25. Ezra
The second Delia and Brie were on board with the Wine & Dine event, I’d reached out to the community center to get the date booked. The only day they had available was the first Saturday of November, which had given me plenty of time to cobble together a menu. Unfortunately, I was a perfectionist, and it took me ages to settle on the perfect offerings for each course. Four days before, I texted both Delia and Owen to swing by the winery and sample what I’d created.
I might have been giving Delia a taste of her own medicine, and my work was complete when she and Owen had a moment that left him decidedly hot and bothered for the rest of the tasting—and sent him practically running away when we were done.
I understood that feeling all too well.
And now, it was my turn to suffer torture at the hands of a different Delatou woman.
The day before my event, I set my dad and Hansen up with a vat of macaroni and cheese for dinner and headed to Brie’s Bakery.
I pulled up to the back door, reversing my Subaru into the space so I could unload my supplies from the hatch. I couldn’t help comparing this to the first time I’d come here and recognizing how vastly different the circumstances were.
Though the door was unlocked, Brie was nowhere to be found, and I was a little grateful I’d have the chance to get my bearings before confronted with her and the memories I knew being together in this space again would bring up.
Once everything was spread out on the island and I set to work unpacking the grocery bags, I heard the back door open and close.
A moment later, there she was.
Olive skin free of makeup, hair braided and draped over her right shoulder like always. Black leggings that had flour stains all over them, an oversized 2025 Apple Blossom Bay Fall Festival tee hanging down to her knees.
It was so like those nights, both at the winery and in this very kitchen. I half expected her to lead me out into the dining room to show me around.
And then take me upstairs and let me reacquaint myself with her cunt.
Things between us were still awkward and stilted after the kiss at the winery and my admission that I missed her at dinner a few weeks before, but I was determined to fix it. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss. About her sugary sweet scent stuffing its way up my nose again, about how it felt to have her back in my arms. Those soft, full lips against mine, her tongue slipping into my mouth.
Hell, even the moment she shoved me away. All of it turned me on in the worst way. I wanted Brie in all the ways she’d let me have her, and I couldn’t lie: her stubbornness was sexy as fuck. It’d be that much sweeter when she finally gave in and let me have her.
When I finally got to sink back into that beautiful body and claim it as mine forever.
“Hi,” I said nervously, shaking off that mental image.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. I fell asleep.”
“In the middle of the day?”
She flicked her wrist to check her watch. “First of all, it’s seven p.m. Second, we were absolutely slammed today, and I’ve been up since four. The apple cinnamon scones were a huge hit up at the barn during the festival, so everyone has been coming in to buy some of the mix to take home.”
I couldn’t help but grin at her. God, she’d come such a long way from that fresh faced twenty-two-year-old just about to open this pace. Now, she was an accomplished businesswoman with one of the busiest shops on Main Street.
The addition of take-and-bake mixes for her most popular menu items had really launched her into the stratosphere, so much so that she’d even opened an online store and shipped her confections all over the world.
“I hope you know how proud of you I am,” I said softly.
Brie’s swallow was audible, though her responding “thank you” barely was. Then she awkwardly cleared her throat and, louder, said, “So what can I do to help?”
“First, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
During the tasting with Delia and Owen, Delia had asked me about ticket costs and what I was planning to do with the funds raised. Thanks to her and Owen both pledging to match whatever money came in, I could afford to spread the wealth. Farms for Folks had always been high on my list, an organization that paired Apple Blossom Bay residents in need with local farmers and locally grown food. As a chef, I’d always been a huge advocate for both living off the land and using locally sourced ingredients whenever possible. The task was far more difficult back in the concrete jungle of New York, but since moving to small town life, I’d really made it my mission to make up for lost time.
The second place I’d be donating was to the volunteer fire department. Those men and women provided necessary emergency services to the entire peninsula, and they were woefully underfunded.
The final item on my list had always been more of a pipe dream than anything, but Delia and Owen were helping make it a reality.
“Shoot,” she said.
“So your sister and Owen both agreed to match any funds raised for the event through ticket costs, and since the community center rental is low and the winery is donating all the wine, I’m going to have a lot left over to allocate to some organizations I feel really strongly about.”
“Farms for Folks, right?”
