Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
In which I expand my culinary horizons…and encounter a ghost.
I was not the most adventurous eater. With work being my focus, I didn’t have time for a lot of experimenting, so I usually stuck with what I knew. Whenever Oliver ordered food for me, he picked from a list of restaurants I had, for lack of a better word, approved. So when Ocean suggested Vietnamese, my first instinct had been to say no. I like pho, but that was it, and something told me Ocean would push me far outside my comfort zone.
But then I’d reconsidered. Ocean was helping me open up to many new experiences, and so far, all of those had been positive. Maybe I should also give this a try. And so I said yes, and Ocean’s proud smile was a reward already.
The restaurant he’d picked was a hole-in-the-wall place tucked away on a hidden laneway, and without him, I would’ve never found it. Ocean’s hand rested on my lower back as he guided me to a cozy corner table on the restaurant’s outdoor patio. His touch—protective yet possessive—sent a shiver up my spine.
We settled into our seats. In New York, I hated outside dining since you were surrounded by honking horns and choking exhaust fumes. But here, a gentle breeze carried the tantalizing aroma of lemongrass and star anise, making my mouth water. The soft murmur of conversation and clinking glasses created a soothing ambiance, and the temperature had cooled off enough that it was pleasant.
Ocean flashed me a dazzling grin as he picked up the menu. “So, Cash, ready to expand your culinary horizons?”
“I’ve had Vietnamese before. There’s a place close to my office that makes great pho. I have it for lunch at least every other week.”
“Let me guess, always the same kind?”
I shifted in my seat. “Is it wrong to save time by developing habits and routines?”
His expression softened and he reached for my hand. “No, and I shouldn’t get on your ass about that. It’s easy for me to say when I don’t have your schedule or level of work and stress.”
I breathed out, relaxing my shoulders. “Thank you. I don’t like the idea of being boring. Even if I am…a little.”
“Boring?” Ocean let go of my hand and studied me, cocking his head. “You’re not boring. Safe, that’s what you are. You play it safe.”
“Aren’t boring and safe the same thing?”
I’d expected him to make a joke, maybe even confirm they were and he was merely teasing me, but instead, his expression grew serious. “They’re not. Your need to play it safe comes from a very real fear, and I would never make light of that.”
A very real fear? What was he referring to? I was afraid to ask, and so I didn’t. “What do you recommend?” I asked instead, changing the topic back to the original one.
“If you want to be adventurous, try the squid ink noodles.”
My stomach did a little flip. “Challenge accepted,” I said with more bravado than I felt. “Though if I end up with black teeth, you’re paying for the dental work.”
Ocean threw his head back and laughed, the joyous sound warming me from the inside out. “Deal. And don’t worry, I’ll kiss it all better if you get ink on those luscious lips of yours.”
I flushed at his flirtatious tone, ducking my head to study the menu intently. Ocean had a way of making me feel simultaneously powerful and utterly vulnerable. For a moment, I let myself imagine a future filled with quiet moments like this—sharing meals, trading playful banter, simply enjoying each other’s company. It was a dangerous fantasy. I’d learned the hard way that happiness could be fleeting, that trust often led to betrayal. But something about Ocean made me want to lower my defenses, to dive headfirst into the unknown depths of what we could be together.
The waiter approached, jolting me from my reverie. As Ocean confidently ordered for both of us, even throwing in a few Vietnamese phrases to the delight of the waiter, I marveled at the enigma sitting across from me. Just when I thought I had him figured out, he revealed another hidden depth.
“You’re full of surprises,” I said once the waiter left. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
Ocean’s gaze softened as he reached across the table to brush his fingers against mine. “I’m still working on the whole mind-reading thing. But give me time, Cash. I intend to learn everything there is to know about you.”
A shiver ran through me at Ocean’s words, his touch electrifying even in its gentleness. My breath caught as I met his intense gaze, seeing desire and something deeper swimming in those impossibly blue eyes. “Well,” I managed, my voice huskier than intended, “I suppose I could be persuaded to share a few secrets. But where’s the fun if I give everything away at once?”
Ocean’s lips curved into a sinful smirk. “Oh, I do love a challenge. And you, Cash, are the most delicious puzzle I’ve ever encountered.”
The arrival of our appetizers provided a welcome distraction from the heat building between us. Ocean had ordered a variety of small plates, each more colorful and aromatic than the last.
“Let’s start with these bánh bèo,” Ocean suggested, gesturing to delicate rice cakes topped with dried shrimp and crispy pork rinds. “They’re like little bites of heaven.”
I hesitated, my usual caution warring with a newfound desire to impress this captivating man. “I’ll trust your judgment,” I said, reaching for one of the tiny dishes.
When I took my first bite, an explosion of flavors danced across my tongue—savory, sweet, and umami all at once. I couldn’t suppress a small moan of pleasure.
“Good, right?” Ocean’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “You should see your face right now. It’s inspiring. And so was that sound you made.”
The heat in his gaze made me acutely aware of how that moan must have sounded. I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “It’s incredible. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it.”
As we continued to sample the various dishes, I relaxed, genuinely enjoying the culinary adventure. Ocean’s enthusiasm was infectious, and his knowledge of the cuisine was impressive without being pretentious.
“You know,” I said between bites of fragrant lemongrass chicken, “I appreciate you making me try different things. This is eye-opening.”
