Page 92 of Stirring Up Love
Mrs.Blake shot him a sly grin. “Guess I see why my granddaughter saw fit not to leave you in the desert.”
He’d dodged a bullet but walked right into a firing squad.
Wayne Blake sat at the head of the table, the platter of eggs Finn had cooked in his clutches. “What I’m trying to figure out”—Mr.Blake scooped all the rest of the eggs onto his plate—“is why you’re at my kitchen table right now and not halfway home with your tail between your legs.”
Because you held me hostage last night?Since that answer might not have gone over well, he opted for another truth. “I planned to be home by now. But Alisha invited me to stay for her party, and I figured it would be rude to refuse the bride.”
“Hmph.” Wayne shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth, chewed. “Didn’t seem worried about manners when you bad-mouthed me on national TV last week.”
“Wasn’t you he bad-mouthed,” Ellie countered, and Finn flinched. She may have forgiven him, but her allegiance was clear. Still, she offered him the pitcher of orange juice, which he took before Wayne could snatch it.
“Sure he did.” Wayne frowned. “Dragged my restaurant through the dirt.”
Finn spoke before thinking. “Actually, sir, it’s not technically your restaurant—” Technically not a point he needed to make right now, but five days with Simone had cemented the distinction into his head. “Not yours, uh—” He darted his eyes across the table. Quentin and Hector took a bite in unison, watching him like must-see TV. “Not yours anymore, I mean. Sir,” he added, like a moron. Like it would help.
Wayne’s bushy white eyebrows went up, and he wiped his mouth on a cloth napkin. “Sure as heck ain’t yours neither. If you think my granddaughter’s going to give up over half the restaurant to a vulture like you, you got another thing coming.”
A vulture like you ...the words pressed against an old bruise. An outcast. Ostracized.
She hadn’t called or texted. Left him here to fend for himself. Without her to vouch for him, he was a stranger. An uninvited guest. A nobody who’d spoken out against their granddaughter in front of an audience of millions. How could he expect them to forgive him?
But Simone did. She was sarcastic, and blunt, and prickly as the cactuses—cacti—on the pajama pants she’d gifted him, but she’d let him in. Forgiven him. But stopped short of trusting him.
“No need for name-calling, Wayne,” Quentin said, snapping him back to the present, “And as for the restaurant, Finn’s right. That’s Simone’s decision to make.”
Finn shot him a grateful smile. Already he could see why Alisha was marrying this dude. Heck, he’d marry him if he got him out of this conversation unscathed.
“What’s my sister’s decision?” Alisha appeared in the vestibule in a bright-red hoodie and leggings, dark circles under her eyes, looking like she could use an IV of electrolytes.
“Whether or not she plans to sign away half of Honey and Hickory,” her grandfather said.
“Finn’s right—it’s her decision,” Alisha told Wayne. At least he had the younger generation on his side. “And I know you trust her, because she would’ve told me if you’d been butting in, trying to run the place. So quit scaring the company.” She kissed Quentin, then snagged his coffee and chugged half of it. Finn grinned despite his unease. The sisterly resemblance was uncanny. Coffee thieves, both of them.
“I’m on strict orders to drive Finn straight to Meg’s so he can pick up the rental car,” she said. “Simone’s worried about how long she’s kept you away from the real world.” Or anxious to get rid of him.
Frowning at Finn’s empty plate, Alisha nabbed one of Hector’s three muffins and passed it across to him. “And also she doesn’t want to waste another two hundred bucks on the rental. Her words, not mine.”
But why hadn’t she come herself? Probably busy with something wedding related. After all, she was supposed to have been home a week ago. He decided not to read too much into it.
Mouth full of bacon, Alisha asked, “Had enough to eat? Because I can wait.”
He pushed the chair back so abruptly it tipped over and smacked the floor. Fumbling to pick it up, he said, “I’m good to go.” His stomach rumbled, and he coughed. “Thanks for the ...” He eyed the dregs of orange juice in his cup. “Wonderful to meet all of you.” He looked at Quentin and Alisha when he said this, lest he get struck down by a bolt of lightning for a lie. “And again, sorry for staying over unannounced.”
“That’s not what you ought to be apologizing for—” Wayne said, but Alisha cut him off.
“Grandpa, I think Simone’s got this.” Another vote of confidence. She’d have a lot of people on her side if she decided to pursue her dream, he was sure of it. Alisha planted another kiss on her groom-to-be’s cheek and grabbed Hector’s neck in a half hug. “I’ll see you boys later. Finn?”
He’d never been so grateful to leave a table hungry.
“Sorry, I’m sure you were probably expecting my sister.” Next to him in the driver’s seat, Alisha navigated one handed along the winding, hilly gravel road. Simone had said her sister loved city life, but she was clearly at home on these back roads too. “I think she was a little overwhelmed. She’d planned to do a lot of the prep for tonight ahead of time.”
“Prep?”
“Yeah, for the rehearsal dinner. We’re having it at Honey and Hickory, and the staff is great, but Simone wants to make sure everything is perfect.”
Hosting the bachelorette partyandcatering the rehearsal dinner? Gosh, he’d really screwed her with all the delays. “Could she use a hand?”
“Are you kidding? Quentin’s got more first cousins than my whole family tree, and they’ll all be here in a few hours. She could definitely use a hand. But what about the car?”