I nodded. “And I want some to go to the volunteer fire department.”
Brie smiled. “That’s great, Ez. They can certainly use it. But what does that have to do with me?”
“I’ve always wanted to form a scholarship fund to help kids who want to attend culinary school but could use some extra financial support. While in New York, it didn’t make sense because…” I trailed off, not really wanting to get into the particulars of how my money—yes, even the money I’d earned myself—had been tied up with all sorts of strings attached.
And Shannon had spent a lot of it. But that was neither here nor there.
Coming back to myself, I said, “I’d like to set up a scholarship at the Traverse City high school, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping me fund it.”
Brie blinked in surprise, as though she hadn’t expected that. But…who else would I ask? Of the two of us, she was the one who had grown up here. Had attended the very high school where I wanted to establish a scholarship. Had roots that went deeper into the ground beneath our feet than most people realized.
At last, she said, “I love that idea, Ez. I’m happy to help.”
I grinned, deeply pleased I’d done something right by her for once.
Brie’s smile grew to match mine but quickly flattened, the brightness in her eyes dimming slightly, like she couldn’t allow herself to express any sort of positive emotion in my presence. I hated myself for making her feel that way.
After awkwardly clearing her throat and looking away from me, she said, “Where do you want me to start?”
I directed her to first get some eggs hard boiling, then asked that she start chopping vegetables.
Working alongside her was easy, like we’d been navigating a kitchen together for years. There was no awkwardness, no stepping on toes or slamming into each other. We moved around in a well-choreographed dance. Once she’d completed the prep tasks and it was my turn to do the heavy lifting, she moved on to getting started on her dessert.
“You never told me what you were making,” I said, voice hoarse from disuse over the last few hours.
“Mini apple cobblers with homemade ice cream,” she said, not looking up from where she sliced up a handful of juicy Granny Smith apples.
“Do I get a taste?”
The words came out far more suggestive than I intended, and I dipped my head, not wanting to see her reaction. I wasn’t exactly batting a thousand where she was concerned, and I was afraid my forwardness at Birdie’s that night had done more harm than good.
Especially since it seemed like she’d been avoiding me.
“Yes, Ezra,” she said softly. “You can sample the cobbler when I’m done.”
With a curt nod, I turned back to the stove, the swirling of the squash soup around my wooden spoon mirroring my spinning thoughts.
I should never have agreed to this, should never have let Delia push Brie into letting me use her kitchen. After my errant comment, Brie was more closed off than ever, and the tension in the room was thick as butter. It seemed I couldn’t stop fucking up where she was concerned, and I was beginning to lose hope of ever winning her back.
Unfortunately, food prep wasn’t something I could rush. I couldn’t decide I was done, tuck my tail between my legs, and run. I had to stay here, feeling every second of the awkwardness like a knife to the heart.
Where the silence before had been…not quite companionable, but easier, now it was painfully loud. I actually breathed a sigh of relief when I finished the last bit of prep I needed for the next day. I moved to the sink to wash my hands, and as I wiped them dry, Brie spoke.
“It’s ready if you still want a taste.”
My head shot up, and I spun toward her so fast, I nearly tripped over my own two feet.
The words had been soft, barely above a whisper, but they were an olive branch.
I willed myself to cross the room slowly, to not appear too eager and scare the shit out of her. I knew it wouldn’t take much for her to disappear upstairs and lock me out of her life again.
In front of her sat two dishes, each laden with a perfectly round apple cobbler, the scent of cinnamon rising into the air, mixing with the fragrant vanilla of the scoop of ice cream and reminding me far too much of the way Brie’s skin smelled.
She handed me a spoon and, without another word, dug into her own dessert. I watched raptly as she chewed and savored, eyes closing in bliss.
I loved that she loved her own food so much, that even sampling her own creations elicited this sort of reaction from her.
When her eyes popped open and she caught me staring, I didn’t look away.
“Aren’t you going to try it?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Sure.” I lifted the little plate from the counter and scooped off a spoonful of ice cream with the cobbler. Eyes never straying from hers, I opened my mouth and closed my lips around the bite. Immediately, a riot of sensations exploded on my tongue. The creaminess of the ice cream next to the rougher, crunchy granola topping. The warm, soft apples juxtaposed against the cold, frozen treat. Cinnamon and sugar and warm vanilla.
