"I don't know what's worse," Olivia said in disapproval, referring to the incident at the restaurant a few days ago. "The fact that you didn't tell me or that I had to hear it from one of the new girls!"

"Come on, the new girl only knows about it because she likes sucking up to the chef and he told her."

Taking the paperboard cup to my mouth, I took a long sip of the black tea I had ordered. Olivia had joined me and Lexi on our afternoon at Regent's Park and we got some hot drinks to busy ourselves with while we sat on a bench, talking, and while we watched as Lexi ran around the green park, chasing the squirrels to feed them.

"Or, the fact that you're only now telling me because you're going on a date with him."

"You're absolutely loon. I'm not going on a date with him. I'm just trying his food," I said before adding, "His offer!"

"That sounds like a date to me." Olivia uttered in a singing voice, and I shot her a disbelieving look.

"If it was a date, he would have told me. And asked me."

"You're forgetting about the fact that he's French." I looked at Olivia like she had just grown two heads. Then, she explained herself and her train of thought. "French guys are romantic. Romantic and intense."

"I think you've seen way too many romcoms." I fidgeted with the hem of the paper cup holder.

"Say whatever you want... But it's a date!"

* * *

Saturday night rolled around, and when Sébastien came to open the door of L'Amour, after I knocked on it, and I looked at him, I started to think that maybe Olivia was right.

If I was just coming over to try his food, then why did he have to dress up like he was about to take me to the ball?

And that led to my mind going down the spiral of thinking I was probably underdressed for tonight. While I was wearing a simple, grey dress and my black ankle boots, Sébastien was wearing a pressed white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and fancy pants. Fancy shoes too.

"Melanie, you look so beautiful." Was the first thing he said to me, after opening the door and sliding to the side while extending out his hand, allowing me to walk inside the bakery.

Once I heard the door lock behind me, I turned in my heels to face him. With a shy smile, I thanked him.

The bakery was lit up in a dimmed, yellow light, with candles scattered around the place, allowing the place to feel intimate. Much more intimate than I ever imagined it could feel like.

"Sébastien, I..." I hesitated for a while before I gained the courage to ask what needed to be asked. "Is this a date? Because if it is, I am sorry I gave you the wrong impression, I never meant to lead you on when-"

He cut me off, in a low tone. "It is if you want it to be."

Wordlessly, I focused on removing my jacket and placing it on the back of one of the high chairs.

When I looked around some more, I noticed all the tables were occupied with boxes and some other supplies he had ordered for the reopening of the bakery.

"I thought we were eating here." I said, confused that it already smelled so good but there was no table available for us to eat dinner.

"We are." Sébastien had an amused expression on his face while he watched me become even more confused.

Then, he put his hand on the small of my back and led me to the backstage area of this bakery - the kitchen.

Step by step, the aroma of what seemed like meatballs and a fantastic tomato sauce filled my nostrils.

And there it was. Two glasses of red wine were waiting for us on top of the grey and white marble countertop, alongside two plates filled with pasta and a couple of small candles.

This has date written all over it.

"I know how much you like this part."

"You're right, I do." I said before finding my place and making my way towards the stove. Quickly grabbing a handle, I picked up the lid of the pot and let the lovely aromas take over my senses.

I was so lost in the smell of the sauce, bubbling all over the pot, that I hadn't noticed Sébastien standing right behind me, his blonde hair falling down as he dipped his head, inching closer and closer to mine.

"Like what you see?"

I hummed in agreement after taking a spoonful of sauce to my mouth.

"What do you think?" My eyes could not look away from his. "Is it ready?"

"Oh, definitely."

He smiled and turned down the heat, removing the pot from the stove immediately, to prevent from overcooking our meal, and taking it to the countertop.

I couldn't help but let out a soft moan after taking my first bite of the meal Sébastien had prepared. "Anyone can make spaghetti and meatballs, it's one of the easiest meals you can do. But the tomato sauce is what makes it taste fantastic. It's what distinguishes a great dish from a rather regular one."

"I agree." Sébastien took a sip of his wine. "In fact, this tomato sauce you're tasting right now, isn't just any tomato sauce." I shot him a curious look. "This is the tomato sauce that's been in my family for generations."

"Oh, really?" I asked, crossing my legs, one on top of the other, while I leaned back against the back of the chair. My curiosity piqued.

"It's my great grandmother's recipe. She's passed it onto the next generations."

"So, you get your culinary talent from your great grandmother, is that it?"

"From my entire family, actually." I wiped my mouth with the napkin before putting it down on the table, while I listened to him. "My parents were both cooks. My father was a baker, his side of the family was much more into baking rather than cuisine. My mother, on the other hand, loved cooking. She had her own restaurant and studied to perfect her art and became a chef for a while, too."

I was fascinated. It was interesting to know more and more about him.

I hate to admit it, even if it's just to myself, but I loved how good it felt to get to know someone. Learn more about them and start putting the pieces of their puzzle together.

