Chapter 20 #2
“I miss you too momma. We’ll do lunch. Just us.”
A laugh slipped through the phone. “I feel special. Now go on, finish cooking. And Taylor? Just ‘cause you got divorced don’t mean Jesus divorced you.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll be there Sunday.”
“Ok bye. Love you.”
“Love you. Bye. ”
After they hung up, she took a deep breath, wiped at her face, and refocused.
The timer beeped, pulling her back to the meal in front of her.
She whipped the potatoes with butter and roasted garlic until they were creamy and decadent.
The asparagus went into the oven, drizzled with olive oil and sea salt, and other seasonings.
Finally, she seared the lamb chops, the scent of rosemary and garlic filling the air.
With everything nearly ready, she dimmed the lights and set the table with her good dishes. Candles flickered against the dark wood, a fresh bouquet adding to the final touch.
Brooks would be here soon. She couldn’t wait to see his face when he walked through the door. The thought of seeing him caused her to bite her lip.
She took a quick shower, the hot water relaxing and causing her to exhale. When she stepped out, she moisturized, letting the vanilla-scented lotion sink into her skin. She decided on one of the outfits from Denver, a burgundy wrap dress. He was going to have his eyes on her all night..
She was adding her final touch of gloss when she heard his voice downstairs.
“Tay?”
She smiled, inhaled deeply, and exhaled to calm the butterflies. This was her night, her grand gesture, her showing him that she wasn’t running. Just pacing herself.
Brooks stepped inside and was immediately hit by the scent of something rich and savory. His stomach growled in approval, but then he heard the low hum of Anita Baker playing through the house, and his attention shifted entirely.
Then, he saw her.
Taylor stood by the stairs, illuminated by candlelight, wearing the dress he picked out in Denver, the one that made his hands itch to touch her. His mouth went dry.
“What the hell did I do to get so lucky?” His voice was rough with admiration as he took a slow step forward.
Taylor turned slightly, her smile soft, teasing. When she saw the bouquet of roses in his hand, a slow grin appeared on her face.
No matter how far she’d come, he still had a way of making her pause—reminding her that love could be consistent, protective, and present. He came into her life when she needed more than words, and gave her action.
The feeling was mutual.
“These are for you,” he said, closing the space between them, handing her the flowers. “But I see you already got everything looking perfect. That includes you.”
She took them, breathing in the scent before glancing up at him.
His voice dropped. “When my woman cooks for me, least I can do is bring her flowers.”
His woman. Taylor held her breath and smiled.
Brooks grinned, claiming her with words but putting them into action was becoming his favorite pastime.
“Now,” he murmured, eyes dark with intent. “What’s for dinner?”
A soft laugh slipped out. “Is that all it takes to impress Brooks Bishop? Home cooking?”
“Nah.” His eyes held hers, serious despite his smile. “But you in this outfit with your toes out that’s doing things to me.”
“Good things, I hope.”
“The best things.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that shattered his world.
Her tongue tasted like wine, full-bodied, rich, and grown.
He’d turned her into a wine connoisseur without even meaning to, and he loved that.
It took everything in him to pull back before he forgot all about dinner.
“You taste good.”
“Wait until you taste the food,” she teased, a little breathless as she stepped back.
“Fuck the food,” he murmured, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips.
Taylor blushed, and said “Always ready to go, just mannish. Let me feed you first at least.”
“Then what?” His eyes held a promise that made heat pool low in her belly.
“Then dessert,” she replied with a wink, her own gaze equally suggestive.
He winked back at her before heading to wash his hands, already planning how he’d thank her properly after dinner.
“I miss Denver,” she said breathlessly as they sat at the table, plates nearly empty.
“Let’s go.” He didn’t hesitate. “I can take you back tonight if that’s what would make you happy.”
A laugh slipped from her as she touched his hand. “I know you would. But no… I guess it’s just special to me. It’s where I really felt like I shed my dead weight.”
“We’ll go back,” he promised, turning his hand to capture hers. “Whenever you want.”
“I’d love that.” She squeezed his fingers, marveling at how easily he offered her the world.
Taylor toyed with her wine glass, watching the candlelight dance through the deep red liquid. They’d finished dinner, the empty plates pushed aside as they lingered at the table, knees touching beneath it. The evening had been perfect the food, the conversation, the vibes.
But there was something she needed to say and even though she’d initially decided not to mention his sister, she’d changed her mind.
“Blake called earlier,” she said, keeping her voice even despite the tightness in her chest. “She went the hell in on me. I didn’t even have a chance to respond. You told her without me?”
Brooks raised an eyebrow, took a sip of wine. “I uh… meant to warn you. It’s my fault the plan to tell her together didn’t work out. It was an accident.”
“It’s okay. It’s out now. I don’t care how it happened.”
“I started talking too much and our pillow talking exposed us.” He grinned slightly. “She mad at us?”
“She was, yeah. But we worked through it for now of course. Blake just needed to be brought up to speed on everything. And honestly? We were wrong for hiding it this long.”
“I disagree, but I know y’all women different.”
“How so?”
“We grown. She didn’t need to know shit. Her opinion wouldn’t have changed anything for me. I’d still be digging in them guts no matter what Blake had to say. ”
“Brooks,” Taylor said, gently but firmly.
He raised a brow.
“Now you know that’s not fair.” She leaned in a little. “You can’t ask for grace and privacy in your love life and then turn around and judge hers. You got your happiness, you got me. And she’s finding hers. With Emon. She deserves that just as much as you do.”
He didn’t say anything at first, and she didn’t let up.
“Your sister spent a long time focusing on her education, no pregnancy scares, she’s made the deans list almost every semester.
Your sister has sacrificed her twenties to better herself.
And I know you love her, I know you’re just being protective.
But love ain’t love if it only makes room for your version of what’s right. ”
Taylor reached across the table and covered his hand again.
“You don’t need her approval to be with me.
Just like I don’t. But… we owe her enough respect not to act like she needs ours.
” Taylor wasn’t letting herself off the hook.
She had apologized and owned up for her judging.
She was going to make Brooks do the same.
Brooks nodded slowly, the edge softening in his expression.
“You right.”
“I usually am,” she teased lightly, but her tone stayed steady. “Let her be, Brooks. She’s good. You’re good. We’re good.”
He smirked and pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. “You always know how to check me just right.”
“And you always know when to listen.”
They smiled at each other, a little quieter now. But the truth had been said. And that kind of truth only made space for more love, not less.
Brooks pulled her onto his lap, one hand settling on her waist. “You giving me permission to be happy, Taylor Bradshaw?”
“Do you need it?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Nah.” His thumb traced her jawline. “But I need you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”
“Good.”
Brooks stood, lifting her with ease. “Now about that dessert you promised...”
Taylor laughed as he carried her toward the stairs, candles still flickering behind them.
It wasn’t what she planned.
It was better.