Chapter 14
“If you don’t set the table right this instant, I’m going to?—”
Liam waves his wife off. “We’re going, we’re going.”
“These men grumble about nothing but sports and farming.” Gabby chuckles to herself, but I know she doesn’t mean it harshly.
Gabby is my fierce sister-in-law, while Cass is soft and kind. Not that Gabrielle isn’t a good person to her core, but she’s more direct about things and keeps this family in line just like Alana does.
She’s been telling Patrick and Liam to set the table at my parents’ house for Sunday dinner since they all arrived at two p.m. It’s now three hours later, and my brothers are about to be in the doghouse if their wives have any say.
“You tell ’em, sis.” I bump my hip into hers as we stand at the island together.
She put together a seven-layer dip to go with the meal, and I’m whipping up my famous guacamole. It’s a recipe I developed while studying under a world-renowned chef in Mexico, which is why it’s on the menu tonight.
Several years ago, the four Ashton siblings agreed to have Sunday dinner with our parents. But the catch is that we can’t have Italian food. Of course, it’s what my mother and father would traditionally make at home, but we all ate and cooked so much of it at the restaurant growing up that we begged them to switch it up on Sundays.
Tonight’s dinner is from a local Mexican restaurant that makes burritos the size of my face. Their entrees are so delicious, I’ve been dreaming about this meal the entire week.
“Men.” She rolls her eyes but coos at her son, who is happily bouncing in a baby activity center in a corner of the kitchen. “But not you, my sweet boy.”
“Hey, don’t corrupt our son.” Liam comes in, grabbing Gabby around the waist and dipping her until she relents and kisses him with way too much tongue for a family hangout.
“Gross. You’ve gotten so sappy since you fell in love, Liam.” I make a gagging noise.
“And you have a stick up your a-s-s, Evan. Probably because you haven’t been properly loved.” He taunts me the way every older brother rags on their youngest one.
“Oh, I’ve been properly loved.” I smirk like the devil at him.
“There are children present,” Gabby tuts at me.
“Oh, like they know what sex is yet.” I roll my eyes.
“Says the guy who heard his parents doing the nasty.” Cass walks in, dropping that deadpan sentence in a way that makes my jaw drop.
“You’re spending too much time around this family, and I’m so proud of you.” Alana comes in after her, complimenting our most reserved sister-in-law for her savage comeback.
“They’re your in-laws, you know,” I sputter. “It should be just as gross to you.”
“I happen to hope that Patrick and I are just like them when we’re that age.” She winks at me, and Liam bursts into gravelly laughter.
“That we’re just like what?” Patrick comes into the kitchen now, confused about the topic of conversation.
“Knocking boots just like your parents do at their age.” Cass grins at her husband.
Patrick’s expression morphs into disgust. “Oh, babe, gross.”
I point at my brother. “Thank you!”
“Time for dinner, everyone!” Mom sticks her head in to wrangle us all to the table.
The doorbell rings as we shuffle into the dining room, and Mom asks me to get it before I sit.
The foyer is empty save for the sound of the baby’s noise machine coming from upstairs as I walk to my parents’ front door. Pulling it open, August is revealed, holding a bottle of wine with her blond curls floating around her.
“Hi.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face at her unexpectedly showing up.
“Oh, hi.” Her head tilts back a bit as if she didn’t expect me to answer the door.
An awkward beat passes before a gust of wind jogs my memory, and I motion her inside.
“I didn’t realize you were coming, or I would have offered to drive you.” I hesitate, wanting to touch the small of her back or take the sweater she’s just removed.
But we’re just friends. She drew the line, and I’m not crossing it. No matter the intense chemistry and tension floating between us whenever we’re in the same space; she made it clear that she isn’t looking for anything. Not a relationship, and I have a feeling that August isn’t the casual fling type of woman. Especially not with her roommate.
So, I keep my hands at my sides.
“Oh, it was kind of last minute. Your mom basically threatened to drive over to my house and deliver my food herself if I didn’t come to family dinner. So I felt bad that she’d be missing out on time with her own family. Thus, I’m here.” Her smile makes my heart thump.
