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Kayla stared at her.
“Of course he is alive.” Élise snorted. “Any woman with eyes can see Jackson is a man of strength and stamina. It is why she has black circles under her eyes. I am guessing that right now he is lying there, wondering why she ran out on him. Why did you run out on him? Me, I prefer to wake up slowly. But I like morning sex very much.”
Kayla felt her face heat. “I really don’t—”
Brenna planted herself in the chair across from her. “Élise and I covered for you. The least you can do is give us the details.”
“I don’t want details. I am not a voyeur.” Élise put the bowl to one side to rest. “Or maybe I do want details. Jackson has so much sex appeal. He would be an exceptional lover, I think. Mmm. Give us details.”
Kayla clutched her mug, feeling more vulnerable than she had when she was talking about her mother.
She didn’t do details. She didn’t do this. Have sex with a man, all night, and wake next to him in the morning. She hadn’t had time to think it through or rationalize it. She certainly wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone.
“I don’t know what makes you think—”
“Two things…” Élise lifted a heavy based pan from the cupboard. “First, the look of panic in your eyes when Elizabeth asked you what time Jackson left, and second, the slight redness on your neck, caused by the scrape of stubble over sensitive flesh.”
“Jackson came round to pick up Maple—”
“But he stayed for you. And judging by the fact you slunk up to the door with Maple this morning, I am guessing you crept out before he woke.”
“I didn’t slink.” Kayla caught the look they gave her and rolled her eyes. “Okay, yes, I left! I— It was just one night. I didn’t know what I was going to say when he woke up. I still don’t know.”
Élise looked confused. “Why is that so difficult to find something to say? You say ‘Great sex, Jackson.’ Unless it wasn’t great sex, in which case you say ‘Boring sex, Jackson, next time just leave the pizza and I’ll eat it by myself.” She oiled the pan. “But I’m sure it was great sex. If it weren’t for the fact we work together, I might have been tempted myself. Except for the complication of Sean.”
“Sean?” Brenna stared at her. “What does Sean have to do with anything? He hasn’t been home in months.”
“No.” Élise tilted the pan. “I hope that isn’t because of what we did.”
“Because of—” Brenna was gaping. “What did you do?”
“Last time he was home we had a crazy night of satisfying sex—” Élise increased the heat under the pan “—which is another reason why Jackson is off-limits.”
Brenna put her mug down slowly. “You had sex with Sean? Jackson’s brother?”
“Why are you using that tone? It was not a big deal. Just one night. In the meadow next to the lake. Normally I think outdoor sex is overrated—Brenna, watch that pan for a moment.” Élise sped across the kitchen and pulled a tub of berries out of the fridge. “But with Sean it was not the case. He is very sexy and he has good hands. I suppose because he’s a surgeon. And he is sophisticated. He enjoys food and knows as much about wine as any Frenchman. I also like that he can talk intelligently about European politics, but of course Jackson can do that, too.”
Brenna lifted her eyebrows. “You talk about politics during sex?”
“Of course not, but I expect conversation afterward.” She gave Kayla a pointed look. “I do not run off.” She pushed the fridge shut with an elegant movement of her shoulder and Brenna shook her head.
“Are you and Sean in touch?”
“No. It was just a onetime thing for both of us and it was a very good one time. He has expert knowledge of anatomy.”
Kayla exchanged glances with Brenna. “But when he comes home for Christmas—won’t that be awkward?”
“Why?” Apparently bemused by the question, Élise emptied the berries into a bowl. “I don’t really understand why it would feel awkward if you both chose to do it.”
“In my case because I slept with a client! Oh, God—” Kayla groaned and dropped her head onto her hands “—how could I have been so unprofessional?”
“He already was your client so what is the problem?” Élise gave a Gallic shrug. “Maybe it would be different if you had sex with him to persuade him to give you the business. Although maybe not. Jackson is so hot I think any woman could be forgiven—” She thought about it for a moment and Brenna laughed.
“You’re an alley cat, Élise.”
“Sex is a normal part of life. Not something to be embarrassed about. Unless the sex is bad, of course. From the dark rings around your eyes I’m assuming the sex wasn’t bad.”
Bad? It had been exceptional. The first time, the second time, the third time…
Kayla dug her hands in her hair. “It was just the one night. Like you and Sean. That’s it. I’m—I’m just going to carry on as if nothing happened.” And she knew the real reason for her panic had nothing to do with being unprofessional and everything to do with the way she felt about Jackson.
Brenna sipped her coffee. “You think he’s going to go along with that?”
She had no idea. She didn’t want to think about it, and she certainly didn’t want to talk about it. She wasn’t used to confiding in other women. She wasn’t used to waking up in a man’s bed.
She wasn’t used to feeling this way.
Élise poured a small amount of pancake mixture onto the center of the pan and spread it until it formed a thin, even layer. “Jackson will do what suits him. He is a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it. He is very strong. I like that about him.”
She liked that about him, too. Along with many other things.
A crepe appeared on the plate in front of her.
“Voila!” Élise dusted it with sugar and folded it with a flourish. “Crepe au sucre. Eat. After a night of sex, you need food.”
She ate, and of course it was delicious because she was fast learning that Élise was incapable of producing anything that wasn’t delicious. To make sure the subject didn’t return to Jackson, she revealed to them her initial ideas for Snow Crystal.
“There are lots of angles I’m going to try with the media, but the biggest one is you—” She looked at Élise. “Female French chef transforming the restaurant experience in this little corner of Vermont—the press will love you.”
“Vraiment?” Élise’s face brightened. “This is promotion from ‘the French Bitch,’ I think. From bitch to babe. I will be a celebrity, perhaps. I will be rich.”
“You can open your own restaurant in Paris.”
“I wouldn’t want to do that.” Élise turned her back to them and something in her voice and the set of her shoulders made Kayla wonder if there was more to that declaration than a simple statement of future plans.
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