Free Ready To Burn (Due South Book 3) by Tracey Alvarez

right.”
    Sugar and cinnamon coated his fingertips, too. Hell would freeze over before he licked them.
    “Terms, huh? What sort of terms?”
    “— Dad . Just hear him out, willya?”
    West. Doing the big brother thing of running interference, because everyone knew he was Bill’s favorite son. First born, first priority.
    “So, these terms…” Bill said.
    On the flights here, Del had thought a lot about how he could work at Due South and not lose his mind. B and C-grade restaurants weren’t beneath him—he’d worked in them before, and due to screwing up his life, he’d be doing it again for the foreseeable future. But running a kitchen with Bill criticizing his every move? Not. Gonna. Happen.
    “Two terms, non-negotiable.”
    Bill folded his arms across a chest much skinnier than the one in Del’s memory. He’d bet a hundred bucks the old man had bitten his tongue in order to prevent himself from telling Del to piss off.
    “One…” He met Bill’s cool stare without blinking. “When I’m on shift, you stay out of the kitchen. I won’t work with you breathing down my neck.”
    Bill harrumphed but didn’t comment.
    “Two. If there’s any disagreement amongst the staff with how I run my shifts, I’ll discuss those issues with West and the staff in question.”
    His glance slid once again to Shaye. She stared at him, lip curling slightly as if she’d sniffed Bill’s probiotic yogurt and found it had gone sour.
    “I’m not working for you as your son. In fact, consider me a contractor, not an employee.”
    “A contractor?” Bill said. “Well, bugger me. I still don’t know why you’re here.”
    Even though Del was a total screw up in other areas, he wouldn’t be dissed on his cooking. “Because I’m damn good at what I do.”
    “And because we need him,” West said quickly. “I don’t give a shit about why he’s here if it means you’ll stop working yourself half to death.”
    Silence dripped around the table as they all stared at each other. Trying to ignore the fact that Bill Westlake already looked half worked to death.
    Del shifted on his chair so he faced Shaye. “I know you’re pissed about me being here, but it doesn’t have to be a competition. Instead of working under me, how about you work with me?”
    Shaye scratched the bridge of her nose with her middle finger, rolling her pretty eyes.
    Del squished a grin. Yep, under that sugary-sweet exterior, a little wolverine bared her cutely sharp teeth. He kinda had to admit he’d enjoy baiting it out of her.
    Bill caught sight of Shaye’s gesture and gave a gravelly chuckle. “I’ll stay out of the kitchen while you two battle it out. I haven’t the energy to avoid the fireworks.” His lips tugged down. “I’ve worked my bum off in that kitchen making Due South what it is. I’ll agree to your damn terms, but just don’t screw it up, ya hear?”
    “I’ll try not to let you down.” Would Bill even understand the irony coating his voice? Doubtful.
    West said, “I’ll go grab the paperwork.”
    Shaye stood, her face a study in composure. “Are we done? I’ve got prep to do.”
    West and Bill’s gaze sliced to him, sizing him up. Head chefs in big restaurants didn’t bother with the menial tasks like food prep or making the daily stocks and sauces for service. But this wasn’t a big restaurant. This was Due South, where even as a boy, when he’d first been old enough to take an interest in cooking, he’d been expected to chip in and help.
    “I’ll come back with you in a minute. We’ll go through the details, and I’ll give you a hand.”
    “Super,” she said.
    Against his will, Del’s gaze zeroed in on the twitch of her perky ass as she stalked away from the table and disappeared into the kitchen. Ring that bell, Pavlov .
    Working with the little wolverine would be a whole barrel of laughs.
     
    ***
     
    Calm before the storm.
    The words spun through Del’s head as he and Shaye worked the last tickets of