Thanksgiving in the Kemp household was always a big affair. Harvest time was over and everyone could relax and enjoy the start of the holiday season. Of course, Aiden hadn’t done much relaxing. His day was spent alongside his mother in the kitchen. It had been wonderful to cook with her again, though she still got frustrated with him when he tried to take over the meal. It was difficult taking a backseat when it came to meal prep, but if anyone could get him to do it, it was his mom.
While he was busy in the kitchen, his brothers were doing anything but volunteering to be his sous chef. Beckett snuggled on the couch with Willa, watching her more than he watched the football game his dad had put on the television. Travis and Felix played poker at the little table near the window. Nate joined in as well, though he spent more time complaining about the town newsletter than he did paying attention to his hand. Aiden wondered if losing a few hundred dollars would get him to shut up, but he doubted it.
Once dinner was served, the boys descended upon the table like a pack of wild dogs, Willa and his dad bringing up the rear and shaking their heads at the display. Conversation centered on the upcoming Christmas season and what that might look like for everyone. Aiden spoke with Felix about offering his cider at the restaurant as well as possibly using it in a dish or two, and his little brother had looked so blown away by the idea of Aiden supporting his business that he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Nic had mentioned that saying “thank you” seemed out of character for him, and apparently telling his brother’s he was proud of them was too.
Wanting to do better, Aiden had pulled each of them aside and told them what a great job they’d been doing as a firefighter, taking care of the farm, being mayor of their small town, and running a business. Each and every one of them had looked at him bug-eyed before pulling him into a tight hug, eliciting a smile from him and jackass comments from them about not remembering he had any teeth. It was a great day, but it would have been even better with Nic there.
Luckily, she was due back sometime today. He wanted to pick her up at the airport, but she insisted on surprising him. Aiden didn’t love surprises, but they were growing on him as long as she was the perpetrator. In the meantime, he was doing everything he could to keep himself busy while he waited for her to arrive.
Currently, he walked the inside of his restaurant. Now that the space was mostly finished, it was time for him to make choices about furniture, table settings, and a million other tiny details he didn’t want to deal with. Piles of fabric books and supply magazines lay out across the bar, staring at Aiden and daring him to make some decisions, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Somewhere along the journey to getting the restaurant put together, he started to think of it not ashisso much as he didtheirs.What linens would Nic think were best, which silverware would she think went with the dishes he’d chosen to showcase his menu?
There was so much to consider, but all he could think about at the moment was her and how wonderful it would feel to have her in his arms again, in his life again. It felt like Aiden had hit pause while she was gone, and while he knew he was more than capable of functioning without her, he didn’twantto. He wanted her there for everything, for the simple things like brushing their teeth next to each other in the morning and for the more complicated, like finally having a talk about what exactly they were doing.
As if by some silent agreement, they had avoided the subject, choosing to live in the moment instead. It was something Nic was used to doing, but not him. There was something freeing about not having to define every little aspect of their relationship, but there was also a big problem that Aiden knew they would have to face eventually.
Through all the building of his restaurant, he’d continued to teach Nic how to cook, or attempted to anyway. Unfortunately, it seemed that for every two steps she took forward, she took another five back. Her skills weren’t as tragic as they had been in the beginning, but they were still nowhere near what Aiden would call restaurant ready. The biggest problem of all was that she just didn’t seem passionate about the food. About learning to cook? Yes, she had more desire than half the chefs he’d known, but when it came to the food, she was only interested in the outcome, not the process.
Ironically, Aiden had been accused and found guilty of doing the exact same thing. Creating food with no soul wasn’t a foreign concept to him, and he likely had at times when it wasn’t his own menu he was producing, but most days, he felt keenly aware of just how much love he poured into the dishes. Every tool was an extension of himself, each ingredient carefully selected to provide the ideal experience for the diner. Food was a love language, and he might not love the strangers who would dine in his restaurants, but he loved the idea of giving them something special, something that could fill an empty space in their heart even if only for a brief moment.
Food was how Aiden presented himself to the world, how he felt a part of something larger and more profound. It was also how he found enjoyment in life, even more now that Nic was doing it with him, but it wasn’t the same for her. Aiden wanted to prove himself, but food was more than that to him. For Nic, cooking seemed toonlybe about proving herself to her father, and he knew that was the reason why she continued to struggle.
A noise coming from the front door drew his attention there, and despite the turmoil in his head, a wide smile came across his face. “You’re back.”
Aiden was stating the obvious for Nic stood in the entry of the restaurant looking as beautiful as ever in her soft yellow sweater and black leggings. Her eyes were bright, though the closer she got, Aiden could see the shadows beneath them as well as the slight downturn of her mouth. She looked tired and a little sad. Before she had a chance to say anything, he drew her into his arms, clutching her to his chest.
Her springtime scent comforted and settled him for the first time since her plane took flight. “I missed you.”
Nic’s petite frame pressed further into him, the movement shrinking the hollow ache in his chest. “I missed you too. So much,” she whispered. Her hands teased at the hair at the back of his head before she drew him down for a kiss.
