Chapter 25 – Roman
ROMAN
Braelyn is hunting for sea creatures. We’re on the stretch of beach on the other side of the grassy area from our suite.
It’s a long stretch of not a whole lot except sand and ocean, with a few ships offshore dotting the cloudy horizon.
An attendant asked if we wanted chairs and umbrellas set up for us, but we declined.
I have an obvious love-hate relationship with the ocean.
I spent my life sailing on it with my brother, and now I live above it, but I haven’t been back in it since that day.
No, we’re not counting me diving in to save the kid.
That was different. Even being on the beach right now isn’t my favorite, but watching Braelyn’s happy smile and excited movements as she chases tiny crabs and unearths shells from the sand is making it tolerable.
I told her I didn’t want to mess this up, that this was the most important week of my life and she kissed me.
But that’s okay because she’s mine. She is.
In Braelyn language, her kissing me is her way of saying okay without overthinking it.
So even though I wanted to take a walk on the path and maybe get an ice cream or something, I allowed her to take me down here.
I’ve never been the sort of guy who would have thought I’d ever be pussy-whipped, but this girl has me, and she clearly knows it because here we are.
“Come on, little guy.” She holds out her hands, hoping he’ll crawl into them. “I won’t hurt you.”
“But I will. I will legit take that crab and cook the fuck out of him.”
Braelyn throws me a menacing glare from where I’m standing ten feet from the water while she’s got her toes in the wake. She drops her chin back to the crab and starts to give chase as it scurries back into the sand. “No, wait! Don’t go. He didn’t mean it.”
“I did. You should save yourself.”
“You’re evil.”
“You know you ate crab two nights ago at dinner, right? And at breakfast in Vegas.”
She peers up at me. “Crap. I totally did. Do you think it was his friend?”
“Absolutely. His best friend. Since birth. You’re a crab killer. A destroyer of crab lives and legacies. Worse than the birds that eat them.”
She flips me off. “Thank you for that daytime drama take on it.” She stands, no longer caring about the crabs in the sand. “Do you remember when Nash dared me to dive naked into the ocean by your grandparents’ place on the Vineyard?”
“You mean the summer he made us watch Jaws and wanted to recreate the opening scene?”
“Yes.” She laughs at my scowl. “He told me there wouldn’t actually be a great white waiting for us.”
“He just wanted to see you naked.”
She purses her lips. “Now that I think about it, maybe.”
“Definitely.”
“I made everyone turn around and stripped down, then ran into the water, only to run back out two minutes later. I don’t think I’ve ever been more afraid of anything than I was in that moment.”
“Considering there are great whites in that area, it was likely smart you ran back out.”
She shudders and comes over to me, her arms wrapping around my neck, and she pulls up onto her tiptoes to kiss the corner of my lips.
My arms band around her, and my hands land on her ass over her tiny shorts.
I give her a squeeze as I tilt my head and deepen the kiss.
I’m starting to get scared and scared isn’t something I do well.
“You know, you could say no to a dare once in your life.”
She scrunches her nose. “I think I’d regret not doing it and taking the chance more than I would turning it down.”
“But now you’re married to me.”
“Now I’m married to you. Think of the millions of hearts that’ll break when they realize you’re officially off the market.”
She’s laughing, but I’m serious when I ask, “Am I? Off the market, that is?”
“At least until we get divorced.”
She’s still teasing, but it pisses me the fuck off. Regardless, I don’t press it.
I’m at the point where I won’t be able to go back.
I won’t be able to let her go. I’ve had her and I get to hold her and kiss her and tease her and touch her and be inside of her.
I want this forever and I don’t know how I’ll recover if I lose it.
I can’t just be her friend anymore and that feeling fills me with dread because being her friend is the best part of who I am.
She called me a good man, but the truth is, without her, I’m not sure I would be.
If she hadn’t been there after Nash died, I’m positive I would have gone down a very dark and different path. She’s held me firmly in the light. She’s made me want to be better. A man who deserves her even when I feel like I’ll never live up to that quest.
I lift her into my arms and kiss her harder. Until we’re both breathless and smiling and the wind hugs us together.
“Let’s go in the water.”
I stiffen. “Or not.”
She pulls back and meets my eyes, her body tangled around mine as I hold her up by her ass. “Just our feet.”
“Braelyn—” I cut myself off as I think about this. About what I was just saying about fear. “All right.”
Her eyes round. “For real?”
“For real.”
She wiggles out of my arms and takes my hand, instantly walking through the hot sand to the cool water.
The moment it hits my feet, a shock rolls through me.
Yes, it’s cold in comparison to the sand, but it’s more than that.
It’s visceral. Like the first hit in a match, it awakens my senses and gets my blood thrumming.
It’s fight or flight and I always choose the former and never the latter.
I pull my phone from my pocket and take a picture of my feet and send it to my parents like a little kid showing off a stick-figure art project.
But I don’t care. They’ll know what this is for me.
In the last six years, I’ve pulled away from them.
Maybe it’s time I changed that. Maybe it’s okay to live again.
Two nights later, it’s Braelyn’s birthday.
She spent the day doing sunrise yoga, getting a massage and a facial, and lounging by the ocean.
Unfortunately, I had to work for most of it.
One of the major produce vendors was here and that was how it went.
Braelyn said she didn’t care. That she was happy to have the time and spent most of the morning chatting with friends and family.
Friends and family whom she didn’t tell that she was married.
I tried not to let it burn me. After all, she asked for this time here to simply be and explore where we could go. She’s not ready for the interrogation both of us would undoubtedly receive, and that’s fine.
