As she walks away, I look behind me to see if I dropped my balls on the way in here. They must be in the parking lot.
I ordered a bunch of food off the menu to make it seem like I was a hungry tourist coming in from a long day of sightseeing and definitely not a pathetic guy who’s hoping to catch a glimpse of any men hitting on his ex.
The food at the Inn is okay. It’s not great, and it’s nothing compared to what we have planned down at Knight and Port, but for someone staying at the Inn, it’s a pretty good option.
Their biscuits are a little dry, their soup a tad salty, and their steak slightly overdone. It’s the little mistakes here and there that add up to a subpar experience at a restaurant—little mistakes I’m determined not to make at Knight and Port. It’s why Eric and I are perfecting every last recipe, why we’re making sure the construction work is inspected every night. We are building a legacy, not just a restaurant. After all, we have the Lobster Landing’s quality to live up to.
Lowering the newspaper just slightly, I peer over it and perch my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose so I can have an unobstructed view of Eve over at the bar. She’s striding around flawlessly, delivering drinks and food while chatting up every person who has a seat at her bar. She’s an absolute professional. Her work ethic is impeccable, and her drive is a huge turn-on for me. Juggling her duties at the Inn and Knight and Port until the soft opening—she’s impressive with how she’s able to accomplish everything.
Not to mention how goddamn beautiful she is. I swear she’s doing something different just to torture me, but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s not her hair or her makeup; it’s almost like her aura—as Brig would say—is different. The smile doesn’t leave her face. Is she happy without me—glad that I cut ties?
And that’s not even taking her confidence into account. She’s always been a ball buster and extremely self-assured, but this new level of confidence has brought her hot factor up to inferno levels.
Also, she’s been wearing a lot of low-cut shirts, showing off her perfect tits. She wears them a lot to Knight and Port, and she’s even wearing one now. I know I’m not the only guy here who’s watching her bend over. It makes me want to go around the restaurant with a can of wasp spray and blast any person who even glances in her direction right in the eye—teach them to never check out my girl.
Yeah, my girl.
Sure, I get it. I’m the moron who broke up with her, but for good reasons. After all, just look at Knight and Port; things couldn’t be going more smoothly, and it’s because we all know our place, we all know what we’re supposed to be doing, and there are no distractions—excluding my night incognito.
Maybe Eric was right, and our breakup was for the best—though I can’t stop wondering what life would be like if Eve and I were still together. I sure as hell wouldn’t be hanging out with my parents as much as I am right now. It’s so bad that I voluntarily sat between them last Friday night, watching A Star Is Born as they both cried, each of them clutching one of my hands. In that moment, I couldn’t believe that was what my life had come to: my parents crying on my shoulders while I listened to Lady Gaga sing.
No man wants that life.
And now, I’m dressed like a chump, peering at my ex over a table of mediocre food . . . Jesus.
I tear my gaze away and stare down at the lobster mac and cheese in front of me as I press my hand to my brow. What the hell am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t stalk women. I don’t dress up in cheesy mustaches and order subpar food just so I can pretend I’m not pining over someone.
And I sure as hell don’t download small-town gossip apps on my phone either.
I need to get—
“Reid, what are you doing here?”
Eve.
Fuck.
My body stills as my stomach drops to the floor in pure mortification. With my head still down, I say in my high-pitched voice, “No Reid here. Wrong person. I’m Cleatus. Food’s good. Thanks.” I give her a little wave and continue averting my eyes as she stands over me.
My hat is torn off my head, and when I reach for it, Eve bends down and rips off my mustache.
“Ouch,” I say, rubbing my upper lip. “I stuck that on with a glue stick.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
Looking around, trying to see who’s paying attention, I sit up and place both hands on the table after lifting my sunglasses. “Well, thanks for blowing my cover, Eve.”
“Everyone in this building knew it was you—it’s all the kitchen staff can talk about. Don’t be surprised if you’re in the newspaper tomorrow.”
Great. Real fucking great.
“You didn’t have to come over here and turn this into a grand reveal. Have a little respect for a man’s privacy.”
“Why are you here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” I wave toward the abundance of food on my table. “Scoping out the competition.” I don’t mention that the competition has nothing to do with the restaurant industry and everything to do with her heart. “And you just spoiled that. Good job, Eve.”
From the suspicious lines at the corners of her mouth, I’m guessing she doesn’t buy it.
“If that’s the case, you could have just come in and eaten food—no need for the pathetic disguise.”
She holds up the mustache that’s stuck to her finger. I quickly tear it off and stick it in my pocket. “It’s not a pathetic disguise. I thought it was creative.”
“You looked like a fool.”
“Well, since we’re no longer together, how I look isn’t your concern.”
Her lips quirk to the side. “We might not be together, but you’re my business partner, and I don’t need you scaring away customers before we even open the doors.”
“Why don’t you worry about the paperwork and the press, and I’ll worry about how I look and what we serve, huh?”
“How you look is part of my job. How you act is part of my job. Everything you do is my concern. So stop dressing up like Tom Selleck’s estranged brother who was lost out at sea for two years, and act like the five-star chef that you are.”
