“Never.”
Her body melted into his and he kissed her, slow and deep. “What do you want to do?” she asked when he pulled away.
“Keep seeing you. Figure it out. I care too much to walk away.”
“Me, too.”
He didn’t tell her he loved her. He didn’t tell her he wished he could buy a big ass house and move her and Bear in. That justwasn’t reasonable. So, he gave her something else, something he hadn’t shared with anyone.
“I haven’t let myself go this deep with a woman before. Not since…her. I’d like to explain why.”
He sensed her slight hesitation, as if she was afraid to hear what he had to say. But when she tipped her head back and met his gaze, he only saw warm empathy and an invitation to hold his secrets with care. “I’d like to hear it.”
“It was my mother.” She sucked in her breath but remained silent. “My dad was never in the picture so my mom was everything to me. And we were really close. It was funny, when all my friends used to complain about their moms all up in their business, and how frustrated they were, I never understood. It was like we just got each other, it was us against the world. I went to college for food service and management. I graduated at the top of my class and she was there every step of the way. Sure, I wished many times I had a dad in the picture, but she gave me so much, there was never any lack in my life.”
Devon took his hands and squeezed tight. The warm pressure gave him a sense of peace as he continued. “We used to go to different restaurants and created a book of our favorite meals and places to go. Never once did she question my decisions, even if I made the wrong one. She’d just be there to support me when my life blew up. And damn, it happened a lot.”
They smiled at each other, and he looked at her beloved face, realizing it had been a long time since he spoke about his mom. It felt good to share, as if breathing fresh air into a damp, musty closet.
“One day, she told me she found a lump in her breast and needed surgery. She made it sound easy, like they’d take it out and she’d be fine. But then they discovered it had spread. She went through chemo.” He clenched his jaw, fighting the awfulimages of his mom struggling so hard not to leave him. “It didn’t work.”
The raw empathy in her gaze steadied him. Her emotion eased some of the ache in his chest, like she was releasing something he couldn’t himself. “She died three days before Christmas. I remember looking at the lights and the decorated tree. I listened to the carolers and everyone around me with their joy and enthusiasm over a holiday, and kept thinking over and over that I’d lost my mother. How could the world be happy when my mom was gone? It seemed like a cruel joke. Took me years to even be able to stand any of the trappings. I went to a grief counselor because I was in a bad place for a very long time. Lost jobs. Drank a lot.” He dragged in a breath. “I didn’t want that. Mom would have been devastated to know I was ruining my life, so I took time and worked on myself to get better. But the sting of Christmas has always been a hurdle for me. Brings it all back.”
Slowly, she picked up his hand, turning his palm up. His skin tingled as she caressed his tattoo. “What was your mother’s name?” she asked softly.
His heart stopped, then thundered. “Rose. Her name was Rose.”
She nodded and bent her head, brushing her lips over the ink. His skin was wet when she looked at him. He brushed her tears away, touched at her naked emotion; by her being able to share his grief. “I’m sorry, Jameson. So much makes sense now.”
“Devon, this past Christmas we spent together? It was the first time I felt good again. That’s what you bring to me.” He paused and looked in her eyes. “Hope.”
She wrapped him in her arms, laid her head on his heart, and held him for a long, long time.
Chapter Thirteen
“Good to see you, man. How was the trip?” Jameson greeted his cousin in the parking lot of the Physick Estate.
Mac gave him a short, hard hug. “Pretty damn nice. Flew business class on my sister’s dime. Watched a bunch of movies and slept decent. Is that what the good life is like?” he teased.
Jameson laughed, knowing his cousin loved to rib him about being a big time, fancy New Yorker at a starred French restaurant. “Welcome to my world. In fact, I have a huge surprise for you. I’m glad you were able to come straight here.”
Mac rubbed his hands together. “Are you kidding? I miss this place big time. Vintage is in my blood. How did everything work out? I heard there were a few bumps with the Fur Gala but it ended up being a huge success.”
He paused, wondering how much to tell his cousin, but he figured the gossip zinging around town already hinted at his experiences here. No need to go into more detail. Jameson was slated to return to work on Monday. Usually, diving into the chaos and stress of the restaurant he’d learned to love would stir excitement. It was a familiar world for the past five years, and he never questioned his happiness with the choice.
Until now.
Shaking off his thoughts, he forced a smile. “Yep, we worked out all the kinks and it was a great event.”
“Glad to hear it. And Devon? She’s an amazing woman. I heard you two have gotten close.”
“Yeah, we have.”
Mac cocked his head and studied his face. “And? Is it serious? Are you going to keep seeing her?”
The question burned in his gut because the answer sucked. Yes, but he hated the idea of fitting her in around his crazed schedule. “We’re working it out,” he said.
Mac got the message and dropped the subject. “Great. So, what’s the surprise?”