Chapter 6
No. No. No. This was not happening. Not now. Not when I was hours away from home. And not when Nero, of all freaking people, was with me. I closed my eyes and prayed it was just my car being cranky. I didn’t give her enough time to warm up before I hit the gas. I mentally crossed my fingers and tried again.
This time I didn’t even get a sputter. It might as well be roadkill on the side of the road. There was no life left in this car.
“Fuck!”
Nero laughed, and I turned to him. “Why are you laughing, you jerk?” I swatted at his bicep.
He slipped his phone out and tapped the screen. “I’m sorry, but that f bomb was quite amusing coming from you.”
“I curse.”
“Oh, I’m aware, but that one had some force behind it.”
“Do you prefer I laugh and smile over the fact that my car has decided to end its life two hours away from home?”
The stupid check engine light no longer flashed, but the memory of it taunted me. I waited for the ‘I told you so’ to come from Nero, but it never did.
“Hi, my car broke down, and I’m hoping to get a tow.”
My eyes—hell, my entire body—snapped in his direction. He was already on the phone, handling the situation. But I couldn’t afford a tow. I couldn’t even afford to pay to get the damn car fixed in the first place.
“I have a credit card I can give you,” he said. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and I smacked it out of his hand.
“No!” I mouthed as if I yelled it. I fumbled for his wallet and when he reached for it, I rammed it beneath me and sat on it.
“Yes, I can hold. Thank you.” His lips pressed together, and he shook his head. “Don’t think I won’t shove my hands under your ass.”
My mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Sure, but only if we can use Monopoly money, because that’s all I’m going to have after this.”
A devious smirk appeared on his too handsome face. “I don’t need the card. I have the number memorized.” Something that sounded like a growl rushed past my lips.
“You can pay me back,” he said.
“No… I… Ugh.” I flung the flap of my crossbody bag open and dug out my card holder. I plucked out three credit cards. “I have seventy-five on this one. And a hundred on this one. Oh, and this one I have like a hundred and twenty-five.”
Nero’s eyebrow arched toward his perfect hairline. “Are you crazy?”
“This is my fault. I don’t need you paying because—” My words broke off as his hand cupped my tightened jaw. His thumb brushed lovingly across the clenched skin. I inhaled, a sense of calm floating through me from his simple touch.
“We’ll figure it out, but if you think I’m going to let you max out three credit cards to get a tow when I can take care of it, you’re out of your damn mind. Let me do this.” His thumb brushed again, his dark blue eyes holding my gaze.
“Sir?” the person on the other end said, but Nero didn’t answer.
“Please,” he mouthed to me.
I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch, and nodded.
“Yes, I’m here.” His hand fell from my face, and I wanted to grab it and press it back to my cheek. When he looked at me like that, it made me think the two of us were a possibility. But then I reminded myself he just wanted to get home, and the longer I argued and refused his help, the more time we wasted.
He ended the call and settled into the seat, his head still staring at his phone while his fingers moved across the screen. “They’re sending a truck. Said he’s out grabbing another car, so it could be a while.”
“How long is a while?” I asked.
“Two hours.”
“Two hours!” I exclaimed. “At this rate, we’re not going to be home until eight.”
“Actually, we’re not going to get home until tomorrow.”
My head went full on Exorcist. “Excuse me?”
I didn’t have any other cakes to be made this weekend or picked up. I spent most of my time on this one. But I had a few potential customers coming in to do a tasting. I couldn’t cancel on them. Not when people waited months to meet with me. Shit. The cakes were already made. I was going to have to get in touch with Austin, and he was going to have to manage for me, broken wrist or not.
I sent a quick text, telling him what had happened and begging for him to open for me tomorrow. I noticed Sherry replied to my earlier text, and sent a funny GIF in response.
“They can send the tow, but then can’t look at the car until the morning. I thought about calling Laurent or Rhone to come get us, but then we’d still have to drive back here in the morning to get your car. So it’s easier to stay the night.”
“Stay the night? In the car?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He put his phone down. “I booked a hotel. Check in is in an hour. We can grab something to eat, wait for the tow, then go to the hotel.”
Thoughts raced through my head, and I couldn’t manage to get a single one to flow into my mouth. A hotel? With Nero? Overnight? What in the hell was happening right now?
“You can go then. There’s no reason for you to stay.”
“Absolutely not. I’m not leaving you in a city that you’re unfamiliar with alone.”
“You can come with me to the hotel. See me to my room, and then go. I’ll get up in the morning and take an Uber right to the car.”
