Page 259 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“Hey, you’re awake,” Kate says, appearing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.
I rub a hand down my face, still trying to wake up. “I am. Is Toby okay? Did Brody take him outside?”
“Lennox, actually.”
I sit up a little taller and lift a hand to my probably sleep-crazy hair. “He’s here?”
“He walked down a few hours ago, but he and Brody drove up to the restaurant to get us some lunch and they just got back. Lennox made hot chocolate earlier though. Do you want some?”
In any other circumstance, I might have asked for coffee instead, but if Lennox made the hot chocolate, I’m all in. “That sounds amazing.”
She disappears, returning moments later with a sky-blue mug with the wordsI once made a chemistry joke, but there was no reactionprinted on the side.
She holds it out to me. “The mug was a gift from one of Brody’s students.”
“Punny,” I say as I take the mug, and Kate smiles. “How do we even have something hot?” I say as I take my first sip.Oh. Oh my word.I let out a low groan. “Is this even for real?”
“Delicious, right? Brody got out his propane camp stove and set it up on the back porch.”
The hot chocolate is perfectly creamy with a hint of something on the backend that I can’t quite identify. Whatever it is, it’sabsolutely delicious. “Honestly, is there anything Lennox hasn’t perfected?” I take another sip. “What does he put in this?”
“Mascarpone cheese,” Kate says. “And nutmeg.”
As soon as she says it, I recognize the acidy sweetness of the mascarpone. But I never would have thought to add it to hot chocolate. It’s brilliant and delicious and somehow very Lennox.
I take another long sip just as the front door opens and Lennox himself steps inside, the dogs dancing around his feet. He’s wearing the same wool pea coat he had on this morning, the black fabric speckled with snow. His scarf is a deep blue, and unlike the wool one of his I’mstillcurrently wearing, this one looks handmade, like something his mother or a grandmother could have knitted for him. I watch as he unwraps it from his neck, then slips out of his coat, revealing a thermal henley the same color as his scarf. It fits him well—like it was made for him, and I . . . am paying way too much attention to Lennox’s clothes.
But how can I not? He could be a model for one of those overpriced clothing companies—the ones you want to buy from if only to make your life as serene and peaceful as all the beautiful lives they depict in their advertisements.
Charlie moseys over and plops down next to the fire, but Toby stays next to Lennox, his tail wagging as he leans his head into Lennox’s thigh. It’s Toby’s way of asking for attention, and something stretches in my heart when Lennox crouches down and gives it to him, talking to him in a ridiculous voice. “That’s a good boy, Toby-Tobers. Who’s a good boy?”
Everyone says the way to a chef’s heart is through a really good knife, and it’s true. But more true for me? The way to my heart is through my dog, and seeing Lennox like this is striking all the right chords.
I’m suddenly filled with a desire to stand up and wrap my arms around his waist, press myself against him and feel his arms circle around me. He’d probably run one of those strong handsup and down my back. He might even lift it to my hairline and tangle his fingers in my hair. Or brush his thumb across the edge of my jaw—
“Tatum?” Kate says, her voice slightly louder than normal, like she’s trying to get my attention. All at once, my brain catches up with my ears, and it occurs to me that this isn’t the first time she’s said my name.
“What? Yes? Hi. Sorry.”
She eyes me, her expression saying she knows exactly why I was distracted. “I just asked if you were hungry.”
“Oh. Sure. Absolutely. Food sounds good.”
“And Lennox asked you a question, and you didn’t even flinch,” she says, laughter dancing in her eyes.
My eyes jump to Lennox, and he lifts his shoulders in a tiny shrug. “I just asked if you’ve finally warmed up.”
“Sorry. I was . . . thinking . . . something. About something. But yes! I’m warm. So warm.” And clearly a master with words.
“Okay then,” Lennox says on a chuckle, and my cheeks flame. “I have leftover Bolognese from the restaurant, if that sounds good. Brody can boil some water on the camp stove, so we can even have pasta to go with it.”
“I’m using my jetboil,” Brody says, appearing in the entryway with all the enthusiasm of a boy scout. “Boiling water in one hundred seconds or less.”
Kate rolls her eyes. “I think he lives for power outages because he gets to use all his survival gear.”
I smile as Brody and Lennox disappear down the hall, their voices fading as the back door opens and closes.
If there is ever a zombie apocalypse, I definitely want the Hawthorne brothers on my survival team—a thought I first had early this morning while I watched the three of them, as well as Olivia’s husband Tyler, cut the splintered tree into haulable pieces and stack them on the opposite side of the parking lot.They were too bundled up against the snow for me to see any muscle in action, but it wasn’t hard to imagine it with all the heavy lifting and grunting that was happening.
