“Perfect. I’ll leave you to it, then. Feel free to start drawing up plans. I’m heading back home. Have fun and make it great.” My dad claps me on the back and heads right out the door, leaving me completely stunned.
Silence fills the warehouse. Without a word, Eve starts walking around, checking out the space, as Eric and I stand there, facing each other. The tension is thick between us—tension from the past, from what’s been said, from why he’s here, why Eve’s here.
I need answers, and now.
“What the hell just happened?” I ask.
“I decided to join you,” Eric answers, rocking back on his heels as if it’s the easiest decision he’s ever made.
“That would have been great to know before you went and spoke with my dad. Who says I want to do this now?”
“Don’t be a dick, Reid. You know you want to be a part of this.”
No . . . sort of . . . okay, maybe.
“I really don’t fucking know, actually.” I push my hand through my hair. “I don’t know if I want to be back in the kitchen. And when the fuck did Eve get involved?”
At the mention of her name, she whips around, her face a mask of rage. Well, there we go. This just confirms what I already suspected: I have a spot on her shit list.
“I don’t want to fail again, so I want to do this with someone I trust,” Eric says.
“You don’t trust me?” I ask incredulously.
“I don’t trust either of us with the business side, and your dad was going to hire someone new to manage everything. So I suggested Eve. Because if anything, I know she’s not going to fuck me over. She’s just as invested in this as I am.”
“Well, I’m glad you two figured everything out because I’m having a hell of a time wrapping my head around this. Do you really think it’s a good idea for all of us to go into business together? Did my dad?”
“You thought it was fine going into business with just Eric and your dad,” Eve says, walking back over to us. “That’s why you went to Boston, right? To get him on board?” Shit. “So why does adding me to the mix make everything so hard to understand?”
For one, I’m fucking you.
Two . . . we’re dating.
Three . . . I like you too goddamn much to let this restaurant come between us.
But I don’t say that.
Instead, I say, “It just seems . . . complicated. That’s all.”
“Well, it isn’t,” Eve shoots back. “You two take care of the menu and the design, and I’ll handle the business. Simple. We’ll stay out of each other’s way so things don’t get too confusing for you, Reid.”
Shit, she’s mad. Really fucking mad. Make that place number one on Eve’s official shit list.
“It’ll be good,” Eric says, the happiness palpable in his voice. “I have so many recipes rolling around in my head—and the desserts, we could have an entire dessert bar. A make your own hot chocolate menu for the kids and design your own beer for the adults.” Always the dreamer—this is the Eric I used to be friends with. He’s transformed into a completely different man since I talked to him in Boston. What fucking jolly pole got stuck up his ass, and can he tell me where to find one? “I have to head back to Boston and quit, pack my things and whatnot. I can stay on your couch—right, sis?” That won’t make things even more uncomfortable.
“Of course,” she says.
“Awesome.” He gives Eve a quick hug. “I’m heading out. I’ll be back for the design meeting tomorrow, and then, Reid, let’s start working up a menu. I’ll think of some ideas. See you tomorrow.” That’s it? No hashing out our problems, our trust issues, all the shitty things we’ve said to each other? He’s just going to act like everything is fine and fucking dandy between us? He strides away and, with a wave, shuts the door behind him, leaving me alone with a not-so-happy-looking Eve.
“Eve—”
“Don’t, Reid.” She holds up her hand. “Just don’t.” She starts for the door, but I stop her, gripping her wrist at her side. She glances down at my hand and then back up to me. “Let go.”
“I’m sorry, Eve. I’m really fucking sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” She faces me now, our bodies so close that I can practically feel the anger rolling off of her. “Sorry for lying to me? For not trusting me? For insulting me and my ability to add something valuable to this project?”
Well, that pretty much sums it up. I’ve dug myself quite a hole, and honestly, I have no idea how to fix it besides apologizing.
“I’m sorry for everything. I really am. I just don’t do relationships, and I’ve never been good at them.” Not my best apology, but I’ve certainly had worse.
“You don’t need to be an expert dater, Reid. You just need to be a decent human being. Ignoring me, pushing me aside, not trusting me with what you’re going through . . . that’s not the kind of man I want to be with.”
“I know, and fuck . . . you deserve better. So much better, Eve.”
“I do. I want someone who’s going to stand next to me, hold my hand, be a partner in life.” She shakes her head, disappointment bleeding into the gesture. “What do you even want from this?” She motions between the two of us. “What do you want from me?”
“I . . .” I push my hand through my hair. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“This is all new to me, Eve.”
“Don’t.” She waves her hand, clearing the space between us. “Don’t keep using that excuse. That you don’t do relationships. Jumping into this, you knew what we were getting into; you knew what I wanted from you. We talked about it. Well, now it’s time to get real. What do you want from me?”
Her eyes bore into me, waiting for an answer as her arms cross over her chest. The empty space fills with tension. If I want this woman in my life—which I know I do—I’m going to need to man up.
“I want you, Eve.” My tongue swipes across my dry lips. “I want you.”
She looks out toward the harbor. On bated breath, I wait for her to say something, anything, to ease the nerves rolling in my stomach.
