Free Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One by Robin Kaye

her talking to herself. Skye closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hearing her mother’s voice in her head.
Breathe, Skye. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
All the deep-breathing and relaxation techniques she’d learned in the yoga classes her mother dragged her to weren’t helping. Of course, she’d always scoffed at them. Maybe she needed to start meditating like her mother said she should. “Logan.” The stool teetered.
    He stepped closer and offered her a hand. “That’s dangerous.”
    Not as dangerous as touching him was to her mental health.
    “If you need the storeroom rearranged, you should ask Harrison to take care of it.”
    She looked at his hand, and then at his face, not really wanting to get the electric shock she knew would assault her if she touched him.
    In one swift move, Logan lifted her off the stool as if she were a child, and set her on the tiled floor.
    She really needed to be grounded around this guy. Even through clothing, Logan’s touch was like sucking on a live wire.
    “No more climbing on wobbly stools. I can’t afford to lose another cook. Harrison’s still out front with the rest of the kitchen staff—I’ll send him in. Let him help you rearrange things.”
    “I was trying to keep a lid on the overtime.”
    “I’d rather pay overtime than a hospital bill.”
    Skye bit her tongue. This wasn’t one of her obnoxious brothers; this was her boss. She never realized what a bigdifference that made. “Thank you—that would be great. I need to be able to reach things. Maybe I can get a step stool in here too. I don’t want to pull someone away from their work just because I’m short.”
    He laughed at that, showing off his white even teeth. Wow, the man had a great smile. She reminded herself not to drool and did the deep-breathing thing again. Still not helping. Neither was being in a small room with Logan—especially since he seemed to fill the space. She slid past him into the kitchen. “I also need to pull the pots off that rack.” She turned in a full circle, trying to figure out where to store them that would be out of the way and yet easily accessible. “I guess it’s going to take some time to figure out a new setup that will work for all of us.”
    Logan tilted his head and stared.
    “What is it?” She walked around him to stir the simmering broth.
    “Nothing.”
    Still, he stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. She took a spoon and tasted the broth and turned off the heat. It was good. Hers was better, but if she added a bouquet garni and let it simmer for a half hour or so, it would do.
    “Are you cooking?”
    “No. I’m just testing the chicken broth. I’m picky and wanted to make sure it was something I wanted to use. Why, are you hungry?”
    There was that smile again. “I’m a guy. I’m always hungry.”
    “I can throw together a quick Stracciatella.”
    “A what?”
    “It’s chicken broth, with strands of egg with spinach,and lots of Parmesan cheese. The broth needs a few more spices, but it will be a quick fix. And then, since I’m in an Italian mood, how about linguini with clam sauce?”
    “We have clams?”
    “I stopped at the fish market before I came over. I was going to cook myself dinner later, but I can easily fix it here.”
    He slid a stool from beneath the worktable and sat. “You have enough?”
    “For two? Of course.”
    “That sounds great on one condition.”
    Deep breath, here it comes. “What’s that?”
    “Let me reimburse you for the food you bought.”
    She pulled the clams out of the walk-in, trying to keep busy. “It’s not necessary. You supply the wine and we’ll call it good.”
    “It’s not negotiable.”
    “Fine.” She smiled to herself. “Just for that, I’m not going to let you have any of my dessert.”
    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on bent knees. “What’s for dessert?”
    “I have a tray of chocolate tiramisu chilling in my refrigerator at home.”
    “When did