Page 37 of Wait a HO HO HO Second!
“The kitchen is fine. Unless you need the dining room table to spread out your work.”
Rather than speak, he just pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. It seated only four, and it was Lorelei’s favorite spot for a quick breakfast as they went through her schedule for the day. It was where Joy had first broken down and sobbed the day Lorelei picked her up from the side of the road. It was also where they stacked batches of Christmas cookies every year. The table held so many memories of Lorelei that she couldn’t help but smooth her hand across the oak.
“Remembering all the times you sat here with Mom?” Kian asked, still holding the chair.
“I must be easy to read,” Joy said, finally sitting down. The table was already set with full place settings. Something told her the dining room table was set as well, just in case. She wasn’t into formalities, though. Give her all the comforts of home, and she was a happy girl.
“Now that I know how much time you spent here with Mom, it makes sense that so many of her things hold memories for you that I don’t share. If I’m honest, I love seeing the house through your eyes. The way you caress the furniture before you sit tells me it holds special significance.”
Once he took her crutches, he leaned them against the wall, then held up a finger and disappeared behind her, rummaging under the counter.
“It stands to reason we have different memories of Wintercrest Estate,” she agreed. “Mine aren’t always about the big things we did but about the everyday moments, like a woman comforting a young girl who had just lost everything and was sobbing, or the way we laughed and sang Christmas carols while baking cookies with Freya.”
When he returned, he brought a bottle of chardonnay and poured it into their glasses. “I’ll admit I’m a bit jealous that you have those memories, but I’m happy you do. Does that make sense? I missed so much time with her by insisting I’d never return to this little town. In hindsight, I realize how much of a mistake that was.”
Before Joy could say anything, he walked back into the kitchen, so she brought the glass to her nose and swirled the wine to release its effervescence. She’d barely tasted it when Kian set their meals on the table. Thick, creamy chicken stew came with a basket of homemade rolls and rosemary butter.
Moaning, she rubbed her hands together. “The woman knows the way to my heart.”
“Through your stomach?” he asked.
“Can’t even deny it. I’m an open book. Freya knows I’m a foodie.”
He raised his glass and waited while she did the same. “To Freya for always getting it just right.”
Once they’d clinked glasses and shared a drink, they dug into their food, the spicy chicken warming her from head to toe. The rolls had the perfect balance of a crunchy top and a soft interior, letting the rosemary butter melt just right.
“This might get me into trouble, but I’m going to say it anyway,” he said, bracing his fork against his plate. “There’s nothing better than watching a woman savor good food.”
Knowing it was smart not to respond with words, Joy pinned him with a look that, hopefully, said, ‘Sure you do.’
“Never been more serious,” he insisted. “I’ve dated a lot of women and spent many dinners feeling awkward, eating burgers or steaks while they claim they aren’t hungry. As a foodie myself, I love going out with other foodies who appreciate not only the craft of cooking but also the flavor profiles and the pure pleasure of good food.”
“Or, in this case, eating in.” She paused, head tilted. “Wait, is this a date?”
“Would I love this to be a date? Yes. Would I ever assume it was without asking first? No. As for eating in, only when it’s Freya’s cooking. Mine? Not so much.” He laughed at himself, and Joy smiled.
The man sitting beside her today was not the person she thought he was just a few weeks ago. Racking her brain, she tried to figure out why, but she couldn’t come up with anything but the word ‘real.’ That was when she realized Kian had never been his authentic self as a kid. This was Kian Van Adler now, and she had to admit she kind of liked who he was. The kind of man who wanted a date but would never assume lunch was one without asking first. Respect. That was the word she was looking for. Kian had found respect for others somewhere along the line.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, pushing his plate aside to take a sip of his wine. “Your eyes did that thing they do when something serious hits.”
“My eyes do a thing?” That genuinely surprised her. “I thought I had my mall GM face on.”
“Never with me,” Kian said, shaking his head. “Unless we’re at the mall. When we’re together privately, your eyes tell me everything your lips don’t.”
“Is that so?” Joy asked, trying to decide whether to melt into a puddle because, man, that was a line she never expected to hear from Kian about her. “Here I thought I had my emotions locked down around you. Tell me what my eyes told you this time. Other than it was something serious.”
“If I had to place a bet, I would say it was something about me not being the same Kian you used to know.”
Tipping her head in surprise, she leaned against the table. “Can confirm. Maybe I need to work on my poker face when we’re together.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. Even when you’re being spicy, I’ll take the real Joy Brady any day.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “I can be spicy. That’s fair. The real Joy Brady sat here thinking the Kian before her was the real deal. The Kian she grew up with was fake, the one who thought being loud and boisterous was the way to make friends.”
“It worked, but they weren’t the right kind of friends. They were the kind who abandoned you the moment they no longer needed you. That said, your assessment was correct. It took some time, but I finally discovered the real Kian Van Adler. I like him much more than the guy you used to know.”
“Me too,” Joy said, the two words slipping out. Did she want to pull them back? No. It was true. She did like who he was now. “I know we have this whole sworn-enemies banter going on, but I’m kind of low-key tired of it.”
