Evelyn’s POV

I should’ve known this wasn’t his scene.

Dominic stood behind the grill with a hairnet shoved over his head and a spatula in one hand, looking completely out of place. The kitchen heat had already soaked through his shirt, and his dark hair stuck to his forehead in messy strands.

He looked up, wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, and gave me a tight smile.

“You good?” I asked, waving a paper fan I’d made from the order receipt roll.

“I’m good,” he ...