“I’m not leaving you.” There was a finality to his tone, a silent demand that I wasn’t to argue, but this was insanity. His eyes went to his phone, fingers moving at warp speed.
“You won’t be back in time for your shift tomorrow.”
“I texted Rhone.” He held up his phone, and it binged immediately. “And look at that. He can cover me.”
“Now you’re spending and losing money.”
“How am I losing money?”
“All those tips you make.”
He grew quiet for a second, lifting his shoulder nonchalantly. “I never keep the tips. I give them to the hostess and whoever else is on the bar with me.”
“What? You bring in a freaking fortune with that.” I swirled my finger at his face. “That Grasso charm, and you just give it away?”
“I make a salary, and with my inheritance from my grandfather, I have more money than I’ll ever need in this lifetime. Our hostess and bartenders need it more than me. They have bills, kids, and student loans. I appreciate them and they deserve it.”
“You’re a good person.” Lord knows he didn’t hear it enough.
“Doing the right thing shouldn’t make you good; it should just make you human.”
A smile cracked at the corner of my mouth, and a laugh slipped.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You’re proving my point while trying to refute it.”
My phone chimed, and I looked down at the screen. Austin texted a thumbs up emoji. Ah, a man of many words. At least that was taken care of. He’d been in the shop many times during tastings and even helped assist in a few. I had total faith in him to handle things.
What I didn’t have faith in was spending a night in a room with Nero and it not being completely awkward.
“Who is that?” Nero asked.
“My brother. I have some tastings scheduled for tomorrow, but he said he can take care of them.”
Nero clapped his hands together, the sound ringing out in the silence of the car. “Perfect. Now let's go get something to eat. I’m starving.”
I was beginning to think I did not charge nearly enough for this cake.
“What if the tow truck driver comes early?”
“They said he’ll text me when he’s on the way.”
My stomach decided it was a good time to make an ungodly rumble. I smacked a hand to my stomach, heat flooding my cheeks. The embarrassment almost outshined the sudden hunger pains.
“You might not be on the same page as me, but your stomach definitely is. Come on. Let’s feed it before it gets really angry.”
“Where are we going to go? I don’t know the area.”
“Let’s go back to the place we just came out of.”
“Did you see that place? I don’t think I could afford a cup of ice.”
“Good thing you’re not paying.”
“Why do I feel like I’m being punished because I wouldn’t accept your offer of a loan earlier?”
“Maybe you are. Maybe, for once, the universe is on my side.”
Before I could even manage an argument, he stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to get my bearings. Everything about this day was not going to plan. It was one speed bump after the next. At least the cake arrived in one piece.
I got out of the car and rounded the hood. “I’m paying you back every dime,” I said as he motioned for me to walk in front of him.
“We can have that argument another day.”
“No argument. It’s my final decision.”
He all but rolled his eyes. “Sure.” He continued walking, and I grabbed his arm. I gasped at the solid muscle beneath my fingertips. His eyes landed on my hand, the dark blue turning midnight as he looked at me.
“I-I…” The words stuttered out, my brain lost to the endless depths. A horn beeped in the distance, and my brain reengaged. “I mean it,” I finally managed. “I’m paying you back.”
“What if I want to do something nice for you?”
My lips parted, but words didn’t come. It was those damn eyes of his, holding me hostage and making me forget what it was to be an actual human who had a brain and thoughts. I inhaled, letting the oxygen refuel my weakening system. I wasn’t some lovesick idiot. I was an independent woman who fought for everything she had. But it was also nice to be taken care of. Even I could admit that.
“But this is too much.”
“For you? It’s not even close to enough.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me against his warmth. It didn’t matter that I only came up to just under his shoulder. We continued toward the door. “So order whatever you want, and if you say one thing about the prices, I am ordering for you.”
“I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions,” I said.
“Never said you weren’t. But you also worry too much about money.”
“Most people do. Not everyone has an inheritance to fall back on.” I jammed a finger into his ribs. “And before you take that as a bad thing, it’s not. My dad can’t even help me out when I fall behind.”
“Ray’s a hardworking man, and if he could, he would.”
“I know that. He’s still paying for Austin’s student loans. A lot of good those did.”
My dad worked construction and made a decent living, but between his thirty-year mortgage, his truck payment, Austin’s student loans, and all the other necessities, he was barely getting by. I hated I couldn’t help him. He did everything to provide for Austin and me, and my dream was to one day pay him back, but the reality was I was struggling more than him. My business was profitable, thanks to social media, but I was one person and couldn’t keep up with the demand. I could hire help, but until I paid off all of my debts, I didn’t have much to offer. Austin worked cheap and while I hated I couldn’t pay him more, it was more money than he’d make anywhere else. He had a hard time keeping a job.
