Page 82 of Stirring Up Love
“More like let me shred cheese and open cans occasionally. But I learned a lot, just watching. I celebrated a birthday while I was with them, and they gave me a cast-iron skillet. A month later, the wife got pregnant. And that was that.” He rolled his shoulders, like he was shaking off the hurt.
“Shit, Finn, do you have any good memories?”
He huffed out a chuckle, then looked at her over his shoulder. “Today is a pretty great one.”
This time she didn’t try to ignore the gush of warmth in her heart at his words. She was close to telling him she felt the same when steam hissed out of the polenta pan.
After taking the lid off, he gave it a stir. “And even with how things ended, those dinners are still good memories. I think those moments of unhurried togetherness are what I’m trying to recapture every time I work a shift at Bellaire or pack up meals. I might never start a culinary school, but hopefully the meals I cook offer people that same chance to gather and be renewed.”
Family or not, Finn was creating a legacy through his food. Through his compassion.
“Do you still have the pan they gave you?”
“Nah. I left it. Too heavy to carry,” he said. “But a few years ago, I bought my own.”
“Not too heavy to carry?”
“Not anymore.” He smiled over his shoulder. “I’m grown now.”
Yes, he was. Not just physically, but in emotional maturity. Miles ahead of her, but he made her want to catch up. To do the work on unpacking her past like he so clearly had.
He sampled the veggies and rooted around in the spice cabinet. Seasoned the dish again. Then he plated the polenta and topped it with the ratatouille. Placed a garlicky toast point on the edge and passed it to her. “Dinner in a bowl, but at least it’s not cereal.”
“This smells divine.” Simone drew the plate to her nose, inhaling, glad of the neutral ground. She scooped up a bite of polenta. Not gritty, or mealy, or soupy. Creamy and luscious. Just right. They exhaled in tune, and he raised his brows.
“Better than Cap’n Crunch?”
“So much better. You can cook polenta for me any day.”
“At Honey and Hickory?”
The polenta turned gummy in her mouth in an instant, her stomach churning. Just when she’d started to think there might be something between them. Something that transcended the deal. Something more than the miles they’d traveled or the misunderstandings of their past.
Hands numb, she set down the bowl. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
CHAPTER 28
FINN
“Simone, wait. I was kidding.” Mostly.
He knew a franchise wasn’t her first choice, but she’d promised to think it over. And with it clear they didn’t have a problem with each other on a personal level, he thought she might be open to taking the deal, using the investment fromThe Executivesas a starting point to their future. A future together, as allies. As partners. Asmore.
He grabbed the candelabra and followed her out of the room. She was already halfway up the darkened stairs. If she was willing to brave this house alone, he’d really gone and pissed her off.
“Whether you were or not, we can’t keep pretending this deal isn’t looming over our heads.” She shouldered the door open and disappeared inside.
When he entered the room, she’d shut herself in the bathroom. He set the candelabra on the dresser. Stood outside the door for a moment, hand poised for a knock. Wound up retreating to a chair in the corner, not sure if she’d want him in the bed or not. At least Eunice wouldn’t have to worry about them breaking any furniture tonight.
He’d spent nights in back seats that were more comfortable than this bed. Nothing wrong with the mattress; his discomfort had everything to do with his epic miscalculation in the kitchen.
He’d offered to sleep downstairs on one of the couches—If you think I’m staying in this room for one second without another living, breathing human to keep me company, you’re out of your mind—and then offered to take the floor, to which she rolled her eyes and turned on her side.
Simone lay next to him under the covers, but with the gaping distance between them, she may as well have been back in Illinois. All the ground they’d covered in the past few days had gone up in a puff of smoke like an extinguished candle.
She was right: the deal wasn’t going away. It had been stupid to pretend. Stupid to think this suspended reality could last forever. Soon they’d go their separate ways.
And Monday? At this point, he didn’t know whether she’d even log in to the meeting with Constance and Keith.
