He found a storage container of penne and red sauce, another of salad, and spied some of the sourdough bread that he’d made himself that morning.
“Sit at the counter and let me do this for you,” he told Pepper. “You want a drink? Soda? Water? Wine? I see a red that the troops did not finish.”
“Water is fine, and I’ll get it. Being treated like a queen is not in my job description.”
He looked up from the pan he was filling with penne to warm on the stove. “You’re off the clock. I can’t afford overtime.”
She got water from the fridge and took it to the island, settling on a barstool. “You know I’d do this for free. I love Atlas.”
He smiled. “The feeling is so mutual, I’m pretty sure I’m losing him to you.”
“No, never. He loves you. Tells me that all the time.”
Laughing at one of their favorite inside jokes, he turned on the gas burner and threw her a look. “And Chef Broussard? Does he tell you how much he…doesn’t want you to hang around me?”
“Let it go, Jonah.” Propping her chin on her hand, she pinned him with a dizzying gaze. “He’s all bark and no bite, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” Jonah’s face grew serious. “He told me to stay away from you. I think it’s fair to say he hates me.”
She took a sip, shaking her head. “That’s not hate,” she said when she swallowed. “That’s caution.”
“I don’t know that I can tell those apart on Marcel Broussard’s face.”
“He most certainly doesn’t hate you,” she added. “He thinks you have promise. But… he’s…protective. And…” She paused for a long enough time that he had to look up from the stove to gauge what she was about to say. “So are you, or you wouldn’t have insisted on babysitting me during the storm.”
He considered that, adding salad to Pepper’s plate. “I did not insist.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Maybe a little. But you shouldn’t be alone, no matter how safe the house is. I’m surprised your father thinks it’s a good idea. Especially if he’s protective.”
“Look, we’re from New Orleans, so we know what a storm is. We weren’t close and didn’t get flooded, but we lived through Katrina. He bought this house specifically because it’s a fortress, not on any water—there’s a creek a mile away—and took down trees that could fall on the roof. It’s fine.”
He took a minute to fill her plate with the pasta and pour himself a glass of red, then presented her dinner but didn’t put it down. Instead, he angled his head toward the deck. “Last time for a few days we can dine al fresco. Let’s sit out there. Grab some silverware and your napkin of choice.”
Outside, the air was thick and humid, but still. Not even the first of the winds had picked up yet.
She sat at the large dining table facing the water and he took the seat kitty-corner, setting her plate with a flourish and a warning. “Bon appetite, but remember, I didn’t make it.”
That made her laugh, which turned into a soft moan at her first bite. “Kate’s good.”
“Excellent,” he confirmed. “Okay, well, even in a fortress, I’m glad you won’t be alone.”
“You’ve got a very protective streak, Jonah.”
For some reason, the comment, especially since it was the second time she said it, hit hard. Maybe not for “some” reason. Maybe because once, he hadn’t been protective enough. And the price had been…high.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
He looked up, not surprised she read his expression. But what should he share? The truth, of course. Always.
“Once, not so very long ago, I failed spectacularly at protection.” He heard his voice crack, and by the look on her face, so did she.
“Jonah.” She put down her fork and placed light fingers on his arm. “Will you tell me? You never have, you know. No one has. I don’t know any details.”
“There aren’t a lot,” he said. “It was a simple, tragic, utterly avoidable accident.”
“Tell me,” she urged.
