James speaks from the doorway. “Tommy said he told you that you would have your own cottage. Did he not actually?”
“Definitely not.” I go into the little kitchen and touch my fingers to the small wooden table. There’s a vase of flowers in the middle of it. “He said there would be a chef’s quarters. To me that implies a tiny room to sleep in . . . possibly connected to the kitchen.”
He hasn’t moved. “You thought I was going to make you live in a closet?”
“I wasn’t ruling out a cot.”
“And still you said yes?”
I gape at him. “Absolutely! You’re already giving me my dreamjob, which I don’t deserve.” I hold my arms out, face beaming, embarrassing tears bubbling in my eyes. “But an adorable Snow White cottage? This is too much. I can’t wait until the talking animals arrive.”
“Technically, it was a potting shed. I just—” He stops. Clears his throat. “Theyconverted it to a cottage. It’s good it’s finally getting use instead of wasting away on the property.” His smile dims. “Plus . . . if you weren’t staying in it, another chef would be.”
“Stop trying to make this less wonderful to me.” I walk into the designated bedroom area and then look back at James. “C’mere.”
He frowns.
“Look at this,” I bait him.
Now his frown is all concern as he pushes off the doorframe and comes to stand shoulder to shoulder with me, looking toward the bed, eager to correct any flaw I’ve found. “What is it?”
“That’s my bed,” I say flatly.
“Yes.”
“You brought my old bed over from Emily’s house. And the matching side table.”
“You needed somewhere to sleep . . . and to put your eight thousand glasses of water.”
I angle my chin up at him. “My point is, would you have gone through all the trouble to bring over another chef’s bed? And furnish the place? And where is this bedding from? You went through trouble—for me—and I don’t know why you’re trying to downplay it all, but I need you to know I’m grateful.”
He’s trying to hide it, but he’s beaming—caught.He wanted me to feel comfy here. “Emily helped. We got the stuff from your old room over here, and then she took me thrift shopping for some of the other furniture, like the table and chairs. She’s great at it.”
“She really is. But she never hinted at any of this to me. I wonder why.”
He shrugs, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Clearly he hasn’t realized yet that friendship with me means you get to take up as much space in my life as you want. “Maybe she thinks you like surprises too.”
I stare at the side of his face. “I do. That’s one thing you and I have in common.” And then I throw myself back onto the bed. “Did Emily thrift this amazing bedding too?” It’s soft as cotton candy.
“Nah, that’s a gift from my mom. She was really excited to hear you were coming to live on the farm and told me to make sure you knew it’s a housewarming present.”
I peek up at him, aware that I’m glowing like a lightbulb. “Is it customary for the restaurant owner’s mom to buy the new chef a bed set?”
“Fine.” He huffs against a grin. “I guess it does have its perks to be friends with the owner.”
“I knew it.” I let my eyelids fall shut, feeling as close to ecstasy as I’ve been in a while. “You have no idea how good it is to be free of Bryce. And Sammy is going to sleep so good without hearing all the noisy sex every night.”
“I’m glad for Sammy.”
My palms drift over the soft fabric, realizing I have never had my own place before. I went from sharing a house with my sisters to living with the roommate from hell. There are a million things I can do alone at home! Walk around naked. Sing as loud as I want at midnight. Use up all the hot water in the shower. Arrange the fridge exactly how I want.
“Look away for a second,” I tell James, who is watching me with a bemused smile.
“Why?”
“So I can kick my feet and squeal like a child without you judging me.”
“I won’t judge you.”
