“What? No. Sloane, I’m calling for advice because I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t want advice, you want permission. Teddy was an ass; he made your brother miserable. The wedding cost a fortune, and a lot of people put work into it, then it didn’t happen. You want to move on from him and what happened, but you feel bad.”
“That’s not it,” I said quickly, too quickly maybe. I started to pace, something I did a lot lately.
“Really, then why are you working so many hours for Jace’s company when you don’t have to?” I winced as her words hit home. “More importantly, why are you keeping Elias at arm’s length even though you are both adults who clearly like each other?”
“He’s Jace’s employee and his friend…” I whined.
“And I am your friend, and now dating your brother. And what was your reaction when I told you that?”
“I mean, I was happy for you guys, of course.”
“If you care about people, you want them to be happy,” she cut in. “Jace cares about you.”
“I know,” I said quietly, sitting on the side of the bed and picking at the edge of my blanket. The same blanket I’d thrown over Elias and I the day before. I brought it to my nose, still smelling a hint of fresh-cut pine on the fabric.
“You have to decide what you want. Not what you think other people want for you. Not what you think you deserve after your last relationship went belly up. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I think you know what’s right.”
After we hung up, I sat with her words. She was my friend; she wouldn’t have said the things she did if she didn’t think they were true. I did feel guilty about how Teddy treated Jace. I did feel bad that so many people had provided money and help towards my wedding, and then I’d called it off.
Was that part of why I was keeping things with Elias from being more?
Why I hadn’t asked him if he wanted to go from pretend to real even after what happened last night? I knew my brother forgave me; my family understood. Sloane was still here with me even after the things that had happened. Maybe tonight I could put my past aside and enjoy Elias’s company. See things for what they were without the weight of a past relationship shaping my feelings.
There was a knock at the door, and my time was up to figure out what to do.
I opened the door, and a gust of cold wind swept into the room, making my skin prickle. Elias stood there looking unfairly good in a simple pair of jeans and a jacket, holding a grocery bag in each hand. “What’s all this?”
He shrugged. “Figure maybe I can scare Teddy off with my terrible cooking skills.” He moved into my cabin, his pine smell coming with him, and kicked off his boots.
I laughed and took the bags to the kitchen. He came to stand beside me, unloading groceries onto the counter and washing his hands. “What are you going to make?” I tried to remember if Teddy ever cooked for me, then shoved that thought aside;this wasn’t about him.
“Pasta with shrimp in a creamy pesto sauce, the only dish with more than three ingredients I can make. How’s that sound?”
“Amazing,” I said honestly, my shoulder bumping his as I started peeling garlic.
“It will be if I can pull it off. Otherwise, we’ll fill up on garlic bread and wine.”
“That should be plan A.” I grabbed the bottle of wine from the counter and poured us each a glass.
We joked as we worked side by side, our arms brushing just often enough to have my skin tingling with awareness. It was dark outside the window, cold with a bit of snow falling, but inside the cabin it was warm and bright, smelling of pine and garlic.
Despite his saying he couldn’t cook, it smelled amazing and within a short time we had dinner ready to eat.
We settled in at the table, wine glasses refilled and a pot of pasta between us big enough to feed twice as many people. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his forearm flexed as he stirred the pot. He dished some onto my plate, making sure I got lots of shrimp, then filled his own. “Should we toast to something?” I asked.
“Sure, how about a toast to carbs?” He took an exaggerated bite of garlic bread.
I laughed. I had been thinking a toast to fresh starts. To friends becoming more. To realizing what really mattered. But I like his toast better. It was simple and honest. I picked up my glass. “To carbs,” I clinked my glass against his and started twirling pasta around my fork. I could feel him watching me, so I took a huge bite. The taste hit my tongue, and I moaned. “Oh my god, this is amazing.” I turned to look at him; his mouthwas hanging open with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“That was…quite the reaction.”
I blushed and laughed as I chewed. “Just showing my appreciation to the chef.” In my old life, the years I was with Teddy, we kept things pretty formal. No coffee in our pajamas or pizza nights in front of the TV. I enjoyed it at the time. I thought it was what grown-ups did. But this, joking about carbs and letting my appreciation for the taste really show, this was better.
“I wasn’t sure if I should have made a garlic dish,” he said, wiping a spot of sauce off his chin.
“Garlic is always the answer for future reference.” It really was delicious.
