Page 59 of The Kitchen Contract

“What are we doing here?” I ask, puzzled. “I was promised breakfast.”

He leans in for a quick peck on my lips and grins. “I’m a man of my word. I brought your breakfast to you. Fingers crossed you won’t be disappointed.”

He’s wearing a t-shirt and cargo shorts, and I admire the outline of his muscular calves on display as I follow him to the passenger side where he rummages around in a white paper sack and produces a chocolate croissant and an iced coffee. I reach for them with a smile. “I approve. So what are we doing here?”

“I got to thinking, and all we seem to do when we’re together is eat and talk.” He balances his own coffee and croissant in one hand while he shuts his door with the other. “So I decided today we would eat and talk and walk. Have you ever been to Fort Negley before?”

“No.” I take a bite of my croissant and look around with renewed interest. Now that I know I’m at the right place, I’m curious.

“C’mon, I’ll show you around.” I follow Alex as he walks past the visitor’s center and through the stone columns at the entrance. “It was built in 1862 after Union troops captured Nashville, and there’s not a lot left, but there are paths going past what there is.”

It’s a beautiful morning to be out walking, the temperature still comfortable at this time of day. A thin haze of fog hangs in some of the low-slung areas, but I know it will melt away quickly as the warm, golden rays of early sun currently caressing us strengthen to a hot blaze.

We chat quietly as we trek through the fort, sipping our coffee and lingering over educational plaques positioned beside the asphalt trail. It’s remarkably peaceful here, and I can see why this spot was chosen for a fort. The view is incredible. You could see someone coming from miles away.

After an hour, we return to the parking lot and sit in Alex’s car, squeezing in a few more minutes before he has to leave for work.

“Thanks for bringing me here. We should go out and do stuff more often.”

“We should,” he agrees with a smile. “Where else would you like to go? Have you been to the Parthenon? The Hermitage?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m embarrassed to admit that I haven’t done many ‘touristy’ things since I came to Nashville. At first, I was busy with school, then with work, and then…the truth is, I didn’t want to go do things by myself.”

“You didn’t have any friends to go with?”

I look out the windshield to avoid his eyes. “I don’t make friends very easily. I had a few friends in school, but then when all that recipe stuff went down, well, I guess they didn’t think it was a good idea to stay associated with me. I’m friendly with my coworkers, but I’m not really friends with any of them. I do have Annie, Maddy, Kayla—all my book club friends.”

“How did you get connected with them anyway?” he asks.

“Kayla invited me. I was in the waiting room at my dentist’s office, and she came up to me to tell me I was reading one of her favorite books. We got so into our discussion that the hygienist had to call her name three times before she finally went back.” I smile at the memory.

He chuckles. “That sounds just like her to walk up to a perfect stranger like that.”

“She’s a good friend. But we don’t get to hang out a lot because she’s busy with work and being a wife and soon a mother. Same with Annie and Maddy. It’s fine, though,” I hasten to add, lest he think I’m angling for a pity party. “I don’t mind being by myself most of the time.”

“Hmm. Well, you have me now,” he says, holding out a hand. I place my hand in his, and he grips it gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I have all kinds of places I want to take you. I’ll be your Nashville tour guide.”

“I can’t wait. You know, I never really intended to stay in Nashville.” I look at Alex and find him listening quietly, his gaze fixed on mine. I’m not even sure why I’m telling him this. I guess I just like letting him know me. “My plan was to get my certification and move on. That’s probably the main reason I didn’t make friends, now that I think about it. Why create ties in a place you don’t plan to stay in?”

“And what about now?” His voice is low and intense, and I know what he’s asking. Am I still planning to leave? Especially now that we’re together?

“I find I’m feeling more at home here than ever before,” I reassure him with a smile. “I have a boyfriend now, and with the video channel and blog growing—let’s just say I like the direction I’m headed.”

He grins. “Good.”

He lets go of my hand to cup the back of my neck and pull me in for a kiss that gets my whole body tingling. I’ve only been kissed a handful of times in my life before Alex—if you don’t count that mouth bump with Sammy, which I don’t—and none of them were ever like this. Every time our lips meet, even if it’s only for a second, electricity jolts through me and I feel inexplicably drawn to Alex. Whenever we touch, whether it’s a hug, kiss, or just holding hands, it feels like two magnets snapping together. It feels…right.

Alex pulls back with a sigh. “I really need to get to work. I have a call scheduled first thing, so I can’t be late.”

I pat his cheek. “Thanks for the fun morning. We’ll have to do this again soon.”

“Definitely.”

I climb out of his car and into mine. He doesn’t pull out until I do, following me to the road where we part ways as I turn right and he goes left.

I can’t stop smiling and sighing happy sighs as I drive to work for my shift until I pull into the parking lot. My mood sags a bit as I prepare to walk inside. The minor discontentment that I’d felt with my job a few months ago has been steadily rising parallel to the growth of the From Couch to Potatoes audience. It’s getting harder and harder to go in there and make the same meals over and over, and I’ve been finding myself more and more distracted as I work, my mind occupied with ideas and lists for things to try or that I need to work on for the video channel and blog.

For the gazillionth time, I think about the question my mom asked me. Could I make content creation into a full-time gig? In some ways, it seems too good to be true, but it also is beginning to feel like something that might be within reach if I stand on my toes and carefully stretch for it. These last few months of working on a project I’m passionate about alongside a guy I’m crazy about have begun to restore the confidence and hope that I lost when I got booted from the culinary program. I’m not proud of the way I let that experience get me down and put a lid on my ambition and dreams, but now that the lid has been removed? It feels like anything could be possible.

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