“Mom, I did great. Right, Hunter?”
Hunter nodded, clapping Tyler on the shoulder. “He did really well.”
“We went up the coastal highway,” Tyler said.
My chest tightened at the thought of all the curves along that highway, perched above the ocean. One wrong move and the car went over the side of the mountain.
“Don’t worry, Mom. We were totally safe. Even the curves.”
“I’m glad I didn’t know that’s where you were,” I said.
“I’m starved,” Tyler said. “Can we start dinner?”
“I’m hungry too. Let’s make it happen.” Hunter gestured toward the kitchen as Tyler sprinted that direction.
I caught Hunter’s hand, stopping him. “Thank you for taking him out,” I said quietly. “You have no idea how much it means to him to learn to drive.”
“Oh, I know exactly. I was a fifteen-year-old boy once too.” He leaned down to give me a quick kiss. “You have a fine boy, Seraphina Sinclair. Well done.”
I flushed with warmth. “Thank you. I like him quite a bit myself.”
We headed to the kitchen. Tyler was already there, staring down at the seasoned steaks.
“How do we know if they’re ready to grill?” Tyler asked.
“They should be ready by now. Anyway, we’re ready, so they’re as good as they can be,” Hunter said. “Ideally, they need twenty-four hours in the fridge with the salt rub, but we’ll do that next time.”
Next time.Why did that nearly knock me over with the pure joy that flooded my veins?
“I’ll make the salad and asparagus if you two want to grill,” I said.
“Excellent. Tyler, take me to the grill. Let me show you how a good southern man grills up a steak.”
“Is it different than a west coast man would do?” Tyler asked so genuinely that it made my eyes feel scratchy with promised tears.
“I don’t know,” Hunter said. “But probably.”
I took out the ingredients for the salad, but then went to stand by the open French doors to the patio, curious about how one made the perfect steak, southern style. I had a sudden ache for my dad, wishing he was here to be part of all of it. He would have loved Hunter. I knew that with certainty. But he was somewhere, watching over us.
Hunter lifted the grill lid, checking the grate. Tyler leaned in, watching carefully. Hunter showed him where to lay the steak, how far from the center of the heat. Tyler nodded, clearly hanging on every word.
“Okay, so we already did the hard part,” Hunter said. “Seasoning it right. That’s half the battle.”
“Salt from high up. Don’t be timid.”
Hunter chuckled. “Exactly. Now this part’s about heat and patience.”
He held his hand a few inches above the grates. “Feel that? That’s what we want. Grill’s good and hot so we can get a proper sear.”
Tyler mimicked him, then pulled his hand back quickly. “Yeah, that’s hot.”
“Good,” Hunter said. “Go ahead and lay the steak down. Away from you.”
Tyler placed it carefully on the grill. A sharp sizzle followed.
Hunter nodded once. “Now we leave it.”
Tyler glanced up. “Don’t move it?”
