29. Soft Serve Conversations #2
She watches me closely. “Well, the least I can do now is tell you that if you need space, time...you got it, Aaron. But when you’re ready to talk to about this totally casual woman you blush over, I’d be happy to lend an ear.”
I’m a piece of shit, aren’t I?
Here she is, telling me how much she values our friendship, and I’m putting it on the line like she doesn’t mean a thing to me. I’m putting her husband’s business in danger.
I swallow hard. “Hammond was your dad on top of everything else, but...you understand that gratitude, that respect you feel for the person who taught you everything you know about cooking.”
She nods, eyes crinkling at the sides.
“Then you know how I feel about you.”
She reaches out, squeezing my arm before she shifts back into the familiar, confident Amelie. “So you approve? Artisanal ice cream is going on the menu?”
“Hell yes.”
“Great.” She grins, grabbing my empty bowl and setting it in the sink with hers. “Maybe you’d be open to teaching the cooks?”
Me? Teaching Daisy’s professional chefs? “You know I’d do anything for you, but?—”
“Then it’s settled.” She presses her lips together, clearly deciding whether to say more. Finally, a barely concealed squeal escapes her. “Okay, okay. There’s something else I need to tell you.”
I arch a brow. “All right.”
“You know Rhett?”
Her sous-chef? Yeah, of course.
“He’s quitting. His wife got a job in Mayfield, and he’s going to work for a friend of mine.”
“Oh, wow,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“Yes, I had a meltdown for a while. But then I figured...maybe it’s for the best, because there’s this guy I know who’d be perfect for the job.”
I blink. Me ? Amelie’s sous-chef?
She bites her bottom lip. “What do you think?”
“I...” I think it’s insane. I don’t have the experience for a role like that. Hell, I’ve been professionally cooking for a handful of weeks. “I thought you said a restaurant kitchen is like a dance, and I didn’t know the steps. I don’t want to mess up your choreography.”
She grins. “I did say that. Then I sent you to take that course. Aaron, I’ve always known you have incredible talent, you only lacked the basics. But you don’t anymore. And honestly, you’re wasted as a private chef. You’d probably be wasted at Daisy too, because you could land far bigger jobs.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“Which is why I can’t pass up the chance to have someone like you in my kitchen.” For a moment, she looks nervous. Really nervous. “Tell me you’ll think about it.”
“Of course I will.”
I’d be crazy not to.
“Aaron!”
Primrose’s voice rings out as soon as I step out of the car. She moves down the porch steps with an easy grace, her blonde and pink hair pulled into a loose ponytail, strands escaping to frame her face. Despite the exhaustion she must be battling, she still radiates warmth.
“Hey, Prim.” I meet her halfway, pulling her into a firm hug. She smells like wild strawberries, a scent that always lingers around their house. “You look good.”
“I feel good—tired, but good,” she says as she pulls back. “Let me tell you, twins are no joke.”
“Oh, I bet.”
When my gaze flicks toward the house, her shoulders roll back. “I hope you’re not here to see the girls. Your mom just got them to fall asleep, and if you wake them up, I’ll have to kill you.”
I make a pfft sound. “Show up without warning? I’m a parent too, you know.”
“Right, right.” She clicks her tongue. “Oh, Logan isn’t here. He’s...” She waves a hand. “Dealing with some stubborn peppers, whatever that means.”
“That’s fine. I’ll just try his phone.”
She nods but doesn’t walk away. Instead, she keeps watching me, her expression expectant.
“What?”
“Are you here to say yes?”
My brows knit. “I think Logan already proposed to you.”
She waves me off. “To being his best man.”
Oh. Heat pricks at the back of my neck. He wants me to be his best man?
Primrose doesn’t seem to notice my hesitation and barrels on. “I mean, I know the wedding is just in a few days, but it won’t be a big deal. All you’d have to do is show up on the day and, you know, have fun.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.
“We’re having it here,” she continues when I’m silent. “And I’m not even wearing white. He’s probably going to be in his boots—god knows I can’t get him to wear anything else—and?—”
She cuts herself off as realization dawns. “Oh no. He didn’t ask yet, did he?”
“Uh . . . no. Not really.”
She tilts her head back to the late afternoon sky as if praying for patience. “I thought—ugh, I’m so sorry. It’s the sleep deprivation. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine.”
“Yeah? You look...” She squints, searching for the right word before finally giving up with a shrug.
“I’m just surprised. I figured he’d ask Kyle, or?—”
“You’re his brother,” she says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
But it’s not .
I’m his brother, and I betrayed him. I hurt him. And he’s been hurting me ever since.
Our relationship has never been as bad as it is now, and the last real conversation we had ended with me telling him I was out. He called me a coward—someone he can’t trust. And now he wants me to be his best man? It makes no sense.