“Ah, you think I’m a five-star chef?”
I don’t think her eyes could roll any harder. “I’m leaving.”
“Hey,” I call out before she can get any farther. When she looks over her shoulder, I casually say, “So . . . are ya dating anyone?”
Chuckling, she shakes her head. “You’re so transparent, Reid.”
“Transparent enough that you’ll come to my place tonight and try some food?”
“No.”
Damn it.
“I can’t take it anymore,” I declare, barging through Brig’s apartment door, scaring the piss right out of the poor guy.
He jumps out of his desk chair and swears under his breath. Shirtless, with an online dating profile open on the computer behind him, he clutches his chest and lets out a long breath.
“Holy. Shit. I think I just had a heart attack.” He glances at me and laughs. “Man, I think you just jump-started my soul—I feel alive.”
“That’s great.” I wave him off and flop down on his couch. “But we need to talk about me.”
“Shocking. When are we not talking about you?” Brig turns off his monitor and joins me, taking a seat on the chair opposite me, his spread legs giving me a front-row view down his shorts.
“Dude.” I hold up my hand. “Why don’t you have underwear on?”
“Because I’m in my apartment and wasn’t expecting my older brother to come crying to me for help . . . again. You should be counting your blessings I wasn’t feeling like a naked night, because I have those. Shut the curtains, turn on some good music, and let the dong fly as I dance my ass off.”
I blink a few times.
“Please don’t tell me you actually do that.”
“I’m not ashamed. You’re not living until you feel your dick slap your legs to a good beat.”
I physically can’t take the fact that B
rig is the one I have to rely on when it comes to all this Eve crap. But Griffin, Rogan, and Jen are too close to her, and that leaves me with the helicoptering dancing queen.
“Can we focus, please? I need your advice.”
“Fine. What’s on your mind?”
I’m surprised that he gives in so quickly—I almost expected him to gloat. “Breaking up with Eve was stupid.”
Took me far too long to realize it—endless nights staring at the ceiling of the houseboat, wishing she was lying next to me, wishing I’d been at her side during her graduation party, and yearning for the excitement we could have shared over the restaurant coming together so flawlessly—all things I’ve missed, all things I wanted to share with her.
Watching her in her element, working her ass off, not letting one ball drop, it made me realize how much I doubted her, doubted what we had. I never should have listened to Eric; I never should have given in to his threats, his concerns, because all it did was fuck me in the head and make me lose out on a strong pillar that’s held me up for so long. That’s what she does: Eve lifts me up and helps me be a better man.
“Well, yes, I think the entire town knows that by now.”
“It was stupid, but there’s something you don’t know. Uh, Eric came to my house, knowing all about the relationship, and asked me to end it.”
“What?” Brig sits a little taller. “Why would he—ohhh, because of what happened with him and Janelle, huh?”
I nod. “Exactly. He was terrified of what the relationship could do—not only to a brand-new restaurant but his relationship with me, with Eve. And he didn’t want my insecurities and issues to distract Eve from her goals.”
“I can see where he’s coming from, but he never even saw you two together. You never brought her down—she stood strong, because that’s the kind of woman she is, and helped lift you up, make you better.”
“Yeah, I know.” She was the reason I had the confidence to step back into the kitchen. “I’ve been doing well handling the restaurant since we broke up, but Christ, Brig, I’ve been miserable otherwise—and spending way too much time with Mom and Dad.”
“Mom told me. Said she wept on your shoulder while watching A Star Is Born . . . on a Friday night.”
“It’s getting pathetic. I don’t want to be home because I swear I can smell her all over the houseboat, and I’m too damn afraid to run into her while she’s on a date, so I go to Mom and Dad’s. That’s not a life I want.”
“Then what kind of life do you want?”
“One with Eve.”
“Yeah?” he asks, brows raised. “What are you saying?” He clasps his hands together and leans forward. “Please, please tell me you’re going to try to get her back.”
I stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t think I have any other choice. The restaurant is smooth sailing at this point. The menu is almost done and perfected, everything has been ordered, and all the marketing is underway.” I take a deep breath, my resolve solidifying. “I understand Eric’s concerns, but you’re right: he didn’t see us together; he doesn’t know how well we work together. And if Dad thinks we can handle being together while working at Knight and Port, then that’s all the validation I need.”
“Fuck, I’m so excited. So, how are you going to do it?”
“Get her back?” I ask. Brig nods. “That’s where I need your help. When we broke up, she told me she loved me, and I pretty much destroyed that love. I think I need to build it all back up. Not just the love but the trust—”
“The friendship. That’s what you need to focus on. That’s where you two thrived, and from there, when you think you’re truly in a good place again, that’s when you make your move. Do something grand, something that will take her breath away.”
I have the perfect idea for something grand, but I’m definitely going to have to work up to it.
“Don’t doubt yourself,” Brig says, growing serious. “Remember what the palm reader said—the curse won’t be broken until your mind has matured. Understand your self-worth, what you can offer her, and allow yourself to be the man she deserves.”
Well, shit, when did he become so profound? I sit up and stare, but he just smiles and shrugs.
