Finding Chef's Kiss

Chapter 3

20 Hours Ago

"One, two-"

"Ahh shit!"

I pause counting the tomatoes in my carrier tote and glance at the man who's about two steps next to me. His face is hidden as he works to wipe off the large pink stain on his white t-shirt with the back of his hand.

"Jaime, what's with these today? I barely touched this one and it squirted all over me," the man says to the vendor behind the stand.

"What? The tomato or Katrina last night?"

The man beside me guffaws and heat fills my cheek as I register the innuendo. The man throws a tomato at the vendor, who catches it easily and laughs.

"Jaime, can you not be a perv for like one second?"

"Bro, that means tomatoes are good!" He tosses one into the air after gesturing to the man's shirt. "They were picked from the farm this morning. How many are you getting?"

"I'll take a whole box." The man huffs out a laugh as he gives up trying to brush off the splatter across his chest.

As soon as the man moves to place some tomatoes in a box, I stare at him a little more closely. He's tall with a medium size build. Dark brown, short, scruffy facial hair paints his face, color matching the thick hair on his head. I quickly look away, however, when the man's light brown eyes lock onto mine.

Don't be a creep, Gem.

I continue counting the tomatoes in my bag but pause when I sense the man's gaze unmoving. I look back up, and as soon as our eyes meet again, he smiles and something shifts in my stomach. I smile politely back but then quickly turn to start analyzing the tomato in front of me.

"Careful not to squeeze too hard."

"Sorry?" I look back up at the handsome man with a toothy smile who's now facing me.

"He's talking about the tomatoes," the vendor chimes in.

The stained-shirt man rolls his eyes in mock annoyance at the vendor before looking back at me. "Of course, the tomatoes. No need to squeeze. Apparently, I needed to take one for the team to find out if they were good or not." The man tilts his head down towards the stain.

"Oh, yes. I saw that. Bad luck." I pause to look down at the man's shirt. It almost looks as if he drooled a mixture of blood and water. I pout in thought before asking, "I think I have Tide-To-Go in my purse if that'll help?"

"Nah I'm good. I have plenty of these white tees."

"Are you sure? I really don't mind."

"How embarrassing is it?"

I glance at the stain once more and smile before rummaging through my purse for my trusty Tide stick. "Here. Trust me, this thing is a lifesaver," I say after handing it to the man.

"Oh, thanks... how do I use it though?" He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, showcasing a bulging bicep before popping the cap off and lightly dabbing the stain with hesitancy.

I laugh. "What! How have you never used Tide-To-Go before? I literally use it at least once a week."

"Hmm...I guess I'm not as clumsy as you?" the man shrugs with a smirk.

"Ha, ha," I reply dryly, trying to hold in my grin. "I'm not clumsy. I just like to keep things clean and orderly. It's borderline obsessive, really." I let out a nearly inaudible huff through my nostrils. What am I saying?

"Well, acceptance is always the first step. I hope you have a good support system to keep you grounded for your recovery journey ahead," he responds in between glances from his cleaning.