosemary DuChamps? By day, a kindergarten teacher at Saint Mary’s and by night, destroyer of men.”

Vann kissed her hand chivalrously. She said, “So nice to meet you, Vann. I see you’ve met GiGi, my dearest cousin and one of my oldest friends. She’s going to be doing the cakes and all the catering for the wedding. I see you’re enjoying her food already.”

Ash suddenly looked super awkward and then said, “Um, baby girl, I apologize. In my haste I asked Vann to have his people do the food. I feel like a right idiot.”

Shit. How do I fix this? thought Vann. Then, he came up with the perfect solution.

“GiGi, why don't you take the job, you need it more than I do.”

GiGi looked stung by his words and he realized what that sounded like. “That came out wrong…”

She put up her hand and pasted on a concrete smile. “No, no, it’s fine. I mean when you have Vann Fucking West at your disposal, how could you not accept his offer to cater your wedding? You’d be insane not to.”

Yikes. He had offended her and taken away a gig. He felt like a total piece of shit. This is how he repaid her, after months of her feeding his pathetic, hungry ass out in the back alley?

Rosemary broke in then. “Look. How about this? GiGi, we’ll have the rehearsal dinner at your cafe, and then of course you’ll do the cake.”

Ash nodded. “Sounds like a fair compromise to me,” he said.

Vann felt like such an ass. He could tell GiGi was still not happy but she was evidently going to roll with it.

“I’ll let GiGi call it.”

“It’s fine,” she said, her face unreadable.

“Think of it this way,” Vann said. “We’ll all be handling what we do best. You’re really a pastry chef at heart. I couldn’t stand to do the cakes anyway. I am not a dessert man, by any stretch.”

GiGi looked up at him and smirked. “You perhaps haven’t tasted my desserts yet.”

That he hadn’t. “Soon enough, angel face,” he said.