It was heaven on a spoon, and I couldn’t stop the groan that emanated from deep in my chest.
“Good?” Brie asked, her tone low and husky.
“Fucking amazing, Brie,” I said. “But you already knew that.”
She shrugged. “You know your opinion matters to me.”
“Still?” I asked, incredulous.
Another upward hitch of her shoulder. “Always.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I could only watch her, my eyes darting over her face, tracing every single one of her freckles, sweeping across every lash, searching for the falsity of her words.
All I found was the truth.
Unbidden, my hand reached out and tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. She leaned into my touch only slightly when my palm cupped her cheek, those emerald eyes tracking my every move. I didn’t miss the way her pulse strummed rapidly against the delicate skin of her neck, as though she was waiting.
I’d be an absolute fucking dumbass not to take the opening.
Shuffling forward a step, I closed the distance between us until our bodies almost touched, backing her against the counter. Each inhale had the tips of her breasts ghosting against my chest, and I sighed sharply through my nose, sliding my hand down her throat until it rested where her shoulder curved up to meet it.
She didn’t stop me as I leaned in…
But she turned her head at the last second so my lips collided with the soft surface of her cheek.
Eyes bright with an emotion I couldn’t name—pain? sadness?—Brie ducked away from me and stalked to the other side of the room, putting the island between us.
“I told you not to do that again.”
“You gave me a pretty big opening,” I pointed out. Then, softer, I added, “Why are you doing this to us?”
Brie was silent for painful, interminable moments. Did she…not want me? Had I so grossly misread the situation?
“It’s not that I don’t want you,” she said at last, answering the question I hadn’t asked aloud as she turned to face me. “I just…I can’t, Ez. Nothing has changed.”
“ Everything has changed, honey.” A gasp left her, and her hand flew to her mouth with the resurrection of the old nickname. “Your dad is no longer in charge at the winery, and Amara would be pretty hypocritical to fire me for hooking up with you when, for one, you don’t even work there, and two, she was sleeping with Calvin when she was still his boss.”
“I don’t want just a hookup, Ez,” she said softly. “You know that’s not my style.”
“But back then—”
“You knew I was going to ask for more that morning,” she protested, pointing a finger at me, her voice rising in volume, the sadness in her eyes flaring into anger. “That’s why you cut me off and ran away.”
I hung my head, sufficiently chastened. She wasn’t wrong.
“Things are different now.”
“How? What has changed exactly? Because from where I’m standing, you’re still the same man, and I’m still just some girl.”
“For starters,” I said, taking a tentative step around the island toward her. When she retreated, I stopped and rested my hands on the counter, my gaze locked on hers. “You’re not some girl . You’re a beautiful, talented, intelligent woman .”
Even back then, at twenty-two, she’d been more woman than girl, her head on straighter than most.
“Okay, fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m a beautiful, talented, intelligent woman . What about everything else? Or are you forgetting you have a son? That little boy who has to take priority over whatever this ”—she gestured between us—“is?”
“So you’re admitting there’s something here,” I said, unable to contain my grin.
Brie sighed, clearly exasperated. “That’s not the point, Ez.”
“Of course I’m not forgetting about Hansen,” I said. “But he’s older now. Five and in school full time. Plus, it’s been years since all the bullshit with Shannon. We’re both doing better, and he doesn’t need me as much.”
The realization honestly broke my heart, but my baby boy was becoming more self-sufficient by the day. He obviously wasn’t old enough to do things like cook for himself or drive him places, but even though he was only five, I was already dreading those days. The days when I’d have to let him go out into the world on his own and make his own memories and a life that no longer revolved around me.
He’d always be my baby boy, and I’d always be his father, but damn…watching him grow up and become this person who no longer needed me as much was so fucking bittersweet.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” she murmured, but the way she avoided eye contact with me told me she knew exactly what I was getting at .
We could no longer use Hansen as a buffer between us. My son could no longer serve as the reason we weren’t giving into this fucking pull to each other.
“The last two years have given me a lot of perspective on the things I want out of life.”
“Which is?”
“You. Just you. Always you.”