Finally, she turns back to me, a firm expression etched on her face. “And I want you, Reid.” She can’t be serious—after everything I’ve said, after everything I’ve done? My shoulders slump as relief washes over me. She jabs a finger at my chest. “But I want you to be better with me. Do you want that? Do you want this?”
More than I think she’ll ever know.
I nod and pull her even closer, pressing my hand against her cheek. “I want you, Eve, and I don’t want to lose what we have, but it’s about to get a whole lot more complicated. Eric is going to be living with you. We’re all going to be working together, and he doesn’t even know about us.”
“We can make it work. I just need you to want to work at it, to trust me and tell me things. No more hiding.” She presses her hand to my heart. “Let me be a part of your life and everything about it. Please don’t keep me in the dark.”
She still wants me. How is that even possible? Eve Roberts is a goddamn saint; any other woman at this point would have flipped me the bird and walked away. But there is patience in Eve, patience for me and for the relationship that’s blooming between us.
I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to the top of her head as relief floods my body. “I don’t know why you like me—or how I could snag you—but what I do know is I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re lucky I’m crazy desperate.” She laughs. “There aren’t many choices in Port Snow.”
A low laugh rumbles through my chest.
“Are you saying I’m the best choice out of the worst pickings?”
“Pretty much.” She stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my chin. “Just promise you’ll talk to me, Reid. Promise me.”
“I will,” I say, grateful for this incredibly understanding woman. “Just continue to be patient with me because I’m bound to keep fucking up.”
“Just remember to get me
walnut fudge every time you screw up.”
“Done.” I press another kiss to her lips. “Will you come over tonight? We can talk about how we’re going to make this work.”
“Will you be naked?”
“With my legs spread.” I wink, making her laugh.
“Fine, but you’re required to make me dinner. You’re a chef, after all, and you need to dust off those knives.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
She shrugs and pulls away. “Naked, legs spread, and a homemade meal. I think you can handle it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
REID
“I can’t believe you’re really naked.”
“Not naked.” I tug on the strings of my apron. “I have this fella on.” And thank God, because my spaghetti sauce has already splattered, and I can’t imagine what that would have felt like on my sensitive man skin.
“Your entire ass is on display.”
“Would you rather I wear it like a cape so you can see the frontal goods while you eat?”
She laughs and sips from the wine I poured her the minute she got here. “I don’t know which is worse.”
“You mean which is better, babe. Which is better.” I wink and finish plating the dishes with a small garnish, adding some green to the overall appearance. I wipe the sides, making sure the presentation is on point, and then I bring dinner over to my girl.
Not going to lie, I stumbled a bit around the kitchen while making dinner. I made some mistakes, simple errors, but since it’s been three years since I’ve actually cooked something, I was kind to myself.
It felt good, though—odd but good.
“Spaghetti and meatballs.” Eve glances up at me with a smile. “You remembered my favorite meal.”
I sit down in my chair, the cold wood surface making my balls want to retract up into my body. “I remember everything about you, Eve.”
She glances over her wineglass. “You make it seem like you’ve liked me for a long time.”
“Just doing a little bit of flirting,” I say instead of admitting to my almost-lifetime crush. “Trying to prove that I can be the man you deserve.”
Her features soften as she reaches out and rubs her thumb over the back of my hand. “I know you are.” I bring her hand to my lips and give it a gentle kiss before picking up my fork. I feel her eyes on me for a few seconds longer, studying me. “How did it feel, cooking again?” she asks.
“Different, good, weird. To be honest, I stood in front of the ingredients for a while, asking myself if I could do it, revisit something I haven’t done in so long.”
“Were you naked while you stared at the ingredients?”
“Of course.” She laughs, and I can’t resist adding, “Those meatballs might be a little jealous, having my balls to compare themselves to.”
“Oh my God, what is wrong with you?”
“I tried to do mirror images for you, but I’m out of practice. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll get it right one day, and you can finally say you’ve had my balls in your mouth.”
She shakes her head and takes a bite, her eyes fluttering shut before she smiles. “You know, you are the biggest pervert I know, but damn it, Reid, you are such a freaking good cook.”
I glance down at my plate. “You don’t have to go over the top with the compliments. I’m going to do the restaurant.”
“I’m not going over the top. I wouldn’t do that. You know I tell the truth, and right now, the flavors that are exploding in my mouth are pure magic. One bite—that’s all I need to know that you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing: cooking.”
“That means a lot, Eve. Thank you.” I sit back in my chair and let out a long breath. “Fuck, I’m feeling emotional, and I don’t want to look like a tool bag in front of you.”
“You don’t want to cry in front of me—is that what you’re saying?”
“Yeah, and I sure as hell don’t want to cry while naked either. It would be way too much of a vulnerable moment for me.”
She pushes her chair out, and coming to my side of the table, she sits on my lap and loops her arms around my neck.
“Be emotional with me; tell me what you’re feeling, how it made you feel to be in front of the stove again. I want to know all of it.”
This is what she wants: the truth, the vulnerability. And even though I’m not the type of guy who divulges shit like that, I need to show her this side of me and show her just how desperate I am to keep her in my life.
