Taught by the Chef

  First Times in Trout Creek #4

  By Hazel J .North

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Taught by the Chef

  Copyright

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  Chapter One | Emma

  Chapter Two | Stuart

  Chapter Three | Emma

  Chapter Four | Stuart

  Chapter Five | Emma

  Chapter Six | Stuart

  Chapter Seven | Emma

  Epilogue | One year later | Stuart

  Author’s note

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  Taught by the Chef

  Emma

  As if falling asleep against a stranger’s shoulder during my flight back home isn’t bad enough, I wake up with my hand on his crown jewels. I’ve never gotten off a plane so fast, hoping to put the embarrassing situation behind me as soon as possible. But when the same guy saves me from a horrible blind date at the restaurant where he’s the chef, I’m left craving more.

  Stuart

  I haven’t been able to get the gorgeous curvy girl from my flight out of my head, so imagine my surprise when I spot her having dinner at my restaurant. The only problem is the disrespectful jerk she’s on a date with. I can’t wait to boot him from his table so I can show Emma how a real man treats his woman. Bring out the whipped cream because I’m ready to devour her.

  Taught by the Chef is a steamy short instalove romance full of heat and heart with NO cliffhangers, NO cheating, and a Guaranteed HEA. This book is part of the First Times in Trout Creek series, a steamy romance series set in a small mountain town where every insanely hot guy finds a sweet & inexperienced curvy woman to love.

  Copyright

  © Taught by the Chef by Hazel J. North

  2022

  All Rights Reserved

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

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  Chapter One

  Emma

  “What’s your worst tasting chocolate? I’m not talking about an unpopular flavor. I want one that’s truly awful.”

  The guy behind the counter shoots me an offended look. “We only sell quality chocolate at this airport, Mademoiselle.”

  “Fair enough. In that case, what’s your worst tasting quality chocolate?”

  I’m met with a horrified look this time. I want to tell the guy that him selling me awful-tasting chocolate won’t hurt his shop’s image. It’s nothing but a prank my brother and I pull every birthday.

  It all started with him gifting me a bottle of perfume that smelled like a garbage truck on a hot day. Just the memory of it makes me queasy. I got back at him by sending a quartet to his office, who sang the cheesiest song I could think of. Apparently, they caught him off-guard by the cooler while he was flirting with a new colleague. Boy, did I have to listen to him going on and on about me cockblocking him.

  And then he got back at me by telling the only guy I ever brought home for Christmas that I had a snake fetish. It ended in tears. For everyone involved. That day, I swore he’d never win this stupid game, even if it meant pranking him until he was old and back in diapers.

  So, yeah, neither of us is planning on giving in and being the first to stop this ridiculous thing. Which is why I need some horrible-tasting chocolate before I board my flight home.

  The guy crosses his arms over his chest. “If you could please decide and make a purchase? There’s a long line of customers behind you, and they don’t want to miss their flight because of your weird request for horrible chocolate, which we don’t sell.”

  Wow. That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?

  I shake my head. “Never mind. I’ll go search for some smelly cheese instead. Do you know if they sell gorgonzola around here? The really old kind that turns your stomach when you open the packet?”

  “Please leave, Mademoiselle. You’re scaring people.” It comes out as a beg rather than a question.

  The man behind me snickers, and I turn around. “Is something wrong? Do you think this is funny?”

  “No, I’m just glad I’m not the one you’re shopping for.”

  “I’m not a bad person. Believe me, the guy receiving my gift deserves it.”

  “Is he your boyfriend? Did he have sex with another woman? Forget an anniversary?”

  “Ew, no.”

  He chuckles. “Ew?”

  “He is my brother, and we’ve got this thing going where we buy the worst possible gifts for our birthday. Anyway, why am I even telling you this?” My gaze travels down to his hands. “And what are you planning to do with an entire box of olive oil?”

  He laughs as he places the box on the counter. “Why? Do you want one to give to your brother?”

  “Does it taste bad?”

  “Of course not. This olive oil is top of the line. That’s why I always bring a box home whenever I’m in Paris.” He shakes his head. “That brother of yours must have done something unforgivable to you.”

  “Unforgivable is a big word.”

  He shrugs while he hands his credit card to the cashier. “That depends.”

  Is this weird? Me chatting up a random guy at the airport’s chocolate shop? I’m not usually this outgoing, but I’m nervous about flying and haven’t slept in days.

  I get a good look at him while he signs for his purchase. Handsome guy. One very present dimple. American accent. Broad shoulders and white teeth. A lover of copious amounts of olive oil, judging by the amount he’s buying.

  He pockets his wallet and grabs his duty-free bag from the counter. “If you’re set on buying that duty-free smelly cheese, I can give you some pointers. But I don’t think you should be traveling with it if you don’t want dirty looks from your fellow passengers.”

