Page 124 of Here & There

“Whatever happens,” I say to Deanie when the others are busy with the cake, “I meant it about you being CEO.”

Deanie squeezes my hand. “We’ll talk later.”

I never thought I’d say this about work after burning out the way I did, but I missed these people, every last one of them.

Even Clientzilla.

I love them, and I love Mac.

My heart is in absolute shambles.

Chapter 30

Mac

If I wasn’t already in love with Shelby, I’d fall all over again watching her eat.

She spends all this time constructing the perfect bite. “You need to get the ratio right, see? Like a bit of the base, some of the meat, and thenjustenough sauce.” She swirls the fork around on the plate before holding it up, then giving a little nod, like she’s telling it she’s good to go. Then she pops it past those pretty bow-tipped lips and closes her mouth, chewing for a full few seconds before closing her eyes and moaning.

When she opens her eyes, I’m staring.

She giggles. “I know. I’m ridiculous.”

“I love ridiculous,” I say.

She smiles, those gorgeous liquid eyes melting my insides, and I want to tell her right now. I want to scream it from the rooftops.

Instead I reach into my pocket and pull out the little box. It’s a white cardboard jewelry box, the kind my sister used to collect when we were kids, with a little square of plush fluff inside. I made sure not to get a fancy one. I didn’t want Shelby to jump to conclusions and freak out.

The last thing I want is for her to jump into the ocean to get away from me.

She doesn’t notice it at first. It’s fair. She’s still too involved in her food. Plus the restaurant is dimly lit and loud, with people talking at every table, the clink and hum of dishes and service staff. And under it all, music. Coltrane, I think.

The restaurant Shelby chose to take me to is a modern fine dining place right downtown, with an incredible menu and fresh, locally sourced ingredients. She introduced me to the chef as well as the manager, who sat with us for a good twenty minutes, giving me a thousand new ideas for the Dinghy, despite it being the busiest time of night on the busiest day of the week.

Despite the world being convinced I’m a small-town boy through and through, I actually don’t mind visits to the city. Mostly for the food, which I just can’t get out in Redbeard Cove—unless I make it myself. But ingredients are easier to get here. And new poncey-ass cooking implements from my favorite kitchen supply stores.

But I also like being in the city now and then for the contrast. Noise, so I can enjoy the quiet back home. Hustle and bustle, so I can slow down once I step off the ferry.

“God, this is so good I think I might just order it again to take home,” Shelby says. “How’s yours? You’ve hardly touched it!”

I look down at my pistachio-crusted halibut. It’s fucking gorgeous. Delicious too, but I stopped eating after the first bite. I inhaled my appetizer—a frisée salad with pine nuts and a balsamic reduction, as well as the fresh oysters. But now, knee-deep into dinner with that box on the table and the words I want to tell Shelby sitting on my tongue, I suddenly can’t eat.

“You okay?” Shelby asks, frowning.

“Never better.” Nervous as fuck, but still on cloud fucking nine with Shelby Jones.

I glance down at the box on the table.

Shelby’s eyes follow mine, and she frowns. She’s finally noticed the box. Her eyes snap to mine. “What’s that?”

I rub my hands over my thighs. I’m sweating. I’m also wearing nice pants, which I hope I don’t wreck. I want to tug at my tie. It feels suddenly tight. “I, uh, I got something for you. I mean, I didn’t buy it.” I say the last part quickly. “I found it. I thought?—”

Fuck, I sound like a blubbering idiot. Annoyed with myself, I take a swig of wine. It’s fucking delicious, but I hardly taste it.

“Maybe just open it.” Or don’t.

Shelby takes the box, and I immediately start to panic. It’s too much. It’s a tell. It’s going to show her how fucking obsessed I am with her and?—

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