Page 77 of Tall, Dark, & Ginger

He nods, but I sense his hesitation. “Sure.”

“You’re holding back.”

He shrugs, scooting back a little. “I guess I was thinking maybe you’d move your stuff over. Unless you think you need your own space sometimes. I get that. It’s just that you’re here every night and I want you to be, but if that’s too big of a step right now, that’s okay.”

His sweet offer bounces around my chest. All the other times in my life when someone asked me to move in felt so different. There were always alarm bells ringing in my head, signs I should have heeded, flags I should have noticed, but right now I can’t find a single clue that Ridley isn’t the man I believe him to be.

“I think that would be nice,” I whisper, then clear my throat. “More than nice. I’d like to.”

Relief washes across his features. “The room is still there if you need a break.”

“Ifweneed a break. This isn’t just about me, Rid. It’s new to you too. You’ve never had someone in your space a hundred percent of the time.”

“No, you’re right, but it’s a big room and a big house. I think we’ll be okay.”

“You’re ready to work and live with me, huh?”

“Already do, gorgeous.”

I smile, carding my fingers through his soft hair. “I’m in, and I’m gonna keep working on things so I can be the man you deserve too.”

“I’m not worried about that, but I am here to support you through it. You can always talk to me about anything. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t.”

Ridley leans in to land a soft peck on my lips. “Do you want to clean up and watch a movie?”

A yawn hits me and I stretch. “How about a quick cleanup and then bed? I think I’m sleepy.”

He smiles. “Sounds perfect.”

TWENTY-NINE

WREN

Four months later

“This is incredible,”Salem says, passing the magazine to Bane.

“Look at you, man,” Bane says from his position at the dining room table.

“You look like a rockstar,” Jerryn says, leaning over Bane’s shoulder.

“He is a rockstar.” Ridley winks at me.

I take the magazine, reading over the article title again: “40 Under 40” featuring forty different chefs across the metro area. I’m in the top ten at number seven, which is pretty badass for a small-town queer bar.

“It’s unreal.” I chew on my bottom lip.

“You earned it,” Lowen says, smiling like a proud father. “You put us on the map with your talent. We’re so lucky to have you, Wren.”

I feel my cheeks burning, but I nod and smile. “I feel the same about you guys.”

“But of course this means we’re getting slammed this weekend,” Kit says, sliding his arm around Stewart’s waist. “The magazine is already hitting mailboxes and it goes on sale today.”

“We’re ready,” Indy says. “We can handle it.”

“We can,” I reply, gazing at Ridley.

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