Page 114 of Things We Burn

Kane’s playful glint was gone. “I like my life exactly how it is, don’t need to change shit, and I’m not takin’ food from my woman and baby.”

My smile died on my lips. I didn’t know how to cope with the new Kane who yo-yod back and forth so quickly.

So I didn’t say anything, I just ate my croissants.

Fiona was right, we had a lot to talk about. But we didn’t speak the entire time we were at the table.

Nineteen

The energyin the car ride home was heavy. Oppressive. Just like the air this morning after the storm.

I kept going over the speech he’d given Fiona, the way he’d offered so much information so freely. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like he wasn’t saying all of that for Fiona’s benefit or Kip’s. It was for mine.

Kane drove unhurriedly back to my place without asking for directions. First, though, he took a lap of the town, glancing at the streets, shops and the ocean as we drove past. He was taking stock of his surroundings, I guessed.

“What are we doing here?” I asked when he stopped at the grocery store.

“Chef, you’re growing our baby, your cupboards are bare,” he informed me as he parked. “We’re getting food.”

I nodded, unable to argue. I’d walked through the aisles with him like a zombie. He didn’t ask me what I wanted; he just piled the cart high with ingredients that I would’ve picked in another life. It seared my insides, the simple, domestic act. We’d done this in New York while joking, touching. More than once, hepulled me into an abandoned aisle to make out with me. There was none of that.

We just shopped, he paid and didn’t let me carry a single bag. I didn’t bother arguing about that either.

I didn’t ask him what he thought of Jupiter, Maine. Part of me didn’t want to know. It was peaceful, idyllic, without the chaos and danger of the city. He wouldn’t like it. It wouldn’t offer him the things the city did.

I could no longer offer him the things I did when I was a hotshot chef in the city.

We arrived back at my place, though it was still strange thinking of it as that. My cottage wasn’t colorful and cheery like the rest of the coastal houses. Its exterior was shades of black and gray, giving it an almost moody appearance—which I’d been drawn to. That along with the charm of it, the renovated kitchen and bathrooms, its proximity to the sea and privacy. And it had passed all building inspections with flying colors, was well maintained and wouldn’t need another roof for about ten years, barring any natural disasters.

Not that I imagined being there for ten years. Though theoretically, that was the goal, right? Somewhere quiet and safe to raise the child of the world’s most famous daredevil.

My palms itched with thoughts of the future, at the thought of preschool, of playgroups, PTAs… Motherly things that I’d never thought I’d be part of.

I stewed on that as my sandals crunched over the gravel of my driveway, transitioning to the stone pavers that led up to my front door.

Kane followed me, arms laden with bags, not saying anything as I unlocked the door and walked into the living room. Blanche barked in greeting, running up to me. I petted her dutifully, grateful for something to do because I had no plans when I walked in.

While Kane unloaded the groceries, I spent as much time as I could petting Blanche. Unfortunately, she was a traitor and trotted over to Kane for ear scratches once he was done.

I turned around to look at him, watching as he lavished Blanche with attention. I was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, unable to think of what to do with myself. Running sounded good. Yes, running out of the room was the best choice. Or apologizing. Had I done that? Apologized for abandoning him? I hadn’t.

Yes, that was what I needed to do. Although this thing between us was complicated, I knew in my heart that I’d failed him by believing Brax so easily.

I opened my mouth to say sorry, but Kane spoke first.

“This place.” He twirled his finger around the room. “You got a mortgage?”

I nodded, taken aback by the question.

He clicked his tongue, eyes stormy. “Okay, we’ll call who we need to call. I’ll take care of the mortgage. I’ll get another car in the morning too. Yours paid off?”

I nodded again, trying to process exactly what he was saying. I had a more-than-healthy savings since I was paid well for my job and hadn’t had overhead beyond my rent-controlled apartment.

I bought the car in cash because that’s what I’d deemed most sensible. The house was another story. The cottage might’ve been small and quaint, but it was still an oceanside property on two acres of land. Jupiter was becoming a desirable area. Therefore, the price tag on the seaside cottage was more than modest.

Even for me, it was too much. I might’ve been a well-known chef cooking food for billionaires, but I was far from one myself. I hadn’t capitalized on my position by selling my name for cookware or recipe books.

Maybe I should’ve. Because now I was unemployed, with a mortgage and a baby to take care of … forever. Yes, my savings would keep us afloat for a time, but not forever.

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