Page 131 of The Problem with Dating

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I went backto the restaurant to cover the door with wooden planks, but to my surprise, my staff already handled it. I was damn lucky to have that team. After all was settled there, I ended up at Yara’s apartment.

She opened her front door with concern in her eyes. “Hi. Sorry. I fell asleep for a while and woke up to messages about the restaurant. Is everything okay?”

I sighed as I stood in her apartment doorway after the longest day. I felt defeated. Tired. Sad. But seeing her made it a little easier. My blood pressure dropped just from being closer to her.

I leaned against one side of her doorframe and crossed my arms. A small smile found me. “Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey,” She said, still worried. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Okay.” She leaned against the other side of the door frame and crossed her arms, mirroring me. “How can I help?”

I held a hand toward her. She took mine into hers. I pulled her into my chest and held her close. “This works.”

She looked at me with questioning eyes. “Just this?”

“Yeah. Just this.”

Holding her calmed the loudest noises in my head. Just having her close was enough to make a bad day not hurt as much. She soothed the deepest cuts solely with her touch.

“Goldie?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let go, all right?”

She held on tighter.

CHAPTER41

Alex

When Thanksgiving came around, Feliz and I pulled up to Matthew’s home around noon I knew I was told not to bring a dish, but I couldn’t show up empty-handed. Therefore, I spent the morning making Teresa’s favorite empanadas and a tortilla de patatas.

“Hey there, stranger.” I turned to find Tatiana walking up with a dish in her hands, too. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too,” I responded. “What do you have there?”

“Coxinha. It’s a Brazilian dish. My mother used to make them every Thanksgiving. I still keep that going with the Kingsleys. I just have to fry them inside.” She glanced down at my hands, which had two dishes. “Is that all you brought?”

“I was told not to bring anything, but I couldn’t show up empty-handed.”

She frowned. “So you’re letting them do all the cooking?”

“Why do you say it like that?”

She shook her head. “Oh, sweetie, you’ll see. The Kingsleys are known for a lot of things, but cooking isn’t their strong suit.”

That was…concerning.

Was I about to be stuffed with cream cheese, Ritz crackers, and some cheesy ramen noodles?

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