“Austin will figure his life out. Give him time.”
“He’s been out of school for nine years. How much more time does he need?”
“I’m three years older than him, and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life.”
We walked through the doors of the restaurant, and I paused.
“Are you saying you don’t want to work at the winery for the rest of your life?”
His lips pressed into a thin line. I stared up at him, waiting. I’d always just assumed that the winery was his life. That even if he thought he was nothing more than a glorified bartender, he wouldn’t want to do anything else. It was his family, his legacy. He was raised inside those walls and on those grounds.
“Hi again,” the woman who had showed us to the event room earlier said as she approached. “The cake looks wonderful, and the bride-to-be has already taken a thousand pictures of it.”
“That’s fantastic,” I said, pulling my attention away from Nero.
“We’re having a little car trouble,” Nero said. “We’re hoping we can get a table in the restaurant or bar area and have some lunch while we wait for a tow.”
“Absolutely. I have a couple of high tops in the bar, or I have a booth available in the main room.”
“What do you prefer?” Nero asked me.
“I’m short, so the high tops are like climbing a mountain to get my butt up into the seat.”
Nero snorted, and the hostess smiled. She wouldn’t understand. She was practically as tall as Nero. Even in heels, I would only come up to her chin if I was lucky.
“Booth then?” Nero said.
“They are more intimate,” the hostess replied.
“How wide are the booths?” I asked. “I don’t need my boobs sitting on the table with our plates.” I didn’t want to be difficult, but I also wanted to be comfortable.
“Plenty of room,” the hostess said.
I clapped my hands together. “Booth it is.”
“Great. Follow me.” She grabbed two menus, and we trailed her into the main dining room. Most of the tables were filled with families and couples.
Nero waited for me to choose a side, then we both shimmied in across from each other. The hostess was right; there was plenty of room.
“I’ll have a waitress right over to you.”
“Thank you, Tabitha.” Nero flashed his signature Grasso charm, and Tabitha’s lip quirked.
“How do you know her name?” He probably flirted with her while I was setting up the cake. He couldn’t help himself. I knew that, so I wasn’t sure why the thought bothered me so much.
His eyebrow arched. “It was on her nametag.”
“You going to go for it?”
“What?”
I nodded toward Tabitha and her long legs. Nero followed my gaze before turning to the menu.
“I’m more than a playboy, Lanes,” he gritted out, and I jolted from his tone.
It wasn’t the first time I’d teased him about his endless flirting. But he must not have been in the mood. I shifted in the booth, wishing my heels touched the floor. Nero’s type was tall. Thin. Maybe I just threw that in his face all the time because I was in constant denial.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He attempted a smile over the menu, but it was off. “I have six siblings. I’m used to it.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” He picked up the menu, lips swishing back and forth. “What are you getting?”
He slid the other menu over to me, and I snatched it up. My attention immediately narrowed in on the numbers and holy—
“I told you not to look at the prices.”
“I’m not,” I lied.
Heat filled my cheeks under his scrutiny. He glanced toward my hand that was tugging on my ear…damn it!
I dropped my hand into my lap and fiddled with the hem of my shirt. “I tried not to,” I admitted. “But Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… Do you see how much they want for an order of mozzarella sticks?”
“If you want mozzarella sticks, then get mozzarella sticks.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying twenty-two dollars for a plate of fried cheese is a lot of money.” I gasped as the description came into focus. “You only get four! That’s over five dollars per stick. At least give me six. Hell, at that price, give me eight.”
“It comes with two types of dipping sauce.”
“For that price, someone should dip it for me and feed it to me.”
“This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”
“I just don’t understand why restaurants can get away overcharging for basic pub food. I pride myself on making high-quality cakes for competitive prices that are affordable to anyone.”
“Maybe if you charged a little more, your car wouldn’t be dead in the street.”
I opened my mouth and snapped it shut. “Touché.”
“I know you want to be affordable, but Lanes, your cakes are world class. Don’t be afraid to ask for your value.”
“It’s not about me. It’s about letting someone have the cake they dream of without having to worry about it breaking the bank.”
“It’s admirable, it is, but when you suffer from lifting others up, is it worth it? And look around. This place is fancy. Like you said, mozzarella sticks are over twenty bucks. The woman who ordered a cake from you is not worried about saving money.”