“I hate myself—that’s what it comes down to.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, a crease to her brow. “Why do you hate yourself?”
“Because the last few hours have been some of the best hours of my life over the past few years, you excluded.” She smiles. “Yeah, I stumbled around—I fucked up on the pasta a few times, had to remake the dough—and I was a dipshit and forgot the egg in the meatballs at first, but I felt energized. I couldn’t stop smiling. Tasting, testing, challenging myself to push for the flavors I developed so many years ago. Perfecting every last inch of the plate. It was like finding my home again.”
“Then why do you hate yourself?”
“Because the happiness I thought I’d lost has been right in front of me this whole time, but I was too much of a stubborn ass to realize it—or to give in. I thought that if I never cooked again, I would be doing the world a service, but in reality, I was slowly eating away at my soul.” My throat tightens. “I fucking missed this, Eve, and I honestly can’t believe I’m getting another chance at my dream.”
She cups my cheeks, and those hazel eyes bore into me. “You are bound to do great things, Reid. I know you don’t want to hear this, but sometimes we face adversity so we are directed down a different path. The town may be thriving, but it still needs you. It needs Eric, and it needs your flavors. Your dad has a vision, and you’re helping make that come true. You’re giving him one of the greatest gifts you could ever give him by making the restaurant real. You need to realize that this isn’t just for you. This is also for him. This is for Eric . . . this is for me. The dream may have crumbled the first time, but we’re dusting ourselves off, and we’re moving forward.”
My hand moves up to the nape of her neck as I rub my thumb across her skin. “This really matters to you.”
She nods. “More than you know. I gave everything up so Eric could pursue his dreams. I stayed back and cared for our parents, I put my schooling on hold, I put my life on pause. And slowly, I’ve built myself up, I’ve educated myself, I’ve worked my ass off at the Inn so that one day I could go back to Eric and tell him I was ready to pursue the dream we had. That’s what it was supposed to be all along: me managing his restaurant. But I gave that up for our parents. Now that the chance is here, I’m not going to let go of it.”
“Shit, Eve. You never told me that. Eric never said anything.”
“Because I told him not to. I knew when the time came he would bring me on board. That time is now. This restaurant is so much more than an opportunity or a vision; it’s a moment in time that will define us.”
And this is why I can without a doubt say I love this woman.
I fucking love her.
Because she looks past my bullshit, my unruliness, my bastard-like tendencies and sees the good in me, the good in everything. She’s been dealt a shitty hand, and yet she pushes forward, finding the positive in every situation. It’s why she’s perfect for me, why I want her in my life . . . why I need her in my life. She lights up every aspect of my existence, and above everything else, I need her at my side.
“You amaze me, Eve Roberts.”
“You give me butterflies, Reid Knightly.” She leans forward, and as she gently presses her mouth against mine, all I can think of is the fact that she does the same for me. She gives me an onslaught of butterflies every time I get to hold her in my arms.
“Let’s go over the rules.”
“Are you serious right now?” I look down between us and then back up
. “Babe, I’m so fucking deep inside of you and ready to come. We’re not discussing rules.”
She shifts on my lap and wraps her legs around my waist, stuffing them between the couch and my back. “Then make it quick,” she says, her voice breathy.
“Literally all my blood has rushed to my cock. I don’t even know what you’re saying right now.” She rocks her hips back and forth, and I grind my teeth together. “Fuck,” I drawl out. “Eve, either move faster, or I’m taking charge.”
“Rules, Reid.”
“Eve.”
“Reid,” she says with more force.
“God damn it, woman.” I press both hands against my face. “Fuck, fine.” My balls pulse as my legs start to tingle, letting me know that my impending orgasm is right there when I’m ready to take it. “No kissing in front of Eric.”
“That’s a terribly obvious rule.”
“Blood to the cock, babe. Blood to the cock.”
“Ugh, men.” She moves her hands to her breasts and starts tweaking her nipples. Her head falls back, and fucking hell, that’s all it takes for me. Screw the rules: I need to finish this.
I grab ahold of her hips and start to vigorously pump up and down. Her surprised gasp turns into a moan as she falls forward and holds onto my shoulders.
I move both of our hips until her pussy clenches around my length, and she screams out my name. I follow closely behind, my cock swelling right before I come inside of her. There is seriously nothing better than filling her up and watching her mindlessly thrash in passion.
When her hips slow down, she flips her head up and pushes her hair out of her face. “That wasn’t fair—we were talking.”
“You were . . . torturing,” I say, still trying to catch my breath. “If you want to talk about rules now, fine.”
“You can’t always get your way, you know. It’s not fair.”
“And when your pussy is pulsing around my dick, snuggling in so damn tight that I’m about to blow my load, I will always take what I want. And that’s you.”
“Fine.” A small smile curls her lips. “Let’s talk rules. This might not be the most mature way to handle things, but given the abrupt appearance of Eric, I think it might be the best way to handle our relationship around him. I want to be respectful to him, but I also don’t want to bombard him with what we have between us. So, no PDA in front of Eric, no secret smiles, no touching, and no inside jokes. Keep it professional, and no grabbing my boobs in front of him.”
That Secret Crush Page 19