"What about you?" I inquired. I could feel the wine starting to get to me, causing me to feel loose.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at me - really looked at me - for what felt like the first time tonight.

"What about me?" He asked before sticking the fork in the middle of the spaghetti with sauce, and twirled it in a swift movement, taking a forkful of pasta to his mouth.

"What do you prefer cooking?"

"It depends on my mood, honestly." He admitted before letting out a soft chuckle. "But if I had to choose one, it would be baking. What about you?"

"I like baking but my heart's really set on savoury dishes." I toyed with the wine glass, swirling it from side to side. "It's what I've always wanted to do."

"And who did you get it from?"

I wish I could have told him a beautiful fairytale story like the one he'd told me. About a happy family that had cousine running in their blood for generations, and that my talent and love for cooking was just a product of family history. But that wasn't the case.

"Honestly?" He eyed me intensely. "No one. It was just me."

"Really?"

"Yes." I nodded in agreement. "My parents cooked the basics, but they didn't love it."

In fact, I grew up in a household where I would constantly be told by my mother that I should be a good cook because that's what a woman should do in order to keep a good husband. Which, later in life caused me to hate this part of myself, but that's a story for another day. I figured Sébastien didn't need to see the bad parts of me yet.

"Well, you sure seem to have started a whole brand new generation of cooks." He showed me his wide smile again, causing me to feel warm and fuzzy inside that he was thinking about Lexi. I smiled too, as I thought of my daughter.

"I know! She's truly gifted, I think she'll even become a better cook than me."

"I don't know you two for that long, but I think she leans a little more to baking, though."

"Well, she is eight." I said, matter of factly.

"And she had a great teacher." He added, before asking a question that sent shivers down my spine. "Does her father cook, too?"

I opened my mouth, ready to blurt out a simple No, he doesn't, but instead, the sight of the lovely cheesecake that I spotted on the counter, right behind my French date, seemed like the perfect getaway car to run off from this topic of conversation.

"The cheesecake looks great." For the first time tonight, I had to force a smile. "I can't wait to try it."

His eyes followed my gaze and set on the dessert as well, before he looked back at me with a smile. "It's one of my specialties."

His hand rested on top of mine, and he leaned in closer. His natural scent mixed with some expensive perfume he had on was enough to send my heart into overdrive.

"Did I tell you why I prefer baking?"

I shook my head.

"Baking is the way to a woman's heart."

"I'm sorry?"

"No, it's not the sexist joke you think it is." I had to swallow in a laugh that was bound to break loose.

"I'm a good baker because I pour my heart out into what I create." I don't know if it was the wine's fault or not, but he was inching closer and closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke into my ear. "Cakes, cheesecakes, tartlettes," Closer, closer. "Croissants, bread, macarón, mousse au chocolat." He inched in, closer than what I thought it was possible by now, and I could swear I saw him smell my hair. Maybe I was going crazy and had the wine to blame. Maybe not.

"Love is the secret ingredient." Against my ear, he whispered. And then, he gently moved in front of me, to face me, and looked into my eyes with a sexy look and a matching smirk.

"Sébastien," His name came out of my mouth sounding a little too British and less French and I repeated it again, emphasising the French accent the best that I could.

We should finish our meal so we can eat this amazing dessert. That's what I thought about saying. But if Olivia was right - which, so far, she seemed to be -, and this was a date, and this man had other intentions with me, than just showing me his cooking skills, I needed to be upfront about this and let him down easy now, before it was too late.

"I know what you're doing." A beat. "This is a date."

"I'm intrigued by you. I'm really enjoying getting to know you, Melanie."

"I like getting to know you, too. But I..." I hesitated and thought my next sentence over. "I can't lead you on anymore, and you can't just do what you did at the restaurant the other day. I have a daughter. Lexi will always come first, I need you to know that."

"Good things take time." Sébastien said, repeating his same words he'd said to my daughter a few days ago. "I don't mind waiting."

"What if I told you, what you're in for isn't good at all?"

"You're perfect-"

"I'm not." I cut him off immediately, maybe a little too harshly than what he'd deserved. "That's where you're wrong. Don't think I'm perfect, because I am not."

If I was coming on too strong for him, he didn't let me know. "Well, no one is." He shrugged. "I don't mind your flaws, even though I have not yet got to know any."

I wanted to get my coat and my bag and get out of this date as fast as it was humanly possible. But at the same time, I didn't. Because I was enjoying this. The food, the company, the discovery... It was nice. And I owed myself that, even if it's just for one night.

So, I stayed.

"So... Cheesecake?"

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

MEL AND SEB LITERALLY JUST WENT OUT ON THEIR FIRST DATE AND IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, I AM SO HAPPY!!!!! <3

You know the drill, if you liked this chapter, please vote and leave a comment or two (I really appreciate it!). Also, add this book to your reading lists so you don't miss out on any updates!

In other news... my other story "The Beginning of the End" is just hit 1k reads and wow, I'll never not get excited for these milestones! THANK YOU ❤❤❤

Xoxo, Mars