Aiden nearly sobbed with relief at getting to feel and taste her again. His hands roamed her body while their mouths came together. Her lips were soft, pillowy and sweet, like beignets fresh from the fryer and dusted with powdered sugar. Everything about the kiss, about the feel of her body against his was like coming home, to no home he’d ever known before but wanted to remain at permanently. It was comforting and familiar, new and exciting, and above all else, something he knew he could no longer live without.
Reluctantly, he pulled back, smiling internally at the dazed look in her eyes that likely matched his own. Aiden smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks, tracing under the faint purple shadows under her brown eyes. “How was your trip?”
Nic seemed to age five years with just that one question, shrugging before she rested her head against his chest. “It was okay. Fine, I guess.” She wrapped her arms around him again and shimmied against his body. “I’d rather talk about your holiday.” Aiden shook his head, not wanting to press her on it but also feeling the fiercest urge to soothe her and make everything better. Giving her the time she needed, he filled her in on his time with his family, including his newly formed partnership with his brother. “That’s amazing, Aiden. I bet Felix was so happy.”
“He was,” Aiden admitted. Seeing his little brother light up with joy was by far the best result of their partnership, but he wanted to get back to her. Clearing his throat, Aiden steered her toward one of the window boxes that faced out to the river. Lifting her hands to his mouth, he placed a kiss there before resting them in his lap. “What I want to know is why you don’t look happy. Will you tell me?”
Nicole pasted on a smile he could tell was fake from even the farthest distance. “I am happy, happy to be back here with you.” Aiden speared her with a look, causing her to sigh as she leaned her head against the glass and gazed outside. “Ugh. I’m not sure why I expected this holiday to be different from any others, but I suppose I thought that with me training and everything, we would be closer.” Her eyes were sad and shining with moisture when she faced him again. “We weren’t. It was like it always is, a house full of people who work for or with my dad, him cooking in the kitchen with a bunch of other famous chefs and not having room for me in there.” Her shoulder bobbed slowly as she blinked away her tears. Hearing her pain, witnessing it firsthand had Aiden’s hands balling into fists, anger on her behalf flooding his system. “It’s so dumb. I mean, I’m twenty-five. You would think I wouldn’t care so much about what my dad thinks.”
Aiden pulled her into his lap and held Nic as her body shuddered with grief and hurt. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Angel.” The endearment spilled out automatically. That’s what she had always seemed like and had since become to him, his angel. Nic sniffled, cuddling closer like she wanted to crawl into his chest. He would gladly let her, especially if it meant she was safe from ever having to feel this kind of pain again.
“I think we’re programmed to always want our parents’ approval. That’s why it hurts so badly when we don’t get it.” Aiden had the approval of his parents and had since a young age. It completed him in a way he couldn’t really put into words, and he wished more than anything that he could transfer even a small drop of that feeling over to her. Sadly, things didn’t work that way either.
Nicole nodded against him, his hands finding their way to the back of her neck to rub it. The gesture wouldn’t relieve her pain, but he couldn’t sit there and do nothing. She leaned into the touch, making him feel the slightest bit better about being able to help her in that small way.
After another moment, she peered up at him, looking relieved. “Thank you.” She kissed his chin, a silly yet sweet gesture she’d started not long after they began sleeping together. “Now, take me around this gorgeous place and help me take my mind off things.” His dick stirred at the idea of really taking her mind off things, but he held himself back. She needed comfort, not his cock.
Aiden stood, keeping her in his arms, cradling her as he walked. Nic laughed and slapped playfully at his chest, but she didn’t protest, merely wrapping her arms around his neck and sighing happily as he told her about everything that had been accomplished in the few days she’d been gone. After touring the small second floor that was really more of an elongated balcony with enough room for a few two tops, he showed her the offices, the bathrooms, and the kitchen before ending at the bar that had been her brainchild.
Setting her down, Aiden watched as she marveled over the marble, stepping behind the bar and running her hands over the top. “This is amazing,” she said. Her eyes lit up as she continued to explore it, pretending to mix fancy cocktails like out of some movie. “It almost makes me wish I was a mixologist.”
Aiden chuckled, leaning against the hard surface. “I’m not sure we could afford to replace all the broken glasses.”
Nic stopped mid cocktail shake and glared at him, though her eyes and lips were smiling. “Rude,” she pouted. Abandoning her imaginary drinks, she stepped up next to him and gestured at the flip books. “What are these?”
“Oh.” Aiden opened the one with linen samples and slid it in front of her. “I was actually hoping you would help me with some of this.” He pointed out the list of items he needed to order, and quickly if they were going to be able to have a soft open in January.
Nicole scanned the list, her eyes growing brighter with each line she read. “You really want to know what I think?” Aiden scowled, offended that she would think her opinion unimportant, especially to him, but before he could voice that, she held up a hand and jogged over to her purse. “Forget I asked,” she said, handing him a bag of trail mix. “I shouldn’t have questioned you like that when you’re at a three out of five on the hangry scale.”