Fuck, she’s so pretty. I notice it more and more as we spend time together. Just a flash of her in the house as she goes around the corner, and I want to follow her. It’s been a week since our near kiss, and I’m like a moth trying to stay the hell away from the flame.
“Mom will do that to you. Come on in. I was wondering why there was an extra quesadilla in the mix when I unloaded the takeout containers. No sour cream, huh?” I noted the preferences of everyone’s orders just because that’s how my brain processes food.
August sticks out her tongue. “No. It’s one of the only foods I won’t eat. The taste is so gross to me. I mean, think about the name, it literally means sour cream.”
I burst out a laugh. “Never thought about it that way, but you’re right. It doesn’t bother me, but I can see you wouldn’t like it.”
“It smells so good in here,” August remarks as she walks into the dining room in front of me.
“Ah, my girl!” Mom jumps up, pulling her in for a huge hug.
“Auggy!” Rebecca, my niece, claps her hands at the arrival of our guest.
I wasn’t aware that my niece even knew her or would be this excited to see her. She’s certainly never looked so pleased to have me in the room. That little pang of jealousy hits me, and I push it away.
“Perfect, a chair right next to Evan.” Cass smiles at August, and I swear I see something else in her expression.
August’s lips smash together, but she quickly makes her way to the chair next to me, and then the table erupts with conversation. Little hands flinging food, mothers scolding, words flying across the scarred and scratched tabletop that has seen one too many meals.
I eat in silence, savoring my food as I enjoy August’s company next to me. A lot of people would call me the family jester, the class clown, etc. But sometimes, I like just soaking in the chaotic scene when I’m with the people I love most.
“Ev, what have you been dreaming up at the restaurant?” Gabby asks from across the table.
Excitement stirs within me. There is nothing I love more than talking about recipes I’m working on.
“I’ve been developing this new spaghetti and meatball recipe I want to try. It’ll be gluten-free and cater to our vegetarian clientele, because we have more and more people coming in?—”
“Don’t mess with the meatball dish. It’s an original, one of your grandfather’s, and it’s tradition. Who the hell wants vegetarian meatballs? They’re not even meat!” Dad throws his hands up, his face pinched and annoyed.
“Thomas,” Mom scolds, giving me a sympathetic look.
She doesn’t have to pity me, though. I’ve been the punching bag for Dad’s disappointment far too many times in my life. If my siblings think he’s hard on them, he’s a thousand times worse to me. Because I’m the son who decided to take up his career, to follow in his footsteps. But I never did it the way he did, and he’s always resented me for that. The first five-star restaurant gig I scored, he told me I was cooking frou-frou food for spoiled rich people who couldn’t appreciate a good meal.
I didn’t care so much back then because I was half a world away, training or cooking in kitchens with so much pressure and discipline over my head that my father couldn’t even imagine it.
Now, though? I’m fucking exhausted by his anti-change attitude. He wants the restaurant run in the exact same way every generation before him ran it, and that’s just not going to cut it these days.
“Just because you didn’t change a single thing on the menu in your decades of being head chef doesn’t mean I can’t. You handed over the restaurant. To me. I’m in charge now. Which means I can make any damn change I like, especially if it benefits a large portion of our clientele who have been requesting more dietary and food allergy friendly options on the menu. You act like business hasn’t increased since I started running service!”
I’m so frustrated with his attitude these days that I can hardly sit in the same room as him.
“Evan, calm down. Dad is just—” Liam starts, but I throw him a glare. He shrugs me off and then stands to take his infant in the next room for a bottle.
On my right, I feel August’s hand against my leg. “What I think Evan means is that this is his time, and he’s doing a hell of a job, even if I only worked one shift. Customers were raving about the food, especially his new additions.”
“Auggy does make a good point. The new entrees are doing better than even some of our pies have been doing,” Patrick agrees.
But that only serves to annoy me more because no one in my family speaks up on my behalf until she says something.
“You would side with her without thinking about throwing weight behind me all on your own. Because God forbid what I say has any merit. No, it’s only worthy when August deems it so.”
