Page 39 of Dirty Chef
“Oh, Adam.” She sighed and shook her head. “I would never—”
“I know.” I kissed her quickly. I didn’t wanna talk about it further, to be honest.
“Then I left with him.” She rolled her eyes, maybe at me, maybe at herself, maybe at the whole situation. “I’m sorry. You made me so mad, but I should have reminded you about the note.” Her forehead landed on my sternum. “I didn’t think it was gonna take that long. At first, he seemed hurt. He had questions—and I-I was honest. I told him about you. Then I think he tried to convince me to—” She stopped when a low growl emanated from my chest. “Adam, we parted ways maybe thirty seconds after we were out the door. I went for a walk to calm down. That’s it.”
Comforting, but it didn’t stop the possessiveness from flowing through me.
“Don’t be angry,” she whispered, sliding her hands up my chest.
“I’m not angry at you.” I leaned down and captured her mouth with mine again. It was the only thing that took the pressure off.
She blushed and fumbled with her words. “Can we talk about—I mean—are we okay? Can we—”
“Later,” I promised with a slow grin. I kissed her some more because I fucking could. “We’ve got a busy day ahead, and I’m already behind. You have to finish the cake, and I have two more side dishes to create before we head up to my folks’.”
That unnerved her. She wanted things settled.
I kissed her nose and backed off to—
“Wait.” She gripped my arm. “The crib?”
I nodded. “It’s white. No need to assemble it right now. Come on, let’s get to work.”
* * *
Alessia was sufficiently frustrated and constantly watching me with all the questions written on her forehead by the time we showed up at my folks’ place in Ponderosa. My pop had done well for himself after forty years in finance—managing to pass down his love for digits to exactly one of his four sons—so when he retired, he bought Ma’s dream house up in the district we all loved to call the rich folks’ area. Much of the neighborhood rested on a cliff and had estates and mansions poking out from between the trees.
“She put up with my work and took care of you all these years. This is the least I could do,” Pop had said when they moved in a few years ago.
Ironically, when they no longer needed so much space, they went and bought a house that was bigger than the one we’d grown up in.
According to my mother: for all the future grandchildren.
Never had I included myself in the bunch who would contribute to those being born.
Until…
“Ma, get the door!” I yelled. Walking up the driveway with three big-ass Styrofoam coolers and one bag of wine bottles was no fucking picnic. Alessia trailed after me with her own share. The cake, bread, some gear I needed, and one of the side dishes.
Thankfully Ma had heard me, and she opened the door to let us in.
She smiled warmly. “Oh, goodness! You two continue to spoil us, sweetheart.”
Nonsense. This was just tradition. Alessia and I took care of the food for Grady Night.
“Jack here already?” I carried the food into the kitchen and set it on the kitchen island. “I saw his car.”
“Yes, they came up with the twins an hour ago,” she answered. Now that I no longer had my arms full, I dutifully kissed her cheek and hugged her hello. “Isla’s resting up in their guest room, and Jack and your father are on the terrace.”
I chuckled. “Did he buy more heaters again?”
“You know it. He’s not happy until we can sit outside all year-round.” She walked over to greet Alessia with more warmth than any of us guys got. Isla received similar treatment. It was unfair. “It’s been so long, darling. Tell me, how did your date go?”
I shot Alessia a sharp look.
What the fresh fuck?
Alessia’s cheeks turned pink, and she smiled and patted Ma’s arm. “I’m afraid that won’t work out. I, um, kind of met someone else.”
Fuck yeah, you did. Tell my mother how great he is.
“See, this is what happens when we don’t have lunch every week,” Ma replied. Right. How scandalous. “Well, don’t hold out on me. Tell me everything.”
I saw the snark coming a mile away, and I narrowed my eyes at her twist of a smirk.
“Actually,” she said, “he’s a bit of a dick.”
“I think he’s fantastic,” I stated. Hateful woman.
Ma spun on me, surprised. “You’ve met him? Is he good enough?”
I opened my mouth, only to shut it. And I slid my stare back to Alessia and exhaled. Her own amusement seemed to fade and give way to curiosity. She wanted to know what I was gonna answer, and I had to go with the truth.