I glanced around at the exposed brick wall that paid homage to the original building, but that was where its humble beginnings stopped. Black leather booths with brass rivets lined the perimeter, while dark wood tables and tufted chairs with crushed gray velvet sat in open spaces. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a glow to the natural light streaming in through the arched window.
Everyone was donning designer clothes, and now that I noticed, I felt extremely under dressed.
“I’m sorry for being blunt,” Nero said, and my eyes snapped away from my five-year-old shirt with a cherry stain on the sleeve. “I just hate to know you’re struggling.”
“I’m not struggling.” The words shot out of my mouth in defense, but even I knew they were weak. Everything that transpired over this little road trip was proof that I was struggling.
Nero’s eyebrow rose, head tilted, and damn it, why did he have to look so sexy when he was basically pitying me?
“Fine,” I blurted. “I’m struggling, but everything will be okay.”
A guy who couldn’t be older than twenty stopped at our table and turned over the crystal water glasses. He produced a pitcher of water and filled each glass before nodding and walking away. I barely got a thank you out before he disappeared.
“I’m surprised it’s not bottled,” I said.
Nero took a sip. “Tastes like tap.” His smile settled, the unease twisting in my gut. “Though, to be honest. Water is water. Who the hell cares?”
“As someone who grew up drinking water out of the hose, I sure as heck don’t.” I picked up my glass and held it to him.
“To hose water,” he said before clinking his glass to mine.
My mind drifted to a simpler time when we ran through sprinklers and chased each other with water balloons. When he was just Nero, Sherry’s cool older brother, who always jumped in front of me to take a balloon to the chest when Austin and Rhone would team up on us girls. Before I noticed that very chest for the first time and couldn’t look at him without a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my gut.
“Do you ever miss it?” he asked as if he could see into my mind. He put his glass down, his fingers fidgeting with the rim.
“Miss what?”
“The days of drinking water out of the hose? When we didn’t have to worry about bills or getting someone to cover your shift?”
“Well, you never have to worry about bills so…” I flashed a smile, and he shook his head.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do. I think everyone misses it. Adulthood comes with responsibilities, and let’s be honest. Responsibility sucks. I love being a business owner and making cakes for a living, but sometimes I wish I could go travel back to Sherry and I playing Barbies in the backyard while you chased Laurent and Franc around.”
A slight smile cracked his lips. “I always wanted to play with them, and they were always trying to get away from me.”
“But eventually you stopped chasing them; they wanted you right by their side.”
“Or they just got tired.”
“Why do you do that?” I asked. Nero had always had his charm and confidence that radiated from him in strong waves, but it was all a fa?ade. At moments that carefully erected wall would crack, and I’d see beneath the layer.
“Do what?”
“Rely on self-deprecation instead of realizing your brothers don’t see you as that little kid who chased them around anymore? They look at you as their equal.”
“I’m not their equal.”
“That’s the biggest line of bullshit.”
“Hi, I’m Tini, I’ll be your server today,” a tall brunette with flawless skin and perfect makeup said. She held a pad with a pen at the ready. “Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”
“Perfect timing,” Nero said, flashing that Grasso charm. Did he even realize he was doing it? “I’m starving. We’ll take an order of your mozzarella sticks.”
My eyes popped wide, and my lips pursed. He was not ordering those.
“At twenty-two bucks, I bet they’re amazing,” he said with a quirk of his lip. To anyone else, it would seem like a dig to the establishment, but coming from Nero it was nothing but charm.
“Totally worth it,” she said. “They’re so good. And you get two dipping sauces!”
“You don’t say?” Nero’s head lowered, eyes meeting mine. “Oh, and just to make sure. You don’t fry those in the same oil as the fried shrimp, right?”
Heat engulfed my heart, spreading through my entire body. I was allergic to shrimp. I carried an EpiPen just in case.
“No, we keep those separate,” the waitress said.
“Perfect.”
“Do you know what you’d like for your main course? Or would you like me to put these in first?”
“I’ll have the steak sandwich, and she’ll have the bacon cheeseburger medium, no onion, extra pickles, and a side of ranch for her fries.”
He collected our menus and handed them off to the waitress.
“I’ll put this right in.”
She disappeared, and I stared, mouth slightly agape.
“You okay?”
“You stalking me?” I tilted my head, crossing my arms. “Watching me devour my favorite meal on the regular? See me pick those gross onions off and dig in my fridge for the pickles?”
He chuckled. “I notice the things that matter.”
“And my exact order matters?”
He smirked. “Came in handy, didn’t it?”