Page 95 of Unraveling Rain
Xander lunges forward and scoops me into his arms like I told him he won the lottery.
“Fuck, Cherry. I was hoping you’d say something like that, but I didn’t want to push. I never want you to feel like you’re giving up your life for me.”
I smile into his chest, feeling so completely seen. So deeply cherished.
“Thank you, Hotshot. For always knowing what I need, and giving me the space to get there on my own.”
He tilts my chin up and kisses me, sweet and steady. And in that moment, I feel invincible with him.
“Okay,” he says, drawing back just enough to look me in the eyes. “So what do you need to do to step away from the diner?”
“I think I want to promote Blair to head chef,” I say, already ticking through the mental checklist. “Then I’d have to hire a new sous-chef and take over as the manager.”
He arches a brow. “And you would be okay with that? Just managing? I know how much you love being in the kitchen.”
I smile. “Yeah, I think so. I can always hop back in and help when I’m around. And I’ve thought about continuing to teach at Serene Lookout when Ruin has clients.”
He nods slowly, absorbing it all.
“I feel like shit that you’re the one making the biggest sacrifices in this relationship,” he says quietly, his voice laced with guilt.
I reach for his hand. “That might be true. But your job is the least flexible of the two. And it isn’t a thirty-year career. When you retire and we’re living here full time, things will shift again. These… sacrifices are only temporary. And if I ever decide to go back to the diner full-time, I can.”
His eyes shine with emotion. “How on Earth did I get so lucky?”
I shrug with mock nonchalance. “Not sure, dude. I’m quite the catch.”
He bursts out laughing, and I join him, the sound echoing warmly through the RV. I feel light, elated—like we’ve finally figured out our path forward.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
I nod. “Starving.”
“Good, because I made us dinner.”
He looks so proud of himself that I don’t even make a sassy comment. Not yet.
“What did youcook?” I ask, rising from the couch, only to freeze when he pins me down with a stare.
I lift my hands in surrender and sit back down, laughing.
He pulls a casserole dish from the oven, and a rich, buttery seafood aroma fills the air. My stomach growls.
“Mmm, that smells delicious. What is it?” I ask as Xander plates two generous servings of the golden, bubbly dish.
“It's a lobster casserole—my family’s recipe,” he says, then grabs a bottle of wine and pours us each a glass.
Once the table’s set, he comes over to help me up from the couch.
“Thank you, kind sir,” I say with a curtsy
He grins. “M’lady.”
We sit across from each other. I take a cautious first bite, and nearly melt into my chair. Buttery, flaky lobster, perfectly cooked pasta, and a rich, decadent sauce that’s almost sinful. A soft moan escapes me.
“Damn. That good?” he teases.
I keep my eyes closed and nod, savoring the bite..
