Page 53 of Comforting the Grump

“It’s gotta sting that you have to compliment me after I told you I was sleeping with your brother.”

Auden winced. “Maybe we shouldn’t mention it for a while, how’s that? Because you’re right. He is a grown-ass man, and so are you, and if you two can help each other through a hard time, then that’s awesome… Even if I’m a little hurt and pissed that it wasn’t me.” He held up his hands before I could respond. “I know, that’s on me. Doesn’t mean I can’t be miffed about it.”

I could understand that. “So we’re good?”

Auden opened his arms again and before I realized it, I’d stepped into his embrace. He held on tight to me. “We’ll always be good, Marnin. You’re my brother in every way but biologically…which is why it’s gonna take me a while to get my mind around you and Ennio.”

Fair enough. “As long as we’re good, you have all the time in the world.”

He stepped back. “’Cause you’re not going anywhere.”

“Of course not.”

“You plan on being with Ennio long-term, then.”

Oh fuck. I’d walked right into that one, hadn’t I? “You know I don’t do relationships.”

It was the weakest delivery of that line ever, and Auden slapped my shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that, my friend.”

18

ENNIO

Iwiped my hands on my apron and nodded. This sauce was coming along nicely, if I said so myself. Two weeks had passed since I’d lost my job at The Lodge. Two weeks since I’d had to tell my parents about losing all my savings—which, granted, they’d taken far better than I had expected. Dad had said scammers were getting more and more sophisticated, and if dozens of rich people got fleeced by Bernie Madoff, I shouldn’t blame myself for believing Rudy Catanzaro. That had been sweet of him, and my mom had hugged me fiercely and told me how sorry she was for me.

It had also been two weeks since I’d taken up residence in Marnin’s guest room, though I spent most of my time sleeping in his bed. Not that I minded, and I still needed every inch of the guest room closet for my clothes, so it was working out fine.

Still, the sting of disappointment over how my life had taken a course for the worse lingered beneath a thin veneer of relief. At least I wasn’t unemployed anymore. My job as a line cook at an Italian restaurant called Bellissimo might only be part-time and wasn’t what I had dreamed of, but it was honest work. I only worked the lunch shift, so at least I was home at a decent timeevery day. And I made enough to pay my mortgage, which was my biggest concern right now. Losing my house was a looming defeat I wanted to prevent at all costs.

“Something smells incredible in here,” Marnin’s deep voice called out as he entered the apartment.

My heart did a little flip at the sound. “Perfect timing!” I turned to face him with a bright smile. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Marnin’s eyes roamed over me appreciatively as he shrugged off his jacket. “Look at you, all domestic. That apron suits you. That little bow right above your ass makes it pop.”

I struck a flirty pose, hand on my hip. “Everything suits me, darling. You should know that by now.”

He chuckled, crossing the kitchen to press a quick kiss on my cheek. The casual intimacy of that gesture—not something he’d ever done before—sent a shiver down my spine. He peeked into the saucepan. “What’s on the menu tonight, Chef?”

“Homemade gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce with fresh peas. And don’t you dare imply that my new job is influencing my cooking. I’ll have you know I’ve been perfecting this recipe for years.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Marnin raised his hands in mock surrender. “Though I’m impressed you still have the energy to cook after a long day in a professional kitchen.”

I turned back to the stove, giving the sauce a final stir. “Well, I wanted to do something special to thank you. For everything.” My voice softened. “You’ve been so generous, letting me stay here while I get back on my feet.”

Marnin’s hand settled on my lower back, warm and reassuring. “You don’t need to thank me, Ennio. I’m glad you’re okay.”

I leaned into his touch, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability. “Still. It means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Classic Marnin, always so uncomfortable with praise. Shaking off the sentimental mood, I gestured dramatically toward the dining table. “Now, sit! Your gourmet meal awaits.”

I plated the food with care. The pillowy gnocchi nestled in a pool of creamy sauce made my mouth water and the peas were beautifully tender and a vibrant green. A twig of fresh parsley finished it off.

“Ta-da!” I announced, setting the plates down with a flourish. “Prepare your taste buds for ecstasy.”

Marnin raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a promise. I hope you can deliver.”

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