Her gaze turns warm. “You know I wasn’t your biggest fan for a while back there,” she admits.
“But I also don’t think you should carry all this blame.
So you fucked up. Big deal. Everyone fucks up once in a while.
And Josie was there too, you know? She gets half the blame.
Everyone keeps acting like you stole her from Logan, but she let herself be stolen.
I dare you to do it with me and see what happens. ”
“I’d much rather prefer he didn’t,” Logan’s voice cuts in.
He strides toward us, his assessing eyes locked onto mine. He moves behind Primrose, looping an arm around her waist and pressing a loud, exaggerated kiss to her cheek until she giggles. “Are you absolving my brother of his sins, Barbie?”
“Hm-mm. You should have done it already.” She taps his chest, then with one last look at me, disappears inside the house.
Logan leans against my car, crossing his arms. “So,” he says, voice measured. “What brings you into this neck of the woods?”
I shift my weight from foot to foot. “Mom asked me to bring these over.”
He grabs the cufflinks, smirking. He probably figured out just like I did that Mom used this cufflinks excuse to get us together. I guess that’s what I deserve for checking on her.
“Thanks.” He watches me with that piercing stare, the one that makes me feel like he’s peeling back layers, like he can see straight through me and all the tangled-up mess inside.
Maybe this was a mistake.
Maybe I should have told Mom to bring him the cufflinks instead.
“Amelie offered me a job,” comes out in a breath.
He looks impressed. “Is she trying to poach you from her husband?”
“Oh, I think Ian’s been made aware. He’s physically incapable of saying no to his woman anyway.”
A hint of a smile on his lips. “That I get.”
Yeah, me too.
“So what’s the job?”
“Sous-chef.”
“Wow, that’s . . . that’s like the head chef’s right hand, isn’t it?”
I nod. “Yes, I’d work right beside Amelie. She says I’m talented. Really believes it too.”
He shuffles his feet. “Well, congratulations. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.” When he doesn’t add anything, I step back. “I’ll see you at the wedding then.”
“Aaron?”
I turn to him. “Yeah?”
He rolls his sleeves up. “I wanted to...I guess I have to find a—” He cuts himself off with a groan. “The wedding is in three days, and?—”
“You want me to be your best man?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Me? Really? Maybe he’s doing it for Mom. Or to maintain appearances. But whatever is his reason, I’d do it anyway. “You got it.”
For a moment, he just stares at me, like he doesn’t quite believe it’s that simple. Then, awkwardly, he nods and looks away. “All right. Cool.”
I round the car, but his voice halts me once again. “Will you take it? The job?”
Oh, I don’t think that matters. Once I come clean about Charlotte, Amelie will take her offer back, possibly smack me, and I won’t work for her nor her husband. It’s either that or losing Charlotte.
There’s no winning either way—it’s just about deciding what I want to lose. What will break a smaller piece of me.
“Wow, that’s a record pause.”
“I’m still thinking about it, I guess.”
“Well, you take your time.” He scratches the side of his neck. “I’m sure whatever you choose will be the right thing. I, uh...trust you.”
I tilt my head. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since now .” He glares, but I’m going to need a little more information about his sudden change of heart. “You’re right. You’ve done everything you can to prove yourself. You’re the best father Sadie could ask for, you’re there for Mom, for me. For everyone.”
“But you still can’t forgive me,” I conclude in his place.
He kicks some dirt with his boot. “I realized I won’t be able to forgive you until I actually try.”
I swallow. “And what does trying look like?”
“I don’t know yet.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “But I know that just pretending nothing happened...it’s not working. For me. For us. And for our kids.”
Something sharp twists in my chest.
“They deserve better,” he continues. “They deserve what we had. A big family, Sunday lunches. They should get the best version of us. I don’t want my daughters growing up thinking their dad and uncle barely tolerate each other. That’s not the kind of family I want for any of us.”
“Me neither.”
Eyes on the ground, he continues. “So, I guess this is me saying...I don’t want to keep doing this.
Being this.” His hand gestures between us.
“It’s not me forgiving you overnight. It’s not us being best friends again, because I don’t know if we’ll ever get there.
” A pause, heavy and raw. “But I want to try. You’ve been trying for years, and it’s my turn to trust you now.
With your job, with Cherry, with...everything. You know what’s best for you.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “That’s all I’ve wanted since day one.”
Logan scoffs lightly, shaking his head. “Well, I’m not the best at handling emotions.”
“You weren’t the best. You’ve improved quite a bit.”
He lifts his chin. “Thank you. So have you.”
My shoulders relax as if I lost the hundred-pound weight pressing on them.
“So . . . dinner next week?”
It’s so normal that it knocks the air out of me.
“Yeah,” I manage. “Dinner next week.”