Page 5 of From the Ashes

“Want to go out for dinner?” I ask him casually as he packs up, slinging his arm over my shoulder as we walk back to his Impala.

Cain nods, leaning in and kissing my head as he places my laptop and blanket in the trunk of his car.

We jump in to escape the cold, then he drives to a nearby restaurant. When we arrive, I slide out, following closely behind him as he takes my hand.

A waiter leads us toward a table once inside.

“So this place is nice,” I say as Cain holds out my chair for me to sit.

Unlike the last restaurant in New Orleans where he used to go with his parents—the one with the old-world charm and charisma—this one is more modern, like something you’d see in a five-star hotel. Everything is white and marble with stainless steel, and it appears so clean I’m sure you could eat off the floor.

“Yeah, I’ve heard great things about it, so I thought we should try it out. What would you like to drink?”

Shrugging, I pick the first thing that comes to mind. “Red wine would be nice.”

Cain grins at the waiter. “A bottle of your most expensive. Make sure it’s vintage,” Cain relays to the waiter dismissively.

Creasing my brow at his abrasiveness, the waiter nods, walking off. “Cain, you could be a little nicer to the guy. I mean, he is serving us. You don’t want him to spit in our food,” I whisper.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “He’ll deal with it. If he doesn’t… I’ll break his legs.” He beams with a wicked smirk.

“Cain—”

“I’m joking, Makaylie. Okay, I’ll play nice with the friendly waiter, but only for you,” he replies, and I shake my head. At least it’s one step in the right direction.

The waiter returns with a bottle of expensive-looking red, pouring me a glass. The full-bodied garnet hue flows down the sides of the glass, dripping in rivulets like a flowing river as it fills halfway up the beautiful glass.

It’s almost hypnotizing in a way.

I smile in a gesture of thanks as he moves to fill Cain’s, but Cain quickly places his hand over the glass to stop him, indicating he doesn’t want any. Somehow, I forgot that Cain doesn’t drink.

My eyes open wide, and I gasp in horror at my actions. “Oh, fuck! I’m sorry, Cain. I didn’t think. Oh, God! Waiter, please take this away—”

“No, leave it. Thank you. That is all,” Cain says to the confused waiter, who places the bottle on the table, then walks away.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t think—”

“Stop! It’s fine. Just because I don’t drink anymore doesn’t mean you have to avoid it in front of me.”

“But I feel bad. Doesn’t it remind you of…” I pause, stopping myself from bringing up his parents and their untimely deaths due to his drinking and driving.

He smiles, shifting my glass toward me. “I want you to enjoy yourself, to be able to relax in front of me. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me because of my past. That’s part of why I didn’t tell you about it. So let me buy you nice things without you being negative toward them. I want to spoil you. Expensive wine is only the beginning. So drink and enjoy. I won’t have you missing out because of me.”

Sighing, I scrunch up my nose, making Cain chuckle. “Okay, but—”

“No buts, Makaylie. Bottoms up.”

Lifting the glass of wine, I take a sip. The bitterness dances along my taste buds as it slides down my throat, soothing my nerves. It sure as hell tastes expensive. The waiter comes back with menus and places them in front of us.

“Wow!” I murmur, looking over everything.

“I know. They have a great selection,” Cain replies while the waiter waits patiently.

“No, I mean…wow.” I look past the menu to Cain, lowering my voice. “At the price.”

Cain scoffs as the waiter turns his nose up at me like I don’t belong, which I don’t. My cheeks flush as I hide behind my menu, embarrassed that he heard me even though I tried to lower my voice.

“Makaylie will have the salmon a la lemoné, and I will have the prime beef medallion, medium, and the profiterole cascade for dessert to share. Thank you,” Cain orders, folding up his menu and waving his hand for the waiter to leave.

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