Maybe I was laying it on a little thick, but I didn’t know how else to be. I wanted her in ways I never imagined, in ways I never thought I’d be able to feel again after Shannon had slowly dismantled my heart and belief in love and romantic relationships. Since then, the love for my son and my father were the only kind I anticipated ever experiencing again.
And then this woman blew into my life, with her quiet beauty, those emerald green eyes that ensnared me every time I looked into them, how important her family was to her, and her passion and talent for her chosen craft—well, I was a fucking goner from the first moment I looked at her across the winery dining room.
I’d had her once, and I fucked it up.
I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
Brie leaned over, propping her elbows on the island and resting her head in her hands. When she spoke, her voice was muffled.
“I just don’t know if I can trust you.” She looked up at me again, those jewel-toned orbs shining.
“Then at least give me the opportunity to prove you can.”
Brie inhaled deeply, holding it in, her eyes closed, as though she was at war with herself about something and debating whether or not to share it .
When they popped open again, she breathed out and said in a rush, “In that case, there’s something I need to tell you. Something no one else knows. And you’re probably not going to like it.”
A test, then. I could handle that.
I gripped the edge of the counter to stop myself from reaching for her, to comfort her while she spilled this secret. “Okay…” I said slowly.
“That first time we slept together, I got pregnant.”
Three little words instantly transported me back to nearly seven years ago, when a different woman had come to me in a different kitchen on the other side of the country to tell me she was having my baby.
I willed myself to remain still, to process the words without any sort of reaction. Brie said no one else knew about this, and she clearly had a reason for that. I owed her the chance to explain.
“I—” I croaked out then cleared my throat and started again. “We don’t have a child.”
She shook her head sadly. “No.”
“What happened?” The softness of my tone surprised me, given the dangerous maelstrom of emotions swirling inside me.
Would I have been okay with another baby conceived accidentally and out of wedlock? With Brie, I think I would’ve been okay with anything, but it was hard to think straight through the blood roaring in my ears.
“I lost it,” she said quietly. “I found out that August—on my birthday, actually,” she added with a disbelieving chuckle. “I didn’t tell anyone. Just made an appointment with my doctor to figure out my options. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, least of all my own. But the day I went in for my first appointment and they sent me to the bathroom to pee in a cup…I was bleeding. My doctor confirmed I was miscarrying shortly after.
“It was…mortifying,” she continued, her cheeks reddening with the memory. “That I couldn’t even hang onto a pregnancy long enough to confirm it really existed. I just never told anyone, because how do you explain that to the people you love? A one-night stand turned accidental pregnancy turned miscarriage in the span of a few months? I couldn’t live with the disappointed looks my family would give me.”
“It wasn’t a one-night stand,” I breathed.
She looked up at me, eyes more vibrant thanks to the tears welling in them. “No? Then what was it?”
“God, Brie,” I said, at last giving up on holding myself back from her. I crossed the room in three long strides and gathered her into my arms, whispering into her hair, “It was everything.”
Her slim shoulders shook with a silent cry, and I clung tighter, holding us both together as best I could.
“It was everything to me too,” she whispered, the words pained.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Silence reigned for long moments as Brie pulled herself together, and when she spoke again, her words were hoarse.
“I knew what you’d gone through with Shannon. You’re a good man, Ezra. One of the best. And I know you would’ve once again done the thing you thought was expected of you. I never wanted to put you in that position. So while I hadn’t exactly made up my mind, I think I knew deep down that I was going to keep it. And when I did finally tell you, I wanted to give you the option to be in our child’s life…not make it feel like a requirement, another set of shackles holding you to a woman you didn’t want.”
Her words hit me like a shot straight to the heart. The situation was so similar to what happened with Shannon, yet vastly different.
She wasn’t wrong in assuming I would’ve done the right thing. My ill-fated marriage was proof of that. But what she failed to realize was that my relationship with Shannon didn’t hold a candle to the things I felt for Brie.
“It wouldn’t have been shackles, honey. Not with you. With you…it would’ve been wings.”
I pulled away and held Brie at arm’s length, reaching up to swipe my thumbs across her cheeks, collecting the moisture slipping down them.
“And I would’ve been there for you,” I vowed. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Brie gave me a watery smile then folded herself back into my arms.
And I couldn’t help thinking I’d passed her test.