Page 19 of Gooey

Chapter 7

Winter

Despite Moore’s obvious discomfort with people looking at me, I don’t feel like we’re being watched. I can tell he doesn’t love being surrounded with me here—maybe he doesn’t like it at all. He perks up when he notices me devouring my spaghetti though.

I’m a little pissed that the only warm meals I’ve had in the past two years have been few and far between. The tough blow of knowing how many meals have been just under my nose this whole time is soothed by the knowledge that Moore won’t let that happen again.

And the fact that he wants to take me away from here? That fact feels even better than the steamy food filling my stomach.

“Tell me about your family?” I ask quietly, taking a sip of my peach-flavored drink.

Moore goes on to tell me all about his siblings and his parents. He’s the oldest, Morris is the middle child, and Meghan is the youngest. They’re all in their thirties now, but Moore isn’t sure if either of his siblings are in relationships. He really hasn’t contacted them at all for nearly three years.

I don’t have any siblings so I can’t say that I understand whatever complex relationship they’ve crafted over time, but Moore is sure that there won’t be any hard feelings when he calls Morris.

He talks about his parents next, explaining that he doesn’t think they’re awful people. He even insists that the two of them raised him well. They are just fundamentally different from Moore. They thrive in boardrooms, making million-dollar deals and he feels suffocated by that life.

Frowning after I digest the information, I ask, “Won’t you be expected to go back to the family business if you go home?”

Moore shakes his head. “They know I won’t. I’ll continue to manage this place remotely and hire someone to be my eyes and ears when we go.”

When, not if.

“And you’ll be happy? Without this place?”

His eyes are soft as he reaches for my free hand. “This place isn’t the key to my happiness, Winter. It’s been the only thing keeping me from being miserable, but it’s not my happy place. You are.”

My insides melt, warmth blooming from my chest and spreading all over. I like that we can be honest about how we feel, even if it’s abnormally fast. I can’t think of a person I’ve ever met that wouldn’t look at me like I have seven heads if I admitted to falling for Moore so quickly.

They’d call it some sort of syndrome or defect—claiming that I only want him because he saved me. But what’s so wrong about falling for the man who would plunge into certain death just for the chance to save you? I’m not going to panic and suggest slowing down. I’m not going to fear the way he makes me feel, because nothing has ever felt better.

“You’re my happy place too,” I whisper, kissing his cheek lightly.

Before we can go back to chatting, someone sits directly across from us. I look up, finding a somewhat familiar face. He’s older, maybe old enough to be a grandpa, but he still looks healthy. Like a farmer might—strong but wise.

“Moore,” he greets, nodding to my man before turning to me. “Winter, you feeling better? You don’t look so blue anymore.”

He was there when Moore saved me, I gather.

“Much better,” I answer honestly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember who you are.”

The man chuckles. “No need to be sorry, you were all out of sorts last time. I’m Rob, one of the managers here. I see you two are getting along.” His eyes dart between Moore and me, noting our proximity.

“We’re getting married,” I tell him proudly, testing the waters with an abrupt splash. I don’t want to waste time on anyone who’d judge us for how we choose to live.

His eyes light up. “That right?” Looking Moore in the eye, his lips broaden into a smile. “I always knew you were smart, son. Good for you.”

Surprised to find not a hint of judgment in his words, I extend my hand for a proper introduction. When his rough palm meets mine, I grin. “It’s nice to meet you, Rob.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he returns. “I’ve been waiting for the day that someone comes along to sweep Moore out of here.”

“Rob is under the impression that I don’t really belong here,” my man grunts by way of explanation. “Not permanently, at least.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” I tease, smiling at him.

The three of us hold an easy conversation for a while and it’s nice to see Moore interacting with someone he clearly respects. It all comes to an end quickly when I yawn though. My hero becomes a mother hen instantly. Excusing us and practically dragging me back to bed. I thought it was a little dramatic of him until my head hit the pillow and I realized how tired I really was.

“When are you calling your brother?” I ask sleepily.

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