Ocean’s smile was warm and encouraging. “Sometimes the most rewarding experiences come when we step out of our comfort zones. Don’t you think?”
I knew he wasn’t talking about the food. My heart raced as I considered his words, the double meaning clear. Was I ready to truly let my guard down with this man? To explore not only new flavors but new feelings?
“You might be onto something there,” I admitted softly, surprised by my willingness to be vulnerable. “I’m finding that I quite enjoy expanding my horizons…with you.”
Ocean’s eyes lit up at my admission. “Well, I’m more than happy to be your guide in all things culinary and otherwise.”
Heat crept up my neck, but for once, I didn’t try to hide it. Instead, I chuckled, the sound surprising even me with its ease. “I’m open to either. You haven’t disappointed me so far.”
Ocean leaned back, his posture relaxed yet somehow still commanding. “What can I say? I have excellent taste.” His gaze raked over me appreciatively, and I felt a shiver of desire run down my spine.
We fell into a comfortable banter, discussing Ocean’s favorite spots in the city. His stories were punctuated with surfing metaphors and oceanic analogies that should have been cheesy but somehow worked coming from him. I laughed more than I had in years, a lightness settling in my chest that I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.
As we finished our meal, Ocean’s expression grew thoughtful. “You know, Cash, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
I raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh?”
“You said you’d be willing to tell me more about my mom. What was she like?”
The question caught me off guard, memories of Marcia flooding back. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “Marcia was a force of nature. She had this infectious energy that drew people in. You remind me a lot of her.”
Ocean leaned forward, clearly eager to hear more. I was transported back to those college days, sharing anecdotes of Marcia’s adventures and misadventures. “There was this one time when she decided to organize a midnight mermaid competition in the campus fountain. She managed to convince half her dorm to join her. I’ve never seen campus security so baffled.”
As I spoke, I watched Ocean’s face, seeing glimpses of Marcia in his features, in the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. It was bittersweet, realizing how much of her lived on in him.
“She sounds amazing,” Ocean said softly, a hint of longing in his voice. “I wish I’d had more time with her.”
I reached across the table, placing my hand over his without thinking. “She’d be so proud of you, Ocean, of the man you’ve become. She would’ve loved to see it.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the world around us faded. A connection formed—or maybe only intensified—deeper than physical attraction, rooted in shared history and mutual understanding. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
As the moment lingered, a shadow passed over Ocean’s face. His brow furrowed slightly, and I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere. “And my father? What was he like?”
The mention of Preston hit me like a bucket of ice water. My hand, still resting on Ocean’s, tensed involuntarily. I pulled it back, trying to mask my discomfort with a sip of water.
“Preston, yes,” I managed, my throat suddenly dry.
The weight of the past pressed down on me, memories I’d tried to bury resurfacing with startling clarity. The laughter and easy conversation of moments ago evaporated, replaced by a heavy silence.
Ocean reached out, his fingers brushing against my forearm. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
His touch was comforting, grounding me in the present. I took a deep breath, torn between the desire to share and the fear of reopening old wounds. “How much do you know? About your father and me, I mean.”
I couldn’t quite meet Ocean’s gaze, instead focusing on the condensation beading on my water glass. My heart raced, anticipation and dread warring as I waited for his response.
“I know you two were close friends at one point, but he was always vague about why your friendship ended. He said it had something to do with a relationship you were in and your boyfriend not approving of your friendship?”
My boyfriend not approving of our friendship? Holy shit, had he seriously put the blame on Victor? What an asshole. I fought to keep my voice level. “You mean him not approving of my boyfriend.”
“What happened? If you want to tell me, that is.”
I appreciated him not pushing, but I wanted to tell him, if only to set the record straight. I hesitated, on the fence about confessing the truth of my relationship with Victor, when movement across the street caught my eye. A man was watching us, his face hidden behind sunglasses, a baseball cap, and the shadows of the building he stood in front of. As soon as I turned my head in his direction, he whipped out his phone, staring at the screen.
My breath hitched as I watched him. From a distance, he bore a resemblance to Preston, to a degree that my stomach swirled uncomfortably. Time seemed to stand still as I swallowed thickly. It couldn’t be, could it? Why would Preston be here? He was about as tall as him, though, with the same broad shoulders and muscular build.
“Cash? You okay?” Ocean asked.
I forced a smile as I focused on him, but it felt brittle. “I’m fine,” I lied, my voice strained. “I thought I saw someone I knew.”
Ocean’s brow furrowed, concern etching his features. He reached across the table, his warm hand enveloping mine. The touch was grounding, anchoring me to the present, but it couldn’t quite dispel the unease churning in my gut.
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
If only he knew how spot-on he was. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the paranoia. “It’s nothing. My imagination is playing tricks on me.”
When I looked across the street again, the man turned away, melting into the crowd with practiced ease.
Ocean’s thumb traced soothing circles on the back of my hand, the gesture comforting and distracting. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
I nodded, grateful for his understanding, even as doubt gnawed at me. Was it really Preston I’d seen, or was my mind conjuring phantoms from my past? The uncertainty lingered, a shadow cast over our otherwise perfect evening.
“I know.” I mustered a more genuine smile. “And I appreciate that, Ocean. More than you know.”
But even as I tried to lose myself in Ocean’s reassuring presence, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen a ghost. The encounter, real or imagined, had opened a door to the past that I wasn’t sure I was ready to step through.