Since she wouldn’t let me buy her a birthday gift, claiming that Vegas and the resort were already her gifts, I decided to do something special with her.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, one hand gripping my forearm like I’m about to toss her blindfolded ass off a cliff, the other outstretched like if I don’t throw her off a cliff, I’m going to smash her into a wall.
“Are you always this annoying with surprises?”
“Yes. In fact, I officially don’t like surprises after walking in on my ex in flagrante delicto.”
I cough out a laugh. “You sound like my grandmother saying it that way.”
“Your grandmother is very wise. Oh! I just realized. Now that we’re married, Octavia is my grandmother too. Yay! That’s so cool.” She does a little happy skip in the air and claps her hands. “I’ve always wanted her as my grandmother. She’s the freaking best.”
I sigh. “So you married me for my family?”
“And your money. Don’t forget that. No prenup, baby.”
“Right. How could I forget? Don’t move.” I stop her so I can unlock the door to the restaurant.
“Is this the moment before you throw me off the cliff? Because I can hear the ocean and feel the breeze.”
See. This is how well I know my girl.
“In a minute. First I have to smash you into a bunch of walls.”
“Ha. You’re very funny. Seriously, what is all this?”
“Your birthday present.”
She groans and sags dramatically. “Roman,” she whines my name. “No more gifts or money spent on me.”
“I thought you just said you married me for my money.”
“And you know that was a lie. I hate your stupid money and I don’t like this.”
After I open the door, I kiss her temple. “Trust me,” I whisper against her skin, retake her hand, and guide her over the threshold. I peel the sleep mask I was using as a blindfold back from her eyes and flip on the lights. Lights that are no longer working as a club effect.
Clinch unfolds before her eyes, most of the decor not yet finished.
The restaurant itself sits up on stilts, some of it partially hanging over a wetland and the ocean.
The wide-plank natural wood floors are covered in paper and there’s no furniture or light fixtures yet.
Just some industrial lighting, but the framework is here, as is the most important part.
The kitchen.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, her hand covering her lips. She hasn’t seen it yet and whenever she’d ask if she could, I’d blow her off, intending that tonight would be her reveal even if it’s not finished yet. “Roman…”
My name trails off as she slowly enters the space, taking in the one-hundred-eighty-degree floor-to-ceiling—and the ceilings are twenty-five feet tall—windows that overlook the grounds of the hotel, the wetlands, and the ocean.
There’s a rectangular bar in the center of the room and the granite my designer picked out isn’t here yet, but the dark wood is and it was freshly varnished today.
“This is stunning. Wow. I’m speechless with this.”
I come in behind her, resting my chin on her shoulder. “You haven’t seen my favorite part yet.”
“I’m positive I already know what that is, but I can’t imagine there’s anything better than this view.”
“Depends on your angle. Come with me, kid.” I lead her through the swinging door to the spacious kitchen. Like the restaurant, it’s not finished either, but it does have what I need for tonight set up and waiting, not on fire or covered in plastic, along with a chilled bottle of champagne.
“What’s all this?”
“I’m making you dinner tonight.”
A smile lights up her face. “Can I help?”
“Sure. Let’s get you in an apron.”
Braelyn isn’t much of a cook, but she follows orders exceptionally well as I already knew.
She’s also a huge lover of all things Italian food, so I’m making her some dishes I know she loves like arancini with buffalo mozzarella, pecorino, peas and prosciutto, a wild boar pappardelle made with homemade pasta, cocoa, cognac, and parmesan, grilled rosemary focaccia, pork loin with polenta, Swiss chard, and roasted carrots, and for dessert I already made the batter for a molten chocolate cake that I’ll serve her along with homemade ice cream that’s in the freezer.
I pop the champagne and we get to work on preparing the dishes along with the items I’ve already prepped.
We listen to music and sip on champagne and chat and as weird as it sounds, I haven’t had this much fun in the kitchen in a long time.
Usually, it’s work, and though I love everything about my job, it’s still exactly that. A job.
I’ve never cooked for pleasure like this alongside someone.
There isn’t a great place to sit since the dining room isn’t set up, but I created a table in the corner of the kitchen for us and put a tablecloth over it and some flowers the resort gave me for her.
I’ve already set up our wine pairings, but Brae is a champagne girl and doesn’t want to part with her glass.
“Cheers,” I say, holding up my glass to toast her.
“To my best friend. My favorite person in the world. The woman who never fails to see light through the dark and make everything shiny and bright. I…” I pause.
I want to say it, but I also want her to enjoy her special dinner.
“I’m so happy you’re here with me, my wife. ” I wink at her. “Happy birthday.”
“Cheers, husband. This is incredible.”
We clink glasses, and even though she’s joking as she calls me husband, I still can’t stop the way my pulse quickens every time she says it.
Course by course, we eat, and when we reach dessert, I make her an espresso martini and drop a candle in the cake.
“Make a wish.”
She closes her eyes and with a smile tickling her lips, she leans forward and blows out the candle. Her eyes open slowly, dark against the trickle of smoke that rises from the extinguished candle.
“This has been the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
My chest pinches. “Yeah?”
“Without a doubt.”
She rises from her seat and comes around the table to me. I lean back, and she climbs right onto my lap. She leans in and shocks me with a kiss, tasting like chocolate and coffee and everything decadent I love.
“Have you ever fucked anyone in one of your kitchens, Chef?”
I smirk against her lips before I trail down her neck. “I’m about to.”