Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Elise
T he last time I’d had fun at work like I had this morning was before I ever officially opened Glazed.
Before I’d allowed Callum to invest. Before I’d realized how hard I’d have to work to make ends meet in the off-season. Before I’d discovered how desperately I wanted to quit my day job and just run the shop and yet had to accept it wasn’t about to happen any time soon.
Today, with Luc, I’d felt… happy.
Honestly, truly, happy. And it wasn’t because he magically swooped in and solved all the problems. His showing up had been a godsend for sure, but he messed up ringing up Chief Whitacker and forgot how to void something… in short, he was human. And it was completely perfect.
Because instead of complaining or getting mad at me when he made a mistake, he asked for help. He apologized, but not so much that it made me feel bad for needing to correct him. He just… functioned like a human being who was learning something new. He admitted when he’d messed up and he did his best to fix it.
He stepped in when it felt like my whole day was melting down and proved my choice to admit I wanted more with him the night before had been right. Because a man like this? A man who’d show up for me and even call out of his own work, potentially at the risk of his bosses getting mad at him?
That was a good man. I’d known Luc was, but he kept proving it.
And sure, Bruce and Wilder were unlikely to be mad at him—from what I understood, Saint Security didn’t function that way. And yes, my bar had been programmed to be set at the lowest possible rung thanks to my past relationship.
Still.
Luc was good to me, and I dared say, for me. Instead of letting me get spun up and sob all over his shirt, he dove in. He steadied me in a stressful time. He refused to let me creep out and help him when a rush popped up right before closing, insisting he could handle it and that I needed to focus.
He was right. And while I was back there, sure that if he ran into a problem he’d holler and I could decorate the special order just the way I’d envisioned, there it was. That joy I hadn’t felt in far too long. A pleasure at creating delicious things for someone, a delight in the simplicity of the work.
Closing came and he appeared in the kitchen, set a soft kiss to my lips, gave me a heated look that made my toes curl, and left for work.
Liz waved outside the door as I moved to lock it behind him, so I yanked it open. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“Got any leftovers?” she asked, face alarmingly blank.
I narrowed my eyes. “Three options. All yours if you want. But… why the spy face?”
A small smile broke through then. “Spy face? I feel like that’s an insult.”
She followed me behind the counter and into the back, washing her hands at the sink after I did. As we dried, I explained. “It’s just that look you have when you’re keeping everything close to the vest.”
One brow raised. “One could also call that donut maker face .”
“Touché. But I’ve been working on that.” Her awareness of my cagey tendencies, even after only a few months of knowing me, should’ve caused me the usual combination of hurtful pride and shame, but instead I just felt grateful she got it.
“I’m just here to check in. The fake engagement thing is coming to an end and I’m wondering what’s next.”
I held out a tray of three donuts and she picked one, promptly taking a large bite.
“Are you the emissary for everyone?” I asked, strongly suspecting she somehow got put up to this. Not that she wouldn’t come on her own, but Dove was running around working three jobs, cleaning out her house, managing her grandmother, and probably six other things I had no idea about.
She shoved another portion into her mouth and chomped down, once again giving me spy face.
“Okay. Well. I’m good. I feel…” I looked around at the sparkling industrial kitchen where I’d just spent the morning working on the special order boxed on one of the steel worktables. My heart felt peaceful and hopeful and all kinds of things I hadn’t felt at work in so long, let alone about someone else. Especially a man. “I feel hopeful.”
She chewed her last bite and raised a brow.
“I just mean, I’m enjoying time with him. And that’s progress for me. So even if this thing crashes and burns, it’s been good for me. A good experiment.” There’d be fallout, but I would handle it. I’d gotten stronger, hadn’t I?
She brushed off her fingers and dabbed the napkin I handed her to her lips. “That’s fantastic. Can I completely overstep and say something weird?”
“Uh, sure?” She was pretty straightforward, so I couldn’t deny her. Plus… what on earth would she say?
“I’ve taken a chance on being with someone for… a time. I convinced myself it’d be fun while it lasted. That I’d walk away unscathed and grateful when the time came.”
Her eyes zeroed in on mine and I swallowed hard when she said, “That man, as you know, was Kenny.”
I nodded, not sure what to say. She praised the glorious donut and accepted the other two to hand out at work when she returned. We hugged, and I locked the door behind her.
And I didn’t cry. Because she and Kenny weren’t me and Luc, and that was okay. They were something magic, something meant to be like a romance novel, and our little trial had been a fleeting thing. A shooting star compared to a constellation.
