Elliott wasdeepin his element, a frilly floral apron around his waist. Adam scraped back his hair to tie it up for him, while Ben offered hydration in the form of a beer—with a straw in it. Lifting her knuckles to her mouth to stifle a smile, Fern watched him work.
“Butter!” Elliott called, and Adam slapped a half stick in his open palm.
Catching sight of his current sous chef, he huffed, “What are you doing in here? Get back on the grill, dude. Bring in the vegetables, and flip the chickenafterthe steaks, got it?”
“Yes, sir!” Able saluted Elliott’s back, tapping his solidly coiffed dark hair, sending it swaying in one singular wave. Offering Fern and Liv a wink, he turned to head onto the deck.
Ben continued to assist Elliott, and Noa appeared with drinks—two beers in one hand and a chocolate milk in the other. A wave of overwhelming emotion sloshed around in Fern’s chest. The hominess of this whole place surprised her, as did the reception she was being given by these people who hardly knew her and owed her none of their time.
“Livvy—” Capturing her best friend’s hand, Fern swung around to face her, fighting the tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you so much for this, for helping me find my new job, the opportunity, the welcome. Thank you.”
“Awh, lovey, come here.” Liv wrapped her in a huge hug, and Noa joined in, splashing beer on all of them in the process.
It was a fantastic feeling—not the beer—leaving behind the city, a bunch of casual acquaintances, and a job she hated to land in a new place with new friends and a job she loved. To be fair, she hadn’t started at the salon yet, but Fern felt confident life wasbetterhere in general—even with a confusing man standing a few feet away making magic happen at the stove.
“To Fern’s new beginning?” Noa asked.
“To your new beginning,” Olivia said with a grin.
“To my new beginning, let it be better than the last few.” Fern joined in on the toast, and when their glasses clinked, she thought she caught Elliott smiling at a frying pan.
“So, haircuts,” Noa began after they’d sat at the marble-capped island to keep an eye on the cooks.
Fern gave her a moment to continue but realized that was the whole of it. “Yes, that’s what I do?”
“Sorry, I got distracted by the white part of your hair. Could you do that with mine? Even if you can’t, I want an appointment. I’m in desperate need. You need a haircut too, Fitz.”
Liv snorted, and Elliott’s shoulders rounded as he looked back at them.
“Soon,” he said.
Watch, he would probably go on one of Ros’s half-days… on purpose. Fern fought an eye roll, certain she was right. He wassofucking weird; clearly attracted to her but unwilling to consider a relationship. Which, for the record, she hadn’t brought up, hadn’t even thought about because they’djust met. But he had to go and put the kibosh on whatever was between them because he was a bizarre and broody man. Freaking artists.
Maybe she should be glad she wasn’t one.
Liv leaned into Fern’s shoulder as she reached across the counter for a napkin. “Are you all right?” she whispered.
“Yeah, why?” Fern asked at full volume.
“You’re just quieter than usual.”
“Oh. I’m hungry, distracted by dinner. And yes,Noa, let’s get you in for a cut, and we can do a color consult at the same time. I’ll do a bleach-test and let you know what you’ll be in for if you want to go for it.”
“What should I do with my hair? I’m down for anything as long as I can still put it up for work. I’ve accidentally trimmed it way too many times while cutting stems for arrangements.”
“Spin, let me look at your face.” Noa turned with a grin, her dark, almond-shaped eyes sharpening with her wide smile. “You’reseriouslyhot. You’d look beautiful bald, with a pixie, bangs, or a shag. Whatever you want, you can pull it off.”
Preening, Noa lifted a hand beneath her chin and batted her lashes.
At the stove, Elliott huffed, rolling his neck before plating freshly sauteed green beans and moving on to whatever dish was next.
Adam returned from the grill, and once the meats, vegetables, two pies, and three warm loaves of bread were out on the island, everyone set to filling their plates, filling the table, and filling the room with conversation. Fern hoped, stupidly, that Elliott would take a seat near her. But he did the “chef thing” and hung near the dishes until they were each seated and eating, then he picked at a few items on the island.
“Ate while I cooked,” he rumbled when Olivia encouraged him to join the group.
On her left, Able scoffed and grabbed another steak. “How do you like town so far? Have you had a chance to check out the bar or the inn?”
“It’s the cutest place, and so far so good, but it’s only been a day. I’ve been to Reads & Roasts, my apartment, the salon, here— Oh, and Elliott’s driveway, accidentally.”
