“You sure? You’re going to have a busy day getting the shop back up to speed.”
“Positive.” He slides the drinks and pastries across the counter, his fingers brushing mine. “I want to cook for you. Around seven?”
“Perfect.” I hesitate for a moment, remembering Addy’s words about being more open. “I’m looking forward to it.”
His smile brightens. “Me too.” He glances at the clock. “Now go before Amelia sends out a search party for her coffee.”
“See you tonight,” I say, gathering the drinks. As I head for the door, I catch his gaze one more time. I’m in so much fucking trouble.
CHAPTER 22
CASPIAN
I stir the risotto just as I hear Nate’s knock at the door. Perfect timing. The risotto is ready, and I’ve managed to time everything exactly right. My heart flutters as I hurry to answer, smoothing down my shirt along the way.
When I open the door, Nate’s standing there with snowflakes caught in his hair, his cheeks pink from the cold. He’s gorgeous, and I resist the urge to pull him in for a kiss right there.
“Come in,” I say, stepping aside.
He toes off his snow-covered boots, revealing thick wool socks underneath. There’s something endearing about the way he carefully arranges his boots next to the wall, making sure not to track any snow inside.
“Something smells amazing,” he says, following me to the kitchen.
I’ve set the table with care—nothing too fancy, but nice enough with the bottle of white wine I picked up earlier and the matching plates my mom always insisted on using for proper dinners. “I hope you’re hungry. I made chicken and mushroom risotto.”
“Starving,” he says, settling into one of the chairs. “I spent most of the day trudging through snow-covered forests.”
I serve the risotto, watching his face as he takes his first bite. His eyes close briefly in appreciation, and I feel a warm glow of satisfaction.
“This is incredible,” he says after swallowing. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“My mom,” I say, pouring us each a glass of wine. “It was one of her specialties. We used to make it together all the time.” I pause, twirling my fork in the creamy rice.
Nate’s expression shifts slightly. “Actually, I wanted to ask about your mom at Lottie’s party, but I was a bit…distracted at the time.”
“Distracted?” A small smile plays at my lips. “By what?”
He clears his throat, pushing a mushroom around his plate. “Well, that Felix guy seemed pretty cozy with you,” he mutters, not quite meeting my eyes.
I laugh. “Felix? He’s just a friend. Actually, he’s becoming a good friend, but that’s all.”
“Oh.” Nate’s cheeks flush slightly, and he takes a quick sip of wine. “I just thought…”
“Nathan Stone,” I tease, leaning forward. “Were you jealous?”
“No,” he says quickly—too quickly—and his blush deepens. “I was just…curious.”
The warmth that spreads through my chest has nothing to do with the wine. Knowing that Nate might have been jealous makes me feel oddly pleased, even though I know I shouldn’t.
“When my mom introduced you at the party, she said she was your mom’s childhood best friend.”
“Oh, your mom and I haven’t had a chance to really talk about it yet,” I say excitedly. “I hope we can soon. I’d love to hear stories about what my mom was like growing up here. She always talked about Maplewood but not her life in Maplewood, and now that she’s gone…” I trail off, stirring my risotto with the fork thoughtfully. “It would be nice to learn about that part of her life, you know? To hear about teenage Elena before she left to chase her dreams.”
“Do you know anything about your mom’s childhood in Maplewood?”
I sit back on the chair, feeling the familiar mix of love and loss that always comes when I talk about her. “Not really. Only that she grew up here but left after high school. She had big dreams of being a singer.” I smile, remembering her spontaneous kitchen concerts. “She ended up in Phoenix instead, where she raised me on her own.”
“That must have been tough,” Nate says softly.
