Page 49 of Pitcher Perfect

Or purred?His voice a definite change.Or is that wishful thinking?I nearly choked on my spit as I swallowed.

He joined me in the kitchen and began cleaning my pans by hand and even grabbed the correct sponge as though he’d taken notice of me doing it earlier and wanted to take care of my cooking tools. It was comfortable to share the space with him in a way that left a hollow ache in my chest. We were dancing around each other, but I didn’t know what to do about it. It felt like things were shifting between us.

“Have you worked things out with Mabel?” Austin handed me my dried saucepan.

“We did. She’s talked me into doing mini quiches. Good thing I’m a wizard with eggs.”

Austin laughed. “She’s very convincing.”

We chatted about some of his run-ins with Mabel while we cleaned up. After we finished, he leaned back against my counter and sipped his beer. He looked sofucking goodin my kitchen. I wanted him there regularly. I wanted to cook for him, cookwithhim, pretend like we were watching shows but make out on the couch. I wanted to get to know him and take care of him.

The alarm in the back of my mind sounded, the one that went off when I began to fall for someone who might take more than they gave. I didn’t know how to trust myself with that any longer. After a run of boyfriends who’d taken advantage of my kindness, I had no idea how to find a true partner.But what if Austin is different?I couldn’t remember the last time I cooked for a guy and they jumped up to help clean.

“You moved the cookbooks.” Austin straightened from the counter and walked over to my bookshelf.

Shit.I didn’t want him to notice that. “I did.”

His posture was tense. “Why?”

It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the energy rolling off him had me questioning the decision.Trying to take care of him,the nasty voice in my head accused.

I downed the last inch of my beer then met Austin’s stare. Time for honesty. “I want you to feel comfortable here, and I didn’t think seeing a reminder of the pain your dad put you through was worth keeping them visible. I didn’t throw them away or anything.”

Austin seemed to process the words, frowning, then he visibly relaxed. “You don’t need to do that,” he said softly.

“Okay. I can put them back. I’m sorry.” It had been too much, too familiar.

Austin’s mouth curved from a straight line to a half smile. “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m used to seeing reminders of him. Once I know where they are, anyway. There’s practically a shrine to him at city hall.” His eyebrows pinched again. “I mean, thank you. That was considerate, but I don’t want you hiding part of yourself for my sake. I can understand why he was important to you, and I can separate the admirable chef from the terrible father. When I see those books, I don’t see my dad. I see a famous chef who’s traveled the world making a successful career.”

My heart shattered into a thousand pieces as I pulled the books from a cupboard and put them back on the bookshelf. I hated that anyone had ever made Austin feel less than worth everything. Austin smiled and sat on my couch. I liked seeing him there too.

“As much as I’m upset with my parents for not being there for me, I’m glad the career he chose has brought joy to people. I think it would hurt worse if my parents left me but didn’t do anything special.”

I sat next to him. “Was it abrupt? Your parents leaving?”

He shifted so we faced each other. “Not really. My mom is from here—Ty’s mom, Aunt Carolyn, is her sister—and my parents decided to move here from Eugene when I was little to be closer to her family. His family was never around. My dad opened a restaurant in town and did some public access stuff in Portland, which was the beginning of his popularity. He started doing bits on a Portland morning show, and eventually, an investor in Portland approached him about opening a restaurant there.”

Henry still owned a restaurant in Portland, but my understanding was that he was only involved in name. He had several restaurants nationally, among other projects, to keep him busy.

“My dad jumped at that opportunity. Why run a small place in Dahlia Springs when you can have a fancy place in Portland?”

I initially bristled at the comment since running a small place in Dahlia Springs was exactly what I wanted to do, but the bitterness in his tone pulled me back from that ledge. “He just picked up and moved? What about your mom?”

Austin looked down at his hands while they picked at a thread on the inseam of his jeans.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m being nosy.”

Austin shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I want you to know. We’re friends, right?”

The hopeful look in his eyes melted away my last defenses. He didn’t say it like he was setting a boundary with me but hoping I would confirm he was as important to me as I was to him, that what was growing between us mattered.

“Absolutely.” I smiled.

He took a deep breath. “The investor had some other properties and let my dad crash in a condo so he wouldn’t have to make the drive from here every day. Soon, he was only coming home one or two nights a week while I lived with my mom here. I thought Mom and I would move in with him.” He let out a hollow laugh. “Ty and I used to talk about all the cool things we’d do when he visited me there.” He shook his head sadly.

My heart cleaved in two for what little Austin went through. I stayed silent, letting him share whatever he wanted to, but I needed to reassure him. I cupped his shoulder and squeezed. He reacted with a small smile, so I left my hand there.

“Instead of that, my mom began leaving me with Tyler’s family on the weekends so she could go stay with my dad. I think she loved the popularity of being the wife of Portland’s hottest chef because she got to go to parties and big events. I remember being jealous she got to go to a party my dad cooked at for the Trailblazers. The small-town girl had a chance to live it up in the big city.”

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