  “What are you, some secret cheese connoisseur?” I joke.

  “I’m a chef.”

  “A real one?”

  He laughs, showing me that damn dimple again. “No, the fake kind that uses an Easy-Bake oven. Of course, I’m a real chef. I run L’artichaut, a restaurant in a mountain town called Trout Creek.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Trout Creek?”

  “Most people have never heard of the town, but I can guarantee it’s an amazing place to work and live.”

  “I agree.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m a proud former citizen of Trout Creek,” I tell him. “My family still lives there. It’s my brother’s birthday this weekend, and I’m traveling back home to celebrate. Paris was a layover from Spain, where I’ve been working as a botanist for the past three years.”

  A playful grin spreads across his face as he gets his boarding pass out of his pocket. “What are the odds? You’re not supposed to be at gate 75B in forty-five minutes by any chance?”

  My eyes grow wide. “That’s my gate! And my boarding time!”

  Jeez, why am I shouting? I sound like a crazy person.

  “Looks like we’ll be traveling across the ocean together.” He extends his hand to me. “I’m Stuart.”

  The moment our palms touch, electricity jolts my entire body awake. Fuck, this guy is gorgeous. “Emma.”

  “Well, Emma, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to accompany you to your gate. Excuse me, our gate. And I’d love to hear all about the shenanigans between you and your brother and your work as a botanist. Color me intrigued.”

  I grin. “Lead the way.”

  For the first time, I hope my flight gets delayed. At least then I can spend some extra hours with Stuart. I realize it sounds crazy, and I’ve only known the guy for ten minutes, but already I don’t like the thought of saying goodbye to him.

  As far as men are concerned, luck hasn’t been on my side. I’ve tried. Hard. Every relationship I’ve had petered out after a couple of dates. I’m not picky, but I do have standards. Having dinner with a man who keeps interrupting me because he’s texting his friends isn’t my idea of romance. Neither is witnessing my blind date turn into an aggressive lunatic after a woman in a Porsche cut him off. The conclusion after nine of these horrible dates was simple: there aren’t any decent men left.

  Maybe it’s time to revisit that conviction because unless Stuart is extremely good at hiding a bad side, he’s the most perfect man I’ve ever met.

  Chapter Two

  Stuart

  How can a woman like Emma still be single? If I can see it, surely other men must also realize how fucking hot she is? Her curvy body, thick thighs, round face, and hazelnut hair are mesmerizing.

  We’ve been chatting for half an hour now, and she’s got me swept away already. I’ve never seen someone’s face light up like hers when she talks about plant samples and rare wildflowers. Witnessing this kind of passion in a woman is a big turn
-on. And I get it. I have the same passion for my job. I could talk about ingredients, cooking utensils, and seasoning all night. Most people tolerate their job because it makes them money, but Emma clearly loves hers. I admire her for carving out her own path and sticking to what she enjoys.

  She takes a sip from her water bottle, a drop of liquid trailing down her chin. I swallow. I’d lick it right off if it were appropriate, but we’re at an airport full of people.

  “Oops,” she says and bends forward to grab a tissue from her bag.

  My gaze is automatically drawn to her shirt, which has fallen open. I get a full-frontal view of her big boobs, squeezed into a black bra. Damn, her tits look juicy and soft. How would they feel against my tongue?

  “Everything okay?” she asks, wiping her chin clean with a tissue.

  “Uh-huh,” I say, my voice croaking. I hope she doesn’t notice I’m as hard as a pipe right now.

  An announcement comes through the gate’s speakers, letting us know the plane is ready for boarding, but I don’t want to. I’m not ready to say goodbye to this amazing woman.

  Emma gets up and swings her bag over her shoulder. “I guess this is it.”

  I get to my feet. “Almost. I’ll accompany you to your seat.”

  We get in line and keep chatting until we set foot on the plane and make our way to her seat.

  She points to an empty one. “This is me.”

  “Let me help you with this.” I grab her carry-on bag and put it in the overhead compartment.

  “Thank you. So, um... have a nice flight. Thanks for waiting with me. I had fun.”

  Behind us, people are getting anxious to get to their seats, so I should stop blocking their way and find my seat. “You too, Emma.” I give her a lame wave before continuing down the aisle.

  I’m only three rows behind her, but it seems like we’re miles apart.

  She turns her head and peeks over the seats, eyes scanning the plane. Her face lights up when she catches me. “Hi, there.”

  “Hello, stranger.”

  “Got a comfortable seat?”

  I nod. “What about you?”

  “As comfortable as one can be on a plane.”

  The woman next to me slams her book closed. “I can’t concentrate like this. Why don’t I switch seats with your girlfriend so you guys can talk? At a more normal level.”

  “She’s not my—” I start, but the woman is already up and gone.

  After some shuffling around, Emma sits herself down next to me.

