“I guess there’s no harm in talking when we meet tomorrow,” Pa said, nodding. “Don’t be late. I can’t wait to see what you’ve made of the restaurant.”
I was relieved to be out of there. I was a little sad on my way home, thinking about how uncomfortable I felt in my family. Family should be a safety net, the place to go when in doubt or hurting. I had none of that right now. Tate had been family, and I had ruined that relationship by trying to come between him and Bryan. Now that I was with Keith, I doubted he would ever want to be friends again even if he somehow found it in himself to forgive me for the whole ‘falling in love with him’ fiasco. He hated Keith.
I groaned when I arrived home to find Keith sitting on the steps of the porch. My heart did a flip-flop thing in my chest as he rose to his feet upon seeing the car. He looked better than I’d seen him last night, but he also wore a nasty bruise on his chin which was highlighted more because he had shaved. I groaned remembering how I’d swung at him first. For the most part, he had kept composed, not fighting back even when he tried to stop me from leaving. He had flipped out only after I continued pushing his limits.
I parked at the foot of the steps and switched off the ignition.
“Hey, I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” I said getting out of the car and walking toward him. My father kind of ambushed me.”
“It’s fine. I just got here.” He smiled a bit warily at me. “Like twenty minutes ago.”
I groaned walking by him to unlock the front door and lead the way inside. He entered, and I closed the door, turning to find him staring at me. I stood still, the air between us charged with tension. He reached up to brush the back of his hand against my cheek. “God, how can you stand the sight of me right now for doing this to you?”
I patted his chin. “The same way you can stand the sight of me after this.”
His hand slipped into my hair. “Come here.” I moved toward him and met him halfway as we kissed. His lips were gentle against mine, moving slowly but possessively. He deepened the kiss, his tongue drawing excited moans from me, reminding me of him calling earlier and the unspoken words of love between us. I didn’t expect to hear them, not then, not now, nor ever, and I was fine with that because I could feel it.
“Hmm, I needed that,” he said, releasing my lips.
“Me too. Let’s go to the kitchen. We can talk there.”
He never got the chance to look around the last time he visited. “This is a nice place,” he remarked.
“Not as grand as yours,” I replied.
“But homelier and that makes it even better.”
Once in the kitchen, he stopped short and stared at the kitchenware in shock. I could see why he was amazed. The combination of stainless steel, painted wood, and walnut wood mixed the traditional with a contemporary setting. The four-sided stainless steel island with two built-in commercial stoves and built-in ice container was the masterpiece of the kitchen. There were three appliance garages in total for the oversized appliances, and the lighting strategically placed in several locations. Chuckling, I opened the fridge and searched for the new batch of ice cream I’d whipped up. Original ice cream flavors were one of the desserts offered on the menu at the restaurant, and I was always looking to make new flavors. I figured talking over ice cream would be safe.
“Holy shit, Gio!” Keith exclaimed.
I glanced back at him. “What is it?”
“Is all that food?” He gestured to my open fridge and my face heated in embarrassment at my obsession.
“I cook a lot, okay?” I closed the door and placed the ice cream onto the island while I searched the cupboards for my favorite waffle ice cream dishes. “I’m usually here during the days, and since I stepped back from kitchen duty at the restaurant, allowing my team to handle stuff, I have more time on my hands. I’ve been dedicating it to coming up with new ideas to introduce to the restaurant.” I patted the ice cream container. “Like this. You’re going to sample this ice cream and give me your honest opinion.”
“I don’t know anything about food,” he answered, shifting on his stool. “I’ll basically eat anything that’s put in front of me. I didn’t have the luxury of liking anything when I was younger. I ate whatever was provided— if there was anything provided.”
I stared at him in wonder. That was the first piece of personal information he had ever shared with me. I felt the shift in our relationship as it veered toward trust. I smiled at him. “Well, that’s about to change. The partners of chefs are notorious food testers. You’ve just joined that elite club.”
He chuckled but accepted the bowl of ice cream I sailed down the counter to him. “I have a different theory. Want to hear it?”
“Shoot.” I got some ice cream on my index finger and stuck it into my mouth. When Keith went quiet I glanced at him because I was waiting to hear what he had to say. Instead, he stared at me sucking on my finger. “Pervert. Have you forgotten what you were about to say?”