Page 88 of Whisking It All

“Not as small or quiet as Aster Bay, though.”

He chuckled. “Definitely not.”

“And you lived there your whole life?” she asked, drawing patterns in his dusting of chest hair with her fingertip.

“Until college.” He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips, then held that hand to his chest and leaned back against the quilted headboard. “By then, my brother Daemon had already moved to New York to become an actor. My parents were great, but they weren’t around much anymore. Mom traveled for work—insurance—and dad wanted to go with her more often since we were older.”

He shrugged, as though he hadn’t been so lonely he could hardly breathe most of the time, as though he hadn’t missed the days of family dinners and board game nights from when he and Daemon were children.

“I got into culinary school in Providence and it seemed like the right move,” he continued. “Far enough from home that mom and dad wouldn’t pop in unannounced, but not so far that I couldn’t go home whenever I wanted to.”

“When did you move to Aster Bay?” she asked.

“Pretty much right away. I met Ethan and Baz at orientation. Baz was giving Ethan a hard time because he’d decided not to move into the house Baz and Gavin had rented and they needed a third roommate.”

“Why didn’t he—” She stopped herself, the realization making her face fall. “Oh. For me. He didn’t move in with them for me.”

Jamie tightened his grip on her hand. “That was part of it. Your mom didn’t like the idea of you visiting him at a house he shared with a bunch of other college guys. Can’t say I blame her. You two were living with the Harts by then, anyway, and there was talk of a wedding. It made sense for him to stay there.”

“So you moved in with Gavin and Baz.”

“And the rest is history,” he said, running his thumb over the back of her hand.

“Did you always know you’d end up staying?”

“No. But after my parents died… I didn’t have a home anymore. Daemon was touring the country with some show, and I didn’t want to go back to that house alone. We sold the house and I used my half to put a down payment on my cottage. You know the rest.” He ran his free hand up her thigh, focusing on the slide of his skin over hers as he framed the question he’d been afraid to ask her for weeks. “Have you ever thought about doing something like that?”

“Buying a cottage?” she asked, an amused look of confusion wrinkling her brow.

“No. Choosing a place and making it yours.”

His heart pounded against their hands where they lay on his chest as he waited for her answer. She twined her fingers with his, keeping her palm pressed to his heart.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice soft. “Lately, I think about it all the time. Choosing a place…and a person.”

Reckless hope swelled in his chest as he surged forward and kissed her, imbuing that kiss with all the things he was afraid to hope for.

She broke away, framing his face with one hand. “But what would that even look like, Jamie?”

“It would look like this,” he said, gesturing between them. “More of this. You could keep the bakery, or you could open another one that’s not connected to the vineyard.” His pulse raced and his words tumbled over themselves in his rush to paint the picture for her, to help her see just how perfect their lives could be. “We could grow the festival into the biggest and best food and wine festival in New England. You could move into my cottage, or we could get a place of our own.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes against the images that came next—Tessa dressed in white and agreeing to be his wife, Tessa round with his child, endless Saturday mornings at the farmer’s market, waking up with his arms around her each morning and falling asleep beside her each night.

“I know it’s fast, but—”

“I like your cottage,” she said softly, her hand tangling in his hair. “What about Ethan?”

He pulled back so he could meet her eyes, so she could see that he meant every word. “I’ll tell him about us.”

“I’ve only just started to get to know Ethan, but even I know he’s not going to be okay with you and I being together.”

“Let me worry about that. If I can keep you—” He broke off, clearing his throat, and met her eyes again. “I’ll talk to Ethan.”

Her voice was small when she asked, “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then I’ll make him understand.”

Her eyes darted between his, the corners of her lips pulling down. “I was supposed to come here for a fresh start. To rebuild a relationship with my dad, not to come between him and his best friend,” she said, her voice catching.

---