The noise was the first thing that struck Landry Merriman as she stood just inside the swinging kitchen doors of the Chessman Hotel. It was a veritable wall of sound, with pots and pans clattering, oven doors slamming, dishwashers humming, and people yelling to be heard over all of it.

“As you can see,” Mrs. Myers said, rather loudly, “It’s a very lively place,” she slipped out into the relative quiet of the sumptuously carpeted hallway outside the kitchen, “Why don’t we finish the interview in my office, Ms. Merriman.”

Landry reminded herself to wipe the judgmental look from her face as she followed the woman down the hall and into a small, tidy room. She had never, ever seen such a horribly run professional kitchen in her career, but it wouldn’t do to be critical, until she had the job, at any rate.

“Please, take a seat,” Mrs. Myers moved behind her desk and sat down, taking a few moments to search her computer screen, “So, let’s see, you graduated first in your class at culinary school, and worked at several of the top hotels here on the east coast,” she leaned around the screen and looked at Landry, “Clearly, your credentials are impeccable, Ms. Merriman.”

“Thank you,” Landry tried to appear humble, “I enjoy my work, really.”

A troubled expression appeared on Mrs. Myers face, “Our executive chef, Jensen Daniels, is … well, how should I put this …”

Landry raised a brow expectantly, even going so far as to slide forward on her seat a bit, as she waited for the woman to finish her sentence. She wanted this job, needed this job, badly. If she were to land an executive chef position at such a vaunted hotel as the Chessman, it would be a feather in her cap, most certainly, and would surely pay enough to get her the revenue that she needed to eventually own her own restaurant.

“Jensen is a wonderful chef, don’t get me wrong,” Mrs. Myers went on, “But, he’s been under a great deal of stress lately, and, quite honestly, the kitchen has been suffering as a result. I am not, however, prepared to replace him just yet.”

Landry didn’t bother trying to mask her confusion, “The description on the job board said that you were looking for an executive chef.”

“Yes, that’s correct, but I suppose I should have clarified that what we are looking for is a co-executive chef,” Mrs. Myers steepled her hands beneath her chin and leaned on them, “You see, Ms. Merriman, what I need is someone who can keep the kitchen running smoother while Jensen is sorting out his situation at home.”

“I see,” Landry slid back into her chair, “And when he does, what happens to me?”

“Oh, well I suppose we will have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Landry’s eyes flared in dismay.

“Perhaps we’ll keep you on permanently, and the hotel will have two executive chefs.” Mrs. Myers added, quickly.

“So it will be a permanent position?”

“As long as you and Jensen work well together, I can’t see why it wouldn’t be.”

“I’ll take it.” Landry announced, with only the slightest hesitation. She would make this work, no matter what, for at least the next year. Her future depended on it.

************************************************************************

The next morning, so early that the prep workers hadn’t yet arrived, Landry marched into the Chessman Hotel kitchen with a “give ’em hell,” look on her face. She zipped quickly through the entire space, making a mental note of all the areas that needed her attention. She was halfway through moving an entire salad station to its new, more logical position when an almighty bellow of outrage made her drop a stack of aluminum mixing bowls.

Embarrassed by the clatter, Landry whirled around to find an imposing figure of a man, with his arms akimbo, glaring murderously at her.

“What is the matter with you?” Landry questioned him, imperiously.

“This is my kitchen,” the man growled, as he swooped down and grabbed several bowls that were still spinning on the floor, “Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Landry raised her chin a bit, trying to add height where there wasn’t much, “I am Landry Merriman, the new co-executive chef.” she announced, with as much authority as she could muster.

Her words seemed to shock him to the core, and, for a brief moment, Landry allowed herself to feel sorry for him. Hadn’t Mrs. Myers told him that they were hiring her?

“Wait here,” he barked, “And don’t touch another damn thing.”

She didn’t listen, of course. By the time he came back into the kitchen, she had managed to reorganize the frying station, and the sauce station, and had even started assigning positions to the kitchen staff that had arrived in his absence.

“Get out!” Jensen ordered, as he stomped over to her, tying a chef’s apron around his middle.

Ladle in hand, Landry confronted him, “No. I will not leave. This is my kitchen, too.”

“The hell it is,” Jensen snarled, “I don’t give a shit who hired you, I don’t need you here, so get out.”

“Apparently, you do need me here.” Landry stood toe to toe with him, refusing to back down.

“This kitchen has been running just fine,” Jensen grabbed the ladle from her hand and tossed it aside, “You need to leave. Now.”

“I will not,” Landry said. She was intimidated, true, but also annoyingly aware that his eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, and that he smelled like coffee and cinnamon toast, “I was hired to do a job and that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” she picked up the ladle, and brandished it in front of her, “And you can’t stop me, I’ll have you know.”