I’d made huge strides in several ways during this bizarre period with Luc, and I didn’t want to feel bad about that. I didn’t want to dread how horrible it’d feel when that “for now” ended. I couldn’t.
And so I decided not to.
* * *
Now I paced his living room having thought of him obsessively all day and wished we’d had a few more minutes before we had to rush out the door to yet another Devereaux family dinner.
We needed a moment to ourselves and yet we wouldn’t have it until after dinner at the soonest. Michele and Aurelie would ride with us, and he’d walked in from work ten minutes ago, delivered a devastating smile, and jumped in the shower with a, “I’ll be ready in ten.”
Right on time, he exited the bathroom in yet another gorgeous suit, this time with a deep navy hue. I shifted in my heels, restless and almost aching for time with him. We needed to talk—about this morning, about last night, about… everything. Liz’s caution, or testimony, or whatever it had been was ringing in my ears. And yet, I also just wanted to rip his suit off and have my way with him.
So. Yeah.
“Elise, you look incredible.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek.
“You do, too.”
Our gazes caught, and like I’d come to expect, awareness sizzled through me. He swallowed, his thick throat bobbing.
“I enjoyed working for you today.”
For some stupid reason, the for gave me a thrill. “Are you considering a career change? I hear donuts are a typical career path for veterans.”
A half-smile creased his left cheek. “Maybe. Or perhaps I’m now even more keenly aware how lucky I am to be yours.”
To be yours.
Air rushed out of me and my stomach swooped. To be yours. Not a claiming, but an offering. Not ownership of me but this alternate willingness to be mine.
At least for now.
A longing so fierce and unfamiliar gripped me hard enough I had to breathe through it.
His brow furrowed. “What is it?”
How could I explain what his words meant? What his entire approach to being with me meant? How much I wanted this to extend past this moment, this evening, this agreement, and into the future?
“Nothing, I just?—”
“ Allons-y! Grand-père will be a bear if we’re late to dinner with his fancy friends.” Aurelie slipped a small clutch over her wrist and held out a hand, which Michele clasped without stopping and then rushed to the door.
“What were you saying?” Luc asked quietly, apparently entirely unaffected by his family’s arrival.
“Luc! Let’s go!” Aurelie hustled out the door with Michele, who made a “what can you do?” face as he went, hollering something to us in Italian.
Luc responded with a quick few words I didn’t know and were, I was fairly certain, also in Italian.
Because of course this man spoke more than just English and French. Two languages would be practically lazy and here he was, tossing out a third like it was an old penny he’d forgotten about in a pocket.
“Elise, if what I said upset you, I’m sorry.”
He stood rigid in front of me, and the concern in his face and voice finally registered.
I reached for him, grasping his hand and savoring how warm he always was. “No. I’m not upset.”
Come on. Woman up! Be bold! You don’t have to be a coward. Let yourself be brave!
“You’re certain? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I thought we were on the same page, but we’ve hardly spoken since last night and not about anything?—”
He blinked down at me while my hand covered his mouth.
“I promise you I’m not uncomfortable. I was thinking how much I liked you saying you’re mine.” I huffed, nerves lighting up my belly, but excitement, too, as I admitted, “I loved it.”
There. I wouldn’t caveat it. I simply did. And I didn’t feel like shutting it down, all these good feelings, with the harsh reality of an ending. So I wouldn’t say “mine for now.”
The muscles in his face moved, and I could sense his smile blooming. Right as I removed my hand so I could see it, too, he caught it and pressed a kiss to my palm.
“That’s good news.”
“I thought so. Hoped so.” Why did I feel shy? How did he manage to say he was mine but then make me feel so… so giddy and shy?
Outside, we heard Aurelie calling both our names.
He shook his head. “We should go. But could we plan to go to bed early tonight? Take some time before we’re too tired to talk and…”
Oh, the things my mind wanted to fill into the blank were many. I knew what he meant, though, and it wasn’t anything as sexy as I might’ve liked. Instead, it was exactly what we needed , and that fit.
“Yes. Please,” I said, and we walked hand in hand out to the car while my mind sifted through a cascade of thoughts.
I hadn’t wanted anyone. It’d been a long time since I’d let myself need anyone, especially a man. But what settled into my heart as we drove to dinner was the simple realization that Luc had been giving me what I needed and what I wanted.
And without knowing it, it was quickly feeling like I needed and wanted him.