Page 39 of Tall, Dark, & Ginger

“It’s not hard for you. We have different relationships with her.”

“I know she can be difficult, but she loves you.”

“Difficult? She spent a solid year of my life bursting into tears and praying every time she saw me because the devil had his clutches in me.”

“That was her religious phase. You know she’s over that now. She doesn’t care that you’re gay.”

Shaking my head, I drag a hand through my hair. This is useless. Whitney will never see my side of it.

“I’ll call her.”

“See how easy that is? I’ll send you pictures of Riley’s recital.”

“Great.”

We end the call and I slump against the counter. I know I need better boundaries with my family, but at least I don’t live near them anymore. Now that they’ve moved upstate, neither Whitney nor my mother can just show up anymore without planning ahead. Sometimes I still find myself wondering what life might have been like if my dad was still around. Would my mom have been more stable? Would I have pursued the law career he wanted for me? Would Whitney have chosen a different path?

The kitchen door opens, filling the space with familiar voices and pulling me out of my depressing thoughts. It’s Indy, Kit, Bane, and Jerryn, and my mood dips with disappointment that Ridley isn’t with them. Before I can wonder where he is though, the door swings open again and he enters with Salem and Lowen.

Everyone’s talking at once, carrying on separate conversations within the group, but Ridley’s eyes are on me, a soft smile on his face.

“Morning, Chef.”

“Morning.”

“You good?” he asks.

I nod, glancing at my still-blank specials notebook page. “Yeah. Planning for next week.”

“I vote to bring back the shrimp tostada bites,” Salem says, leaning on the counter. “Those were popular.”

Lowen nods. “I agree. You might want to consider adding them as a permanent item.”

I scrawl that on my paper. “I noticed that too. Thought I might play around with a tropical wing sauce.”

“Oooh, something with pineapple?” Jerryn says. “I love pineapple.”

“I can do pineapple.” I write that down. “Spicy and sweet is always a good combo.”

The guys filter past me to the office, but Ridley lingers, leaning over the counter so there’s barely any separation between our mouths.

“I woke up with a massive hard-on,” he whispers, checking that the guys are gone, “and memories of that mouth of yours.”

My stomach flutters. He never flirts with me at work or mentions what we do in the dark once the sun comes up, but this is fun.

“What did you do about it?”

“Nothing. I’m saving it up.”

“For?”

“For whenever you come around again.” He rests on his elbows. “But I have a wicked craving for something only you can only give me.”

I lean in slightly, close enough that I can feel his breath on my lips. “What’s that?”

Ridley drags his tongue over his lips, his eyes dancing. “You, fucking my mouth, spilling your cum down my throat.”

“Jesus,” I whisper, reaching down to adjust my growing erection.

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