“Maybe you didn’t understand me the first time,” Jensen could feel the eyes of his employees on him, and he knew that he hadn’t had nearly enough sleep the night before, or hell, for the past three months, if he were being honest, to deal with this stubborn ass woman, but he was damn well going to try, “I do not need you here. I don’t give a damn what Mrs. Myers said, I have this kitchen under complete control …”

A snort of disagreement came from somewhere near the breading station, forcing Jensen to acknowledge it, “Brian, what the hell, man?”

A man suddenly stepped out into the open, “Sorry, Chef, but, seriously, you need to accept the help. There’s no shame in it, dude.”

“Elena?” Jensen turned in desperation to a woman that was standing in front of the dessert station, “We’re doing just fine. Tell her. Tell her that the kitchen runs like a well oiled machine.”

“Actually, Chef, it’s been pretty rough lately. Sorry.” Elena winced, uncomfortably.

“I’m quite accomplished,” Landry spoke up, “I have excellent creden …”

“I’ve seen your damn credentials.” Jensen slammed his hand down impressively on the work bench and everyone jumped as he stormed out of the kitchen.

************************************************************************

Landry pulled into her slot and surveyed the hotel. It looked like an enchanted winter palace with all of the glittery fairy lights, greenery, and wreathes that decorated its façade for the holidays. It was hard to believe that five months had passed. Truthfully, they had been the most difficult five months that she had ever experienced, but also the most fulfilling. She had worked so hard to earn the kitchen staff’s respect, and it thrilled her that they came to her almost as much as they came to Jensen.

A warm flush spread across her chest and neck as she thought about Jensen. She had learned a lot about him, but it had been slow going. He wasn’t one to talk much about his personal life, but gradually she had learned that his brother and sister-in-law had both died in a tragic accident, and Jensen had suddenly found himself raising his three young nephews.

“You’re early.” Jensen tapped on her frost covered window.

“So are you.” Landry gathered her things and got out of the car. They walked gingerly up the snow covered path towards the door.

Landry paused and took a moment to look out at the drifting snow that sparkled like diamonds out on the lawn, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Can’t stand the stuff, myself,” Jensen held the door for her, “After you.”

“You don’t like snow?”

“Not much.”

“But, it’s magical,” Landry grabbed her apron from her locker near the entrance, “Sleigh rides, hot chocolate, and ice skating,” she playfully punched Jensen’s arm, “Come on … surely you love ice skating!”

Jensen rolled his eyes, “You and the boys, both the same.”

“Oh, so the boys like ice skating, huh?” Landry pulled her knives out, “Have you been over to the rink, then?”

Jensen was staring out her like she’d grown an extra head.

Landry chuckled, “Guess that’s a no, then.”

“Maybe you could take them.” he suggested, surprising her.

Landry felt her heart rate pick up, “Maybe I will, but only if you come with us.”

Jensen’s nephews were ages 9, 12, and 14, and she’d only met them a handful of times when he’d brought them into the kitchen when his sitter had canceled. The younger two had seemed sweet, but the older one had came across as surly and distant. Truthfully, they had sort of terrified her. She’d never spent that much time around kids, but there was no way that she was going to let that stop her; she’d been dying to hang out with Jensen outside of work since almost the first day that she’d met him.

“Do you want to meet at the rink around 6 p.m.?”

“Perfect.” Landry smiled, even as panic twisted her stomach into knots.

************************************************************************

By 7:15 p.m., Landry’s nose was running, her hip was throbbing, her ankles were on fire, and she was seriously wondering about the state of her sanity as she dropped ungracefully onto the bench. If she had had any notion of skating around the rink hand in hand with Jensen, while romantic music played and soft, kaleidoscope lights twinkled across the ice, she had been sadly mistaken. Instead, the rink was packed, and Jensen had had to spend most of his time trying to keep his nephews in line.

Landry sniffled and tried to wipe a despairing tear from her eye, but her fuzzy glove got in the way.

“You okay? You look like you’re gonna cry.” Kyle, Jensen’s 9 year old nephew asked, as he appeared in front of her.

“Not crying,” Landry rallied, “Just something caught in my eye.”

“Do you like my uncle?” he asked her.

“Of course she does,” Kyson, the 12 year old, said, as he trudged over and slapped his little brother with his glove, “They’re on a date, dweeb. Anyone can tell that.”

“Hey! Stop hitting me, Kyson,” Kyle cried, as he slapped back at his brother, “How was I supposed to know that they were on a date?”

“Didn’t you notice that Uncle Jensen tried on like twenty different shirts before we left, dude? That’s a sign.”

“I didn’t know that!” Kyle insisted, as he tried to trip his brother with his skate.

Landry looked up. Jensen was standing just a foot away, staring at her. She felt her cheeks pinken as she looked away, her mind racing in wonder. She had just assumed that it had been wishful thinking on her part that he might have an interest in her, but could she have been wrong?

Both of the boys were now trying to trip each other up, and Jensen suddenly stepped between them, “That’s enough, you two. Take your skates off and go turn them in. Now!”

As the boys grudgingly did what they were told, Jensen sat down beside her, “And, if this were a date, it must be the worst one that you’ve ever been on.”

“Is it?” Landry looked into his blue eyes.

