“No. And if you hear the stories about their courtship, when Grandpa met her, his parents were livid. They never thought she was good enough for him.”
I wondered what his family would think of me. Would they think I was good enough for him?
He placed the piping hot bowl of soup in front of me and slid the plate of grilled cheese next to it.
“Are you eating?”
He shook his head. “I had two bowls earlier. But Iwillhave a glass of wine with you.”
I blew on the soup before taking the first spoonful. When the flavors hit my taste buds, I closed my eyes and savored my meal. Not only had he made my favorite soup, but this was now my favorite version of my favorite soup.
“Do you like it?”
“Hmmm,” I practically groaned as I ate it. “Yes, it’s perfect. Tell me how you started baking your own bread. I didn’t think they taught this at billionaire prep schools.”
He rolled his eyes. “My grandmother visited and discovered I had been obsessed with a local Italian bakery. It turns out that her sourdough starter came from the same place as theirs. That led to an education in sourdough starters and bread baking.”
“You talk more about your grandparents than your parents. Why?”
He looked away and swallowed hard before continuing.
“My parents are good people, so there’s no drama there. But they’re a bit like Peter Pan and Wendy. They never matured. My grandmother blames herself and has decided to do better with Colby and me. I think that after growing up in such difficult circumstances, she overcompensated with my dad. She realized somewhere later on that struggle can build character.”
“So, she makes you struggle?”
“Not exactly,” he said, gesturing to the penthouse. “But she decided we needed to learn to do things ourselves and not rely on staff or help. And that included cooking. It turned out to be something I enjoyed, and it was an opportunity to spend time with my grandmother.”
I remembered when my sisters and I were younger. I hadn’t realized that my mother’s adventures were a way to occupy us and distract us from what we didn’t have.
“None of us realized our parents often struggled to make ends meet until Kylie became friends with Lily Bradshaw. She never tried to make us feel like we were less than her.”
“Huh. Her family and mine were close until the incident happened with her father. Lily and I went to quite a few summer camps together. She was always genuine. I’m not surprised your sister was close with her.”
While we talked, I finished my soup and sandwich, and Hawk cleared my plate and bowl.
“I don’t mean any offense by this, but do you clean this place? Or do you have staff?”
“Ugh. No, my apartment is way too big for one person,which means it’s too much for me to maintain alone. I do what I can, but I have staff.”
I understood a bit. Since I started working for the Minutemen, my work-life balance has been a little off. I started paying to have my laundry done. At first, I felt guilty, but now I enjoy my time outside the laundromat. I tried to imagine Hawk on his hands and knees as he scrubbed the tub, but I couldn’t.
I yawned, a reminder of how late it was.
“I should get going.”
“I have a spare bedroom if you want to stay?—”
I searched his eyes, and what I found mirrored my thoughts. Neither of us wanted the night to end. But we also seemed to understand that tonight wasn’t sexual. Yes, attraction was more than evident, but there was more than that between us.
“Can you get me home early?”
He smiled, realizing he had me. “Name the time.”
He picked up a remote control, and I watched as the fireplace lit up in the sitting room.
“Go relax while I clean. Do you need anything from the car?”
I nodded. “My suitcase has my skincare and a toothbrush.”
