Page 39 of Known By You
My obnoxious and maybe slightly exaggerated groan of ecstasy when I popped the entire mini lemon cake thing into my mouth cut him off but honestly, there was no exaggeration. It was delicious. Somehow buttery and light at the same time. Soft and spongy but like, with a nice give.
I needed to watch moreBritish Bake Offand remind myself of the proper terminology.
“Decent, then?” he asked, looking a little less scowly as I swallowed and took a dainty sip of tea, pinky out.
“That was incredible. Honestly. I could eat a hundred of those and still want more.” I held my fingers out, dramatically circling the plate he’d filled with the sweets, and plucked up another one.
“Good to know.” He pulled out a small notebook and scribbled something with a pen he’d magically produced.
I blinked. Who was this man? I mean, I knew him. I did. But this part of him felt unfamiliar.
“Yeah, I guess. So, are you thinking you’ll sell baked goods? Or is it just a hobby?” I reached for one of the shortbread cookies.
He didn’t answer, only watched me as I chewed. Good grief, the man knew his way around a baked good.
I may have made another mildly inappropriate sound in appreciation of his gifts and talents.
His staid face cracked the tiniest bit, a smile sneaking in at his crow’s feet and the corners of his bearded face. He might try to hide it, but he liked knowing people enjoyed his goodies.
He also had no plans to chat about said goodies, and so I needed to suck it up and be honest.
“So. I did that weekend mission.” He’d likely heard of it since I knew he and Cookie had hung out Saturday.
He waited, sipping his tea silently, his eyes telling me he was listening.
I wanted to squirm. I wanted to run.
Instead, I just let ’er rip.
“I was with Liz. Liz Malcom. And she’s so…” I let out a pent-up breath and pulled my hat off my head, ran a hand through my hair, then settled it back down. “She’s freaking great.”
He set down his teacup. “Not here for long, though, is she?”
I slumped back against the couch, eyes on the ceiling. “Nope. Maybe a few months, but something tells me she might leave sooner. Seems kind of restless.”
I couldn’t quite pin down what I sensed in her other than discontentment. Whether it was at being here or with her job or the situation she’d vaguely mentioned had drivenher to come back stateside and moonlight with Saint, all was not right in Liz Malcom’s world.
I pinched the delicate curve of the teacup’s handle, wondering if I did so hard enough, it’d break.
“So? Are you going to ask her out again?”
Stone knew, like most everyone at Saint now, that I’d struck out with her before. It wasn’t like she’d broken my heart, but since it was the first time I’d attempted taking someone out whom I was actually interested in, it had been noteworthy.
I laughed but it sounded less joyful and more tired. “I also ran into my family in Vegas on the way home.”
His brows rose. Not everyone knew about my family’s messy story, but those closest to me did.
“You okay?”
My heart squeezed, aching for the pain I always used to feel just thinking about my family. I appreciated his care for me, relieved he was able to ask me that, and loving him for it.
“I am. Surprisingly. It was a crap show for sure and I hate that it happened in front of the client and Liz, but I saw G and ultimately it reminded me I don’t need them to be my family. I have a new one and it’s not contingent on performance or achievement or anything else. I’ll never regret something that reminds me of that.”
“Me neither.”
Our gazes held for a moment. Did all the times we worried he’d forgotten it flash through his mind, too?
Whatever the case, eventually, I snagged another shortbread and ate it in bliss before asking him the question we both knew was coming.