“The worst date that you’ve ever been on?”

“No. Is it a date?”

Jensen leaned back against the wall and sighed, wearily. He glanced over at her, “I guess I had hoped it was.”

A grin spread across Landry’s face, “Well, in that case, then, yes, it’s pretty awful …”

Jensen’s face fell, and Landry hurried to add, “But only because I’m sitting on cold, wet jeans, and my ankles are throbbing.”

“Uncle Jensen, Kaleb is over there in the corner with a girl, and I think he’s about to kiss her! Yuck! Kyle suddenly exclaimed.

“Shit!” Jensen leapt up and nearly fell as he tried to stomp off across the carpeted floor.

“He’s in big trouble now.” Kyle told her, with a wicked grin.

A minute later, Jensen came stomping back, Kaleb close behind. He glared malevolently at his brother, “You little tattle tale.” he hissed, flicking Kyle on his ear.

Kyle cried out in exaggerated pain.

“Who wants to get ice cream?” Jensen asked.

Kyle immediately quieted, his pain forgotten.

“When in doubt, bribe them.” Jensen whispered in Landry’s ear.

************************************************************************

“Silence at last,” Jensen pulled out a tiny metal chair for Landry, “It’s not going to last long, though. They eat fast.”

Landry sat down, glancing over at the boys that were now sitting quietly at a table across the room, devouring their double cones. And, though she had been desperate for some alone time with Jensen, now that she had his undivided attention, she was suddenly nervous. She took a bite of her salted honey caramel ice cream, “This is delicious. I’ve never been here.”

“It’s a solid place, I guess,” Jensen fiddled with his spoon, ” I want my own restaurant eventually. Nothing too fancy, of course, but a nice, open floor plan, maybe a big, gorgeous fire place, cloth covered tables,” his eyes met hers, and Landry recognized the glow on his face as he described his dream. It was probably the same one that she wore when she spoke of her own, “You know … a place that you take your family to celebrate the special times.”

“It sounds a lot like what I want to own one day, too, actually.”

“Oh yeah? So, fine dining, but not two little carrots and a miniscule slice of steak, kind of thing.”

“Exactly.” Landry nodded, enthusiastically. She knew that she probably shouldn’t be so thrilled that they shared the same dream, but damned if she could help herself.

“And here I brought you out for an ice cream on our first date,” Jensen shook his head in shame, “I want you to know that this isn’t how I usually do things.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

“This sudden parent thing has thrown me off my game.”

“Lucky for you that I never liked men with game.”

“Does this mean you’ll come over for pizza and Monday night football, then?”

“Only if you don’t order anchovies on the pizza.”

“Not to worry,” Jensen stole a spoonful of her ice cream, “We’re a strictly pepperoni crowd.”

“If you take one more bite of my ice cream, the boys are going to have to come over here and break up the fight.” Landry warned him, wagging her spoon threateningly in his direction.

***********************************************************************

The kitchen was dim and quiet as Landry stood peeling potatoes near the sink. Normally, the job would have been passed off to one of the staff, but every now and then, she liked to come in and do it just to help out.

Strong arms suddenly reached around her, and a familiar scent filled her nostrils.

“You’re here early.” Jensen said, his breath tickling her throat.

“Haven’t you heard that the early bird gets the worm, Jensen?” she threw the peeled potato into the colander.

“I might have heard it a time or two,” he dropped small kisses on the side of her face, “Let me help.”

“You could get a head start on making the sauces.”

“I could,” Jensen stepped away from her and grabbed a potato, “Or, I could stay here beside you and help peel this mountain of spuds.”

“Well okay then, Chef.” Landry said, impishly.

Jensen glanced sideways at her, “We’ve been dating for awhile now, haven’t we?”

“Yes, Chef.”

“I would say it’s going pretty good, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Chef.”

“We aren’t an easy bunch, the boys and I. It’s going to take a special woman to put up with us.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“I can’t promise an easy life, either, but what I can promise is that every day will be a challenge, and it’s never going to be boring.”

“Yes, Chef.” Landry felt a tear form in her eye, as she thought of how much she loved being with Jensen and the boys.

Jensen threw a potato into the colander and sat his knife aside. He turned to face her, “And, I can promise you one other thing, Landry …” he reached for her, turning her so that she was face to face with him, “I can promise you that I will always love you. Will you marry me?”

Landry gasped as Jensen suddenly dropped to one knee and opened a small box.

“Yes, Chef.” she said, as she fell into his arms, joyfully.

************************************************************************

A soft summer breeze lifted Landry’s veil as she stood on the veranda of the Chessman Hotel, staring out at the rows of guests seated on the lawn, and the beautiful, rose strewn gazebo that stood at the end of the long carpet. Inside the gazebo, Landry knew that the love of her life waited for her, along with the boys in their shiny, uncomfortable shoes. Her heart filled with joy when she thought of them. All of them. Her guys. Her family.

“Are you ready?” her dad asked, as he offered her his arm.

“I am.” Landry said, with a smile.