The *café et amour* bustled with its usual rhythm. Light chatter and the soft clinking of coffee mugs provided the soundtrack of another busy morning. The aroma of freshly brewed espresso wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of pastries and warm cinnamon buns, freshly pulled from the oven. Rody Lamoree, one of the cafe’s longtime waiters, weaved expertly through the sea of tables with an effortless charm that seemed to make him magnetic to customers. His auburn hair, as unruly as ever, curled slightly at the nape of his neck as he passed by the counter, refilling a patron’s coffee with a casual smile.
Behind the counter, Vincent Charbonneau stood at his station in the open kitchen, the sharp tang of citrus lingering around him as he finished plating the cafe’s signature lemon tarts. His black chef’s coat was spotless, his hands moving with the precision of someone who had honed their craft through years of practice. His dark eyes, however, weren’t focused on the task in front of him. Instead, they followed Rody as the waiter worked, the scent of his cologne drifting tantalizingly through the air.
Vincent wasn’t sure when exactly it had started, this fascination with the man who always seemed a little too rough around the edges. But it had grown into something he couldn’t shake. Rody was far from the type of person he’d usually pay attention to-messy, loud, disorganized. But there was something about him that hooked Vincent in, something about the way he moved, the careless way he seemed to approach life yet always landed on his feet. And, of course, there was that scent.
It was subtle, but it lingered. Earthy with a hint of something sweet-cedarwood, maybe. The smell wrapped around Vincent every time Rody walked by, teasing his senses and making it harder for him to concentrate. He’d caught himself more than once inhaling deeply as the waiter passed, greedily pulling that scent into his lungs like a man drowning. He told himself it was nothing, just a passing attraction, but that cologne lingered in his thoughts long after Rody left for the day.
Vincent’s hands worked on autopilot as he prepared the next set of orders, his thoughts wandering as they often did to Rody. He had no idea how Manon had ever let him go. Sure, they were polar opposites-Manon, the level-headed business owner, always pragmatic and composed. Rody, on the other hand, was reckless and impulsive. Maybe that was why it hadn’t worked between them.
“Vincent?” The soft, yet unmistakable voice shook him from his thoughts. Rody was standing by the pass, one hand resting on his hip, the other holding an order slip. He raised an eyebrow, flashing a smirk as though he’d caught Vincent daydreaming. “Got the order for table four?”
Vincent blinked, momentarily flustered. He cleared his throat and handed over the plate of lemon tarts with a practiced calm. “Table four,” he said, his voice low and even, masking the fact that Rody’s presence had just disrupted his entire focus.
Rody reached out to grab the plate, and for a split second, his fingers brushed against Vincent’s. The touch was electric-barely a graze, but enough to send a jolt of awareness through Vincent. His breath hitched slightly, and he hoped Rody didn’t notice. But of course, Rody noticed everything. His green eyes twinkled with mischief, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he flashed Vincent a grin, the kind that was too friendly to be flirting but just intimate enough to keep him guessing.
“Thanks, Chef,” Rody said, the title rolling off his tongue in a way that made Vincent’s stomach twist.
As Rody turned and made his way to the table, Vincent allowed himself a moment to watch him again, his eyes tracing the broad lines of Rody’s back, the way his shirt pulled slightly across his shoulders as he moved. There was a quiet strength to him that Vincent had always noticed but never quite acknowledged-how Rody could easily lift crates of supplies or maneuver through the busiest shifts without breaking a sweat. And yet, there was a gentleness, too, in how he interacted with the customers, especially the regulars, chatting with them like old friends.
Vincent exhaled slowly, forcing himself to refocus on the task at hand. He was here to work, not indulge in pointless fantasies about a man who was clearly off-limits. Not only was Rody his co-worker, but he was also Manon’s ex, which complicated things in ways Vincent didn’t even want to think about.
The lunch rush came and went, and soon the cafe slowed into a more relaxed pace. Rody was wiping down tables, humming a tune under his breath, completely unaware of the effect he had on Vincent. Or maybe he was aware, and that was what made it all the more unbearable.
Vincent leaned against the counter, watching as Rody paused to speak with Manon. They were laughing about something, and though it didn’t seem intimate, Vincent couldn’t help the slight twinge of jealousy that gnawed at him. He shouldn’t care. Rody had moved on, Manon had moved on-they were just friends now, co-workers even. But it still stirred something ugly inside him.
Before he could dwell on it further, Rody made his way back over, this time without an order slip. “Hey, you got a minute?” he asked, wiping his hands on his apron. “Need some help with something in the back.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow, curious. “With what?”
Rody shrugged, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Just come on.”
Against his better judgment, Vincent followed him into the small storage room at the back of the cafe. The space was cramped, filled with boxes of coffee beans and supplies. Rody closed the door behind them, the soft click of the latch sounding unusually loud in the quiet.
“What are we doing in here?” Vincent asked, trying to ignore how close they were standing now, the scent of Rody’s cologne even stronger in the confined space.
Rody grinned, leaning casually against a stack of boxes. “I noticed you’ve been staring at me all morning.”
Vincent stiffened, his heart skipping a beat. “I wasn’t-“
“Oh, you were,” Rody interrupted, his voice low and teasing. “Not that I mind. Just wondering if there’s something you want to say.”
Vincent narrowed his eyes, trying to regain control of the situation. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” Rody took a step closer, the playful edge in his tone softening as he met Vincent’s gaze head-on. “You know, I don’t wear this cologne for everyone. Just figured you’d like it.”
Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. “You-“
“I notice things too, Chef,” Rody said, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “Like how you breathe in every time I walk past. How you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.”
Vincent swallowed hard, his mind racing. He was usually so composed, so controlled, but with Rody this close, with that scent flooding his senses, he found himself unraveling. “I…”
Rody reached out, his hand brushing lightly against Vincent’s wrist, sending a shiver through him. “Just admit it,” Rody murmured, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against Vincent’s skin. “You like me. And I think you know I like you too.”
For a moment, Vincent couldn’t speak. His world had narrowed down to the two of them, standing too close in a tiny storage room that suddenly felt far too warm. All the carefully built walls he’d put up crumbled in an instant.
“Yes,” Vincent finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “I like you.”
Rody’s smile softened, and without another word, he closed the distance between them. The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, as though testing the waters. But when Vincent responded, it deepened, all the pent-up tension between them spilling over. The scent of Rody’s cologne enveloped him completely, filling his senses as he gave in to everything he’d been holding back for so long.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Rody chuckled softly. “Took you long enough.”
Vincent smirked, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “Maybe I just wanted to be sure.”
Rody grinned, brushing a thumb across Vincent’s cheek. “Well, now you know.”
So many unfinished drafts 😠I just want my finals to be over
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