Hesmiled down at me, taking the bait, but there was something in his eyes thatlet me know he was only being kind for my sake. There was a gentleness there,meant for me. A sweet question of, “Are you okay?” with a vindictive sharkswimming in the background. Wyatt didn’t take shit unless it was from Killianor Ezra. He wasn’t about to let Dana Swift bust his balls. Even if she was mymom.
“Wyatt,this is my mom, Dana.”
Wyatttook her hand, but quickly released it, reaching for mine instead. As if westood like this often. With his hand still on the small of my back, splayedfamiliarly… possessively and his other hand holding my fingers loosely in his,my body tucked into his like we were a couple. Or two people with zero physicalboundaries—the latter probably more accurate.
“Hi,Dana,” Wyatt greeted brightly.
Shetried to smile, but none of us believed her. “Everything has been delicious sofar.”
Wyattlooked at me, our eyes connecting in another one of his encouraging glances.You can do this, he seemed to say. You’re strong enough for this. And becausehe believed it, I believed it too. The gaping wound my mom had opened with talkabout Nolan and marriage and my priorities began to close, my body ached less,my heart hurt less.
“Thankyou,” he told her patiently. “You won’t eat a better meal in the city.”
Mymom blinked at him, but his confidence held strong. I also knew he believedwhat he said. It wasn’t bravado for the sake of standing up for me. Lilou wasthe best. It was worth sacrificing for.
“Wesee that,” my dad said tersely, saving the conversation.
Iturned to Wyatt, putting my hand on his chest, realizing too late howcomfortable we looked touching each other. His arm that was already resting onmy back, slid around and tugged me toward him, settling me against his body andholding me there. I focused on his face, stopping myself from glancing aroundin a panic. It wasn’t only my parents that I was worried about watching us now.His entire staff could see our public display of affection.
Therewould be no way to stifle the gossip. This was exactly what I didn’t want tohappen.
Andyet… I didn’t hate it either. Yes, thinking about my career and theimplications this would have on my application for Sarita, I wanted to shrinkinto a tiny version of myself and race out of here like a cartoon Jerry tryingto escape Tom’s sinister plans. But, the girl inside of me—the one thatcontrolled my emotions and soul and my broken heart—rested in this touch, thiscloseness, the way he held me so firmly but so delicately. My heart grew threesizes in his arms, allowing my body to feel comforted and healed and held allat once.
“Youshould probably get back to the kitchen,” I told him, even though all I wantedto do was throw my body around his like a boa constrictor and never let go.“I’m not in there to save your ass tonight.”
Hesmiled down at me, his mouth a sanctuary of affection and his eyes a temple ofdesire. His expression was nothing short of adoring. God, how had I caught thisman’s attention?
Andhow was he still here after everything I put him through? How had he not runaway screaming by now? How did he ignore every single word out of my mouth andonly pay attention to the signs I was too chicken to say out loud?
“Don’tremind me,” he groaned. Tipping forward on his toes, he pressed a sweet, slowkiss to my forehead.
Iwas momentarily blinded by the riot of butterflies inside me. They started lowin my belly, but quickly spread to every extremity, making it impossible tothink straight or form words or do anything but melt into a sticky, gooey pileof adoration.
Wyattstepped back and addressed my parents. “Your food should be out in a minute. Itwas nice to meet, y’all. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” To me, he said,“I’ll text you later, yeah?” He started to pull away but didn’t. He quicklyleaned in and caught my ear with his lips. “By the way, I’m thinking aboutmaking this your new dress code. Goddamn, woman, you know how to bring me to myknees.” And then he was gone. Back to his lair, while I was left to convince mybody it still had bones to hold me up with.
Howdid he do that? How did he make me feel so completely hot and melty and… soft?I wasn’t soft. I was hard, edgy… biting. I was a venomous snake. I was asnarling Pitbull. A barbwire version of what I used to be before unrequitedlove and devastating heartache had made me completely pull into myself.
Bracingmyself for my parent’s questions, I collapsed on my chair and turned to facethem. They were as flabbergasted as I was. All they could do was blink at me.
Thankfully,our food came out, saving us from trying to speak in full sentences until we’dcollected our scattered wits.
Kimwent over each dish, reminding us what was in front of us. She took anotherdrink order—I asked Darius to surprise us.
Iwasn’t entirely sure that alcohol was going to improve the evening, but I waswilling to give it a shot. Besides… I still had two days left with my mother.Probably best to soak everything in booze—especially my sharp tongue.
“Wyattseems nice,” my dad said evenly as he cut up his steak.
“Areyou dating him?” my mother demanded, her tone shrill and slicing. “Is this whatyour hang up with work is?”
Itook a bite of my handmade tortellini, closing my eyes against the fresh tasteof blanched sweet peas and wholesomeness of pasta from scratch. The sauce wasperfect tonight, hot and creamy and just a little tart thanks to the sharpnessof the aged parmesan. God, I could eat a gallon of this. Carbs and my ass bedamned.
“Thething with Wyatt is…” Not real. Too real. So very real. “Early.” I cleared mythroat. “My hang up with work is that I love it. I love it more than I’ve lovedanything in my life.” I pointed my fork at her when she started to protest.“Including Nolan.”
“Maybeyou should back off for tonight, Dana,” my dad tried.
Butmy mom was a dog with a bone. “You can’t hide in a kitchen your whole life, Kaya.Eventually you’re going to have to come out. And when you do you’re going tofind that you’re all alone and life has,” she made a vanishing gesture with herhands, “passed you by. No man is going to want a shriveled-up spinster, even ifshe can cook him a good meal.”
Islid to the edge of my chair. “Life is not passing me by, Mother,” I snapped.“I’m living life. I’m living it to the fullest. I have an amazing job. A jobother chefs would literally kill for.” I glanced at my dad. “Not literally. Butdo you know how many other chefs want my job? How many are dying for the day Ileave? A ton. So many. And I love my friends. And I love my apartment in thecity. And I love my life. I love it. And I have a man. A good man. A smart,creative, super talented man. A man that I love—” the words caught me offguard, sticking in my throat and burning my tongue. I hadn’t meant to say that.I hadn’t even meant to think it. “To work with,” I finished. Calmer, slower,with more intention, I repeated. “A man I love to work with. A man that makesme a better chef. And a better person.” I relaxed in my chair, realizing thatall these things were true. I not only felt them, I meant them. I didn’t haveto convince anyone else. I could… rest in their truth. I held my mother’s angrygaze, praying she would see the sincerity in mine. “Nolan was never that manfor me, Mama. We were kids. And he… he’s never grown up. He’s still the samekid, still playing the same games, still using the same tricks. But I’m not thesame. I have grown up. And my taste has grown up. My qualifications. Mypreferences. I’m sorry that you think Nolan is this great love of my life, buthe’s not. And I’m also sorry that you think I need a husband to make my lifeworth living. Because I don’t. I’m happy. Really, truly happy. And I would loveit if you would be happy for me.”
