I released the air from my lungs, glad that he’d gotten distracted by another subject.
I sent him an exasperated look. “Please. You don’t think it’s obvious that I like to eat what I cook. Isn’t that one of the reasons that you refused to meet up with me a year ago?”
“I had no idea what you looked like, Shelby,” Wyatt answered shortly. “I’ve only seen pictures of you and Kaleb as children. I didn’t want to do a blind date because I am, in fact, an asshole, and you’re the beloved cousin of one of my best friends. I didn’t want you to be disappointed, and I had no desire to have a romantic relationship with any woman. Still don’t. I had no idea that he’d already cleared the idea with you, so I also didn’t know that my refusal would hurt your feelings.”
He hadn’t apologized, but I realized that what Wyatt had just said was probably as close to an apology as he ever got.
His answer had surprised me, and I gaped at him, unsure of exactly what he was saying.
He really didn’t know what I looked like?
I supposed that could be true.
It wasn’t like Wyatt went to Montana often, and when he had, his visits had been extremely brief.
There was probably no reason to think he’d seen a recent picture of me before that proposed meeting over a year ago.
I’d probably jumped to that conclusion because of my own insecurities.
“I only agreed because I wanted to make a friend in San Diego,” I shared openly. “I didn’t want a romantic relationship, either. I didn’t know anyone when I first got here to California. Initially, I came here for a chef position that a friend from Chicago had offered me. By the time I relocated and was ready to start the new job, she’d accepted another position in Tokyo and was ready to leave. I saw her for one day and then she was gone.”
“And the new job?” Wyatt asked in a curious tone.
I sighed. “The restaurant went out of business a short time later. I could have gotten hired somewhere else, but my blog was really growing, so I decided to do gig work with some people I met while I was working at that restaurant. I wanted to work harder on my blog. I was tired of working for other people, and the pay wasn’t great at the restaurant.”
“Did I hear you say something about your blog?” Tori asked from her position several feet away. “It’s amazing, Wyatt. Don’t let her tell you anything else. Her following is fantastic. I just wish she’d start doing videos. I’d love to see her actually making some of her recipes.”
Because Tori had spoken so boisterously, everyone seated around the fire pit was shooting me a speculative look. I explained loud enough for everyone to hear. “I have the equipment to video now, but the kitchen in my apartment isn’t large enough or updated enough for that. It’s tiny. The videos will have to wait until I can get a place with a nicer kitchen.”
“You can use mine,” Tori offered. “Cooper and I are both gone all day.”
“Or ours,” Savannah said. “I work at home most of the time, but I’m always up for company.”
“Mine is available all day, too,” Taylor added.
“You could come to our place,” Harlow said enthusiastically.
I looked from one woman to another, flabbergasted that every single one of them was willing to let me use their kitchens.
I hadn’t known any of them that long.
I shook my head slowly. “I appreciate all of the offers, but I couldn’t intrude—”
“Not necessary,” Wyatt cut in matter-of-factly. “I’m willing to make a deal with Shelby. One that would benefit both of us. She can cook and video at my place if I get to eat what she cooks for dinner. I also just lost my dog sitter for the sad excuse of a canine that Jax foisted off on me a few months ago. I’d be willing to pay Shelby to come to my house to entertain that animal and cook during the day.”
“I told you that it’s only temporary,” Jax explained. “The veteran who was supposed to take Xena had to move and couldn’t have a dog in his new apartment. We don’t have space for her anymore at the training center. She’s an excellent companion dog, and I’ll find her a new owner. Give me another month or two. She likes you, even if the feeling isn’t exactly mutual yet.”
“She’s a pain in my ass,” Wyatt grumbled as he looked at me. “Are you interested?”
Interested?
God, I’d cooked for over fifty guests in that glorious kitchen of Wyatt’s.
It was a chef’s dream kitchen, and it would be perfect for my videos and photos. It would be an amazing opportunity to extend my blog.
And it did sound like the agreement would be advantageous for both of us.
Obviously, Wyatt could easily hire a private chef for himself, but apparently hadn’t for some reason.
I wouldn’t feel like I was taking advantage if he was getting something out of the deal, too.
“I don’t want you to pay me if we make this deal. I’d be benefiting enough,” I said hesitantly. “I love dogs. I’ve had several shelter dogs, but I can’t have one in my apartment here. And I’d be happy to leave what I cook on video for your dinner every night. Is Xena aggressive?”
“Oh, God, no,” Tori drawled. “She’s the sweetest little French bulldog you’ve ever seen. I’ve worked with her at the training center. It’s not usually a great breed for service dogs, but we came across her at the shelter, and we knew she’d make a good companion dog for the right person. She’s just a little…stubborn. We don’t have anyone who just needs a companion dog at the moment. Most of the people waiting need a dog with special skills, but we’ll find placement for Xena. We just need a little more time.”
I knew that Cooper and Tori worked with Jax as volunteers at his training center for service dogs for veterans.
I was also aware that the place occasionally got a little crowded when they had a high demand and a lot of dogs in training at the same time.
“She’s not sweet,” Wyatt argued as he fixed his disgruntled gaze on his sister. “She snores louder than a full-grown, male human, and she passes gas like one, too. She also has allergies, which means she needs special medications and even special shampoo. That dog is more high-maintenance than any human I’ve ever met. She obviously has a bladder the size of a pea because she wants to go outside a thousand times a day. You also neglected to tell me that her breed has separation anxiety. She whines every single morning when I leave.”
“Lots of breeds have separation anxiety,” Jax muttered. “And she wouldn’t be having separation anxiety if she wasn’t already attached to you.”