Page 155 of A Very Merry Enemy
Lucas pulls a dish from the oven and my mouth actually waters. He made chicken parmesan with pasta and garlic bread. It was the first meal he ever cooked for me.
“I love this,” I say, my throat tight.
“You haven’t even tasted it yet. Could suck.” He plates the food and sets it in front of me. “Now eat. Lumberjack orders.”
I snicker. “There’s something else you have that I want to eat.”
“Oh, babe. There will be plenty of time for that. But I’m taking care of you first.” Lucas shoots me a wink.
I laugh, actually laugh, for the first time all day. He grins at me, clearly pleased with himself, and sits beside me with a plate piled high.
I take a bite, and it’s pure perfection. The chicken is crispyand the cheese is perfectly melted where it’s still gooey. The marinara is tangy, and I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.
“Well?” he asks.
“So damn good. Like, wow.”
“That YouTube video was a winner.” His eyes are warm on mine.
We eat in comfortable silence, and I feel the tension from the day starting to drain away. With Lucas, I don’t have to be perfect. I don’t have to perform. I can just be myself.
“So,” he says, stealing another piece of garlic bread off the stove. “You nervous about tomorrow?”
“Terrified,” I tell him as he returns back to me.
“That means you care.” He takes a bite. “Nothing to worry about. I’ll be right there with you. Just promise me you’ll have fun.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then I’ll quit tomorrow morning. This isn’t worth it, Peaches.” His voice is firm.
“Please do not do that,” I say.
He smiles. “Then promise me you’lltryto have fun. It’s going to be me and you. My entire family will be watching and cheering us on—your fan club in the audience. We’ve always wanted to do this together, and I know how important this is to you, but I don’t want you to give Dominic any power over us. Don’t let him ruin something that could be a special moment for us. You know?”
Something in my chest loosens. “I promise I’ll try to have fun.”
He takes my hand in his and kisses it. “That’s my stubborn girl.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. We finish dinner and he takes our plates to the sink. I move to help, but he shoos me away.
“Go sit by the fireplace.”
“Lucas—”
“Please?” He grabs a glass from the cabinet and pours me a glass of wine. “Relax for me.”
“Okay,” I say. I sink into the couch with a sweet red vintage. The fire is already going, crackling and warm. I curl up against the cushions and stare at the flames. For the first time all week, I feel like I can actually breathe.
A few minutes later, Lucas joins me with his own glass of wine and the bottle. He sits close enough that our thighs touch.
“Thank you,” I say. “For this. For making me eat. For making me laugh. For just…being you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for being you, too.” He clinks his glass against mine. “A toast to kicking ass. To the beginning of us.”
“To us,” I say, knowing nothing else on that list matters as much to me.
We drink, and the wine is warm going down. Lucas shifts and pulls me against his side, his arm around my shoulders. I rest my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
