Page 87 of Taming Georgia

“Dinner is served.” He sets the tray down on her lap and kisses the top of her head.

“Looks and smells delicious.” Ethel grins.

Wyatt and I sit with our plates on the sofa next to her, and the three of us start eating. I almost gag on my first bite. The lemon flavor is so strong that I feel the tart fumes shoot through my nostrils. I place the back of my hand to my mouth and swallow hard, reaching for my glass of water to wash it down. I turn to look at Wyatt and Ethel and gauge their reactions. They’re both silent. Their lips are pressed in a line, and their faces are scrunched up.

“It’s so bad,” I say with a chuckle.

“Horrible. God-awful,” Wyatt agrees.

“It could be better,” Ethel says in a kind voice.

I throw my head back in laughter, and Wyatt and Ethel laugh hard along with me. I can’t believe we just spent hours making something that tastes so horrible.

“Did we zest the lemon peel or just chop up the whole thing and throw it in there? The aftertaste of the rind is vile,” I say, raising my eyebrows and looking to the others.

“I don’t know, but we shouldn’t be allowed in the kitchen anymore,” Wyatt states.

“Agreed, but we still have to feed her,” I say.

“I’m not dead. I can feed myself,” Ethel snaps.

Wyatt waves his hand. “Hush. Pet your cat.”

As if angels ascended from heaven, there’s a knock at the door, followed by Xavier’s loud voice and the smell of pure bliss.

“Hey! Hey! We come bearing gifts.” He walks into the living room with metal trays stacked in his arms.

Luciana follows behind him with big bags in hand.

“Oh my God…I love you,” I tell them both, almost squealing with happiness. Nothing is better than a friend whose family owns a restaurant, especially a Mexican one.

“Thank you so much,” Ethel tells them. “Thank your parents, Lucy. They are too kind.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Luciana replies with a tilt of her lips.

“We can’t possibly eat all of this ourselves. Wyatt, text the rest of the guys and see if any of them can make it over. Georgia, why don’t you invite your roommate to eat?”

Wyatt furrows his brow. “You just had surgery, E. I don’t think hosting a party is wise.”

Ethel scoffs, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “I’m not hosting anything. I’m going to sit here and eat. It won’t bother me a bit. I don’t want any of that food going to waste. Invite them over.”

Wyatt and I grab our phones and send our texts. Then, I take each of our plates of uneaten crap and carry them to the kitchen.

“What happened here?” Luciana asks.

“Wyatt and I attempted to make dinner.” I snicker as I dump the contents of our plates into the garbage disposal. “It didn’t go well.”

“What’s all of this?” She motions toward the piles of food on the counter.

“Ingredients to meals that will never be made.” I shake my head with a grin.

“I can make them,” she offers.

“No, we wouldn’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me. I’d love to. I enjoy cooking. I’ve been preparing dinner for my family since I was very young. It would be my pleasure, really.”

I quirk up an eyebrow. “Only if you’re absolutely sure.”

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