  My heart swells with contentment. “Long time no see,” I say with a grin.

  “Right? What are the odds of us ending up together? Next to each other, I mean, not together together.”

  She looks as happy as I’m feeling. Is it because we’ll be spending the entire flight next to each other or because she’s glad to be home soon? I don’t know. All I know is I’m going to enjoy every second of this flight.

  We talk and laugh straight through the emergency instructions and lift-off. By the time we’re halfway across the ocean, Emma starts yawning, and her eyelids grow heavy.

  “You should get some sleep,” I tell her.

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  I shake my head. “That doesn’t matter. You don’t want to arrive like an exhausted zombie, right?”

  “Did you just call me a zombie?” she says with faux shock.

  I drape one of those plane blankets over her and smile. “Goodnight, sweet Emma.”

  It doesn’t take long before she falls asleep. I’m pretty tired myself, but all I can do is watch her. She looks fucking adorable.

  How did I get so lucky as to have met her hours earlier? I’m not a pessimist when it comes to love, but I haven’t yet found the one. Most women I meet these days seek me out at work, knowing all too well who I am and how much money I make. They’re mostly gold diggers, or they want to post a selfie with me on their socials, thinking my success will help them in some way. How? Fuck if I know. I’m not even on social media. I have a social media manager for the restaurant, yes, but not a personal profile.

  I also realize that looks shouldn’t be the biggest factor in deciding if a woman is for you, but the ones I attract are all thin Barbie dolls with layers and layers of make-up plastered on their faces, spouting nonsense about algorithms and opportunities and diamonds. I’m more into cute and curvy girls who are smart and genuine. Like Emma.

  She adjusts her position in her sleep, her head settling on my shoulder. I close my eyes and smile. This is abso-fucking-lutely perfect.

  It doesn’t take long before I fall asleep.

  I wake from the most amazing dream. Emma was squeezing my hard-on while I sucked on her nipples. We were buck-naked on a blanket somewhere outside with nothing but the sound of a roaring plane engine above us.

  I sigh. What a dream. Only... Why do I feel like I’m inside a plane?

  My eyes fly open. I’m not dreaming at all. Emma is moaning in her sleep, her right hand gripping my dick. If she doesn’t stop this, I’ll come right here and now. Shit.

  I softly nudge her. “Emma, wake up.”

  She sleepily lifts her head. She’s so close that I could kiss her. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have our mouths crash together and to suck her tongue raw.

  “What time is it?”

  “We’re almost there, sleepyhead.”

  She smiles, but as soon as she realizes where her hand is, her face falters. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Her cheeks are beetroot, and she doesn’t dare catch my eye.

  I grab her hand and give it a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. If I’m being honest, I’m flattered. It was nice.”

  She puts her head in her hands. “I’m mortified.”

  “Emma, please. It’s okay.”

  She whips her head to me and whispers. “It’s not okay. I violated you in your sleep. I swear this is nothing like me. I mean, I’ve never even...you know...done that.”

  “You’ve never grabbed a guy’s dick on a plane before?” I joke.

  “Or...any other place.”

  “Oh.” She’s a virgin? And my dick is the first one she’s ever touched? Fuck. That makes me want her even more.

  The wheels of the plane touch ground. Emma stares straight ahead as if the answers to life’s questions are scribbled on the seat in front of her.

  “It’s okay,” I repeat. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

  She nods, not convinced. Her cell phone dings with an incoming text, and she grabs it like a beacon. “My best friend just parked her car. I better hurry. You know how expensive these airport parking spaces are.”

  “Yeah, I do.” I pause while I think about what to say next so she stops fussing over the whole dick-grabbing incident, but I draw a blank.

  As soon as the plane doors open and people start filing out, she jumps up and awkwardly waves at me. “See you, Stuart. It was nice meeting you, but I’ve got to run.”

  “Emma, wait,” I call after her, but she’s already gone.

  Fuck. Now what?

  Chapter Three

  Emma

  “You did what with his crown jewels?” My best friend Felicity shouts.

  “Sssh, not everyone in town needs to know I grabbed his dick.”

  “I bet it was a good one.”

  The memory makes me smile. “I was.”

  Harper, who owns the local bakery, puts our order of coffee and cupcakes on our table. “Enjoy, ladies.”

  I take a big bite of my strawberry cupcake. “I can’t take responsibility for it. I mean, I was sleeping, for fuck’s sake!”

  Felicity wiggles her eyebrows. “I bet it was an amazing dream.”

  I groan. “The hottest. I dreamed he was eating whipped cream off me while I was spread out over one of his restaurant tables. Am I crazy to be mortified about that?”

  “Of course not, but I’m positive the guy didn’t mind playing the leading part in your sex dream.” She sighs. “I wish someone had a dream like that about me. I want to find true love once and for all.”