“I’ve done a lot of reflection, and I know you better than I think you know yourself. You’re notorious for digging yourself into a hole with all your self-doubt, and from there, you sabotage everything around you. Don’t let that happen with Eve. You messed up three years ago, but you can’t keep letting the past affect your present—learn from it instead. You’ve grown, Reid. Acknowledge that and keep moving forward. Eve is the girl for you. We all know it. Now you just have to go win her heart back.” He hops to his feet and fist pumps the air.
Jesus.
Painfully romantic antics aside, Brig has cleared away the confusion that’s been clouding my head. I might not think I’m good enough for Eve. And I still have a lot of growing up to do. But one truth rings clear through my whole being: no one is going to love her as much as I do, and I want to spend every day of my life showing her just how much that is.
I’m not going to jump right into it, though. I can’t. I need to ease her back into my life until I think she’s ready, and then . . . oh fuck, and then I’m going to blow her away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EVE
“These floors are gorgeous,” I say, running my toe along the old, refurbished hardwood, which is stained in the same light-blond color as the Lobster Landing’s. “I can’t get over how perfectly imperfect they are. And the chairs with the basket weave seats pop against the white and red. Seriously, this place is an absolute dream.” I turn to Giselle as we walk through Knight and Port and glance down at my clipboard. “What else on the list needs to get done?”
“The kitchen still has some appliances to be installed, the tiling in the bathrooms needs to be finished, and all the fixtures need to be put in, but we’re getting close. Three more weeks and we should be ready to open.”
“I seriously can’t believe how hard and fast you worked.”
She smiles. “Mr. Knightly had an opening date set for the beginning of the tourist season, and he paid to make it happen.”
“I’m so impressed. And the loft—is the office ready?”
“Almost. We’re installing a few ceiling fans up there to push around the air, and the built-in shelves are almost finished, being sanded as we speak. Construction should be done in two weeks, and then you’ll have a week to make sure everything is in place.”
“Great. Wow.” I squeeze my clipboard to my chest. “This is . . . this is just so amazing. Thanks for meeting with me, Giselle.”
“Not a problem.” She takes a look at her watch. “I have to go meet Rogan at another property. I’ll be in touch, though.”
I give her a firm handshake, and we stride out of the restaurant. But as she walks to her car, I make my way toward the general store. The weather is starting to really warm up, and we’re at the precipice of tourist season, when hordes of people come flooding into our small town for fudge, harbor tours, and the little shops up and down Main Street. The soft opening looms before us, three weeks from today, and it will be our chance to work out all the kinks. I’ve been working really hard at getting a trio of highly sought-after restaurant bloggers to come and taste the food. It’s a long shot, but if I do manage to bring them to Knight and Port, it could be a huge boost to our presence. In the restaurant world, they’re as good as the Midas touch—whatever they recommend turns into pure gold. I haven’t told any of the guys yet because I don’t want to get their hopes up, nor do I want to make them nervous, so I’m keeping it to myself until I know for sure that they’re coming.
I step into the store, which boasts a small but diverse range of groceries if you need something quick and can’t make it up to Pottsmouth. I head to the back, knowing exactly where to look for the man I’m searching out.
Standing by the ice cream case, stocking his homemade ice cream, is Oliver—han
dsome as ever, with a bit of mystery behind those dark eyes of his. I wave as I approach. He smiles and closes the cooler door. When I reach him, he pulls me into a hug. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“You said you made blueberry-buckle ice cream. I’m going to need some of that.”
“You know I don’t start selling it until five o’clock sharp.”
“Can’t you make an exception for me?”
He looks toward the cooler, considering. “I don’t know. You didn’t let me pay for dinner the other night. I’m still kind of mad about that.”
“Stop,” I say, pushing his shoulder. “You know—”
“What’s going on here?” a voice asks. There’s curiosity in that voice but an edge too. I don’t have to turn around to know exactly who it is.
Reid.
Plastering on the same fake smile I’ve learned to keep on my face whenever I’m around him, I turn. “Oh hey, Reid. How are you?”
He looks between me and Oliver, blue eyes keen. “Fine.” He wiggles his finger back and forth. “You two look chummy.”
Not even being subtle about it.
“What do you want, Reid?”
“Besides a word? Nothing else.” He nods toward the restaurant. “Have a second to chat?”
I glance down at my watch and wince. “Not really, just stopping to get some of the ice cream Oliver was telling me about, and then I’m on my way.”
“It’s not five yet.”
“He’s making an exception for me.” I give Oliver a wink as he reaches in and hands me a fresh pint of blueberry-buckle ice cream.
“Want to make an exception for me too?” Reid asks, batting his eyelashes.
Staring blankly at Reid, Oliver answers with one word: “No.”
Reid’s face falls flat, and then his eyes narrow, issuing a silent warning.
Needing to break the tension building between all of us, I say, “Okay, Reid, bye.”
“What?” His brows shoot up to his hairline. “Are you dismissing me?”
“Yeah, I was having a private conversation with Oliver. So if you could leave us alone, that would be nice.”
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