My emotions are getting the better of me, but I can’t help it. Dad has been running riot with his opinions for years, being headstrong as fuck and not allowing any of us to truly stretch our wings. While my brothers and sisters have somewhat respected him through their own journeys, I can’t sit here and not run the restaurant the way I want.
It’s either that or I leave. But I’m not about to blow up this family dinner with that revelation.
Under the table, August pulls her hand off my leg like I’ve burned her. Great, now I’ve offended her. My jealousy, where my family and her are concerned, lashes out at certain times, even though none of it is her fault.
“Outside. Now.” Alana points to the back door, and I stand abruptly, my chair scraping the ground.
The night is dark and mildly cold as my temper rages outside, flickering just beneath my skin. Alana slams the door behind me, but I keep my gaze straight, looking out into the expanse of the acres.
She gives me a moment, then comes to stand beside me in silence. We’re the most alike, us two Ashton siblings. Where our brothers are more analytical and see things from a place of reason, we’re passionate and emotional.
“Dad is stubborn, kind of like someone else I know. It’s one of his greatest qualities and biggest weaknesses. He doesn’t bend to change easily, we all know this. It’s who he is. Does he need to work on it? Absolutely. But you also need to remember that’s your father in there. He is owed a hell of a lot of respect. It’s true, I’ve had my own tussles with him, and I always felt shittier after. Finally, sitting down with Dad, seeing where he’s coming from and then trying to change his view to the side you believe is right … that’s what adults do. Not blowing up family dinners or acting like a five-year-old. And definitely not throwing jabs at the sweet girl just trying to enjoy a nice night.” She raises an eyebrow at me.
Shame coats my throat. While I’m still pissed at Dad and want him to see it from my point of view without any growth or conversation, I know it won’t happen. I’m also feeling a hell of a lot of guilt for putting August in that position.
“It’s like, even with all of my experience, no one in this family takes me seriously. I came home to do a job you all asked me to do, but I’m being thrown obstacles left and right. Dad has zero faith in me, and it’s really starting to piss me off.”
“No one thinks that, come on.” Alana’s voice is softer than usual. “We all know how fucking talented you are. It’s just that things have always been the same here. And now they’re starting to change. Change is uncomfortable and takes time to get used to. We’re all coming around. But it has nothing to do with your abilities. I know that no one could take the restaurant into the future but you.”
“Does he know that?” My voice breaks a little, and I sound like the little boy just trying to impress his father.
At the end of the day, that’s all this is.
“Of course he does. It’s just buried deep under pride and the denial that he’s growing older,” she responds.
We stand in silence for a couple of minutes, and my temper has mostly subsided. I don’t feel like going back in there, but I know I need to.
“And what is going on with August?” She whips her head to me.
I thought the inquisition was over, but apparently, the women in this family are onto something I haven’t revealed.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t bullshit me. I’m your sister. I knew the moment you had a crush on Katie Sinclair in fifth grade. You can’t hide from me.”
The only indication I give that she’s guessed correctly is the raise of my eyebrow. I don’t need to kiss and tell to my sister. Or, well, not kiss and tell.
“If you’re not serious about this, Evan, don’t even give it a shot. August is a special girl. She’s been through hell and back. She needs stability, loyalty, someone who is going to be there for her for absolutely anything she needs. You didn’t know her mother. August’s trust isn’t easily won, and once you break it …”
My sister looks deep into my eyes, and I try not to blanch. I don’t want to make the regular excuses that I’m a young guy and have no idea what I want for the future. But … I’m a young guy and have no idea what I want for the future. Am I attracted to August? Hell, yes. Do I want to get naked with her? Absolutely. Do I also like her mind and conversation? Yes, to that, too.
But I have no idea if I can be all those things. Maybe? If we hang out for a while and it develops, then maybe. But I’m not looking to put a ring on anyone’s finger, and if Alana is saying that’s what it will take, then I’m not going to cross that line.
“Noted.”
What started as a nice night, with a pleasant surprise from August showing up, has gone to shit. My emotions got the better of me, and now I’m even more sullen than I was when I returned home to take over the restaurant. The thought that I made the wrong decision coming back to Hope Crest isn’t one I have often anymore.
But on days like today? Yeah, I question if this is where I’m supposed to be.