Page 124 of Stolen Dreams

“When you love what you do, it’s hard not to put all of your energy into it,” I answer.

Until a few months ago, I didn’t want to change my ways either. I love being in the kitchen. I love taking simple ingredients and making a masterpiece. But most of all, I love hearing and seeing people’s reactions to my dishes. Their praise and admiration fuel my soul.

But I’m excited for the next leg of my journey. Thrilled to discover a new love for food by teaching others.

“True,” Sakari says as she stacks the trays over a pot of boiling water. “But I’m happy she’s on a more balanced path now. You’ve given her that, and I thank you.”

Once again, I’m struck speechless. Thankfully, the awkward silence doesn’t last long.

Kaya and Tucker return and the conversation shifts. She sidles up to me and wraps her arms around my waist from behind. “Did they ask all the invasive questions?”

I rest an arm over hers and chuckle as Tucker plops down on the seat to my left. “Not all of them, but plenty.”

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t be.” I caress her skin with my thumb. “I expected it.”

Kaya releases me and joins the three women on the other side of the counter. She plucks a handful of berries from a bowl, picks up an ulu, and slices the fruit. She works with the crescent-shaped knife as if she has done it thousands of times. Once all the berries are sliced, she adds them to a casserole dish, squeezes fresh lemon juice on top, and sprinkles them with a heavy amount of sugar—no measuring.

Watching her is enthralling. How she moves with such ease. How she makes baking look sexy as fuck.

Is it like this for her with our roles reversed? Because I definitely want to watch her in the kitchen a hell of a lot more.

She takes some of the remaining dough her grandmother used for the cakes and adds it to the top of the fruit. As she wipes her hands on a towel, she peeks up at me from beneath her lashes. “Quit staring,” she mutters, the corners of her lips twitching up.

“Not a chance, Fire Eyes,” I say nowhere near as quietly.

She rolls her eyes then steps away with the casserole dish, puts it in the oven, and removes a sheet pan with huge dill-coated salmon filets on cedarwood.

My mouth waters.

Everything other than the large pot’s contents is added to serving platters. Kaya goes to the fridge and pulls out a salad that must’ve been made before we arrived. Dishes get carried to the table and set in the middle, and I take one without asking, wanting to help.

Other family members appear out of nowhere. Hugs and greetings get exchanged, then we all take a seat. Tucker keeps to himself unless someone speaks directly to him. But he doesn’t appear overstimulated or panicky.

Plates and bowls are filled and Kaya relays to me and Tucker what’s on tonight’s menu. Bannock—a bread that can be eaten with savory or sweet dishes or on its own. Ground fish, shrimp, and goose wontons. Bison stew with root vegetables. Slow-roasted cedar plank salmon.

Tucker picks at his food until he decides he likes all of it. I love his adventurous spirit.

Conversation erupts around the table, everyone sharing details of their lives since their last gathering. I anticipate more questions, maybe from Kaya’s father or brother, perhaps an uncle, but am asked none.

When the oven timer goes off, Kaya excuses herself. As she enters the kitchen, her mom meets my gaze from the other end of the table and raises her glass.

“Thank you for joining us, Ray and Tucker. We all see how much light you’ve brought into Kaya’s life. It overjoys us to see her so happy.”

Kaya takes her seat next to me and mutters, “Mom.”

Sakari carries on. “We’d love to see you both more often. During family dinners or nights when our schedules align.”

My heart rattles my rib cage as emotion clogs my throat. “Tucker and I would love that very much. Thank you.” The underlying anxiety I had about Kaya’s family accepting us fades more and more with each kind sentiment.

“But we’d like you to take it slow,” Sakari adds. “Get to know each other better.”

I wring my napkin in my lap as my unease slips back in.

Kaya sucks in a sharp breath and gingerly sets her fork down. “We’ve spent the last two months getting to know each other. We have taken it slow.”

I mentally tip my head side to side.Kind of slow.

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