Chapter 32
“Ithought we weren’t supposed to have Italian on Sundays,” Gabby quips as she gets the kids settled with crayons, toys, and snacks at a smaller table next to the long one Liam is currently setting.
“I mean, technically, Evan didn’t say Italian, he just told us he wanted to host it here instead of at the house.” Patrick shrugs.
“Has he let anything slip to you?” Alana asks me.
I shake my head. “Not a peep. I have no idea what he’s been up to, but he’s been in that kitchen all hours of the last two days.”
“Maybe he’s had a breakdown and can’t cook anymore.” Liam grins like a devil.
Leona taps him gently on the back of the head. “Don’t even joke about that. Your brother is a genius with a gift.”
“How come she never calls us geniuses with gifts?” Patrick wiggles his eyebrows at his brother.
“You two, pipe down. August was telling me about the inn.” Thomas rolls his eyes at his sons and then winks at me.
In the last week, I’ve signed on to be the manager of the inn, my mother’s house was listed, and Alana proposed that Evan should buy her house, the one we’ve been living in. All of that combined should be overwhelming, but it feels like such a long time coming that I’m coping quite well.
After I told Evan I was staying, and he took me home to thoroughly celebrate that … naked, we let the rest of the family know in a mass group text. There were so many questions and congratulations flying around that I still need to read through them, but that’s all to say that they’re thrilled. Sitting in this dining room with all of them feels so extraordinarily right, and for the thousandth time, I’m reaffirmed that I made the right decision.
“We are meeting with contractors next week and, of course, need to file all kinds of permits now that the sale went through. It’s going to be a long process, but the Ashton Inn will be up and running at some point.”
“If she has her way, we’re aiming for next year. August cracks the whip like no one I know,” Warren says proudly.
“I just know exactly what I want and what will work for guests,” I respond sheepishly because, truth be told, I can be a little anal about timelines.
“That’s a good characteristic to have in business. It will take you far.” Thomas winks at me again. “I for one, will be the first guest there.”
“I’ll make the reservation now.” I smile at him.
The kitchen doors swing open, and Evan strolls out, stealing my breath momentarily like he has every time I’ve seen him since I was a teenager. That cocky little swagger, the secret smile he sends me, makes me fall in love all over again.
“You going to let us in on your big secret now?” Alana baits him, knowing he wanted to make a grand entrance and stealing a little of that.
He rolls his eyes at her but stays silent until the whole table turns to him. I truly have no idea what he’s about to say, but my stomach bubbles with nerves at the possibilities. This summer has been unlike anything I could have imagined; Evan and I became everything I’ve always dreamed of to each other. In the past week, we’ve had talks about legally owning the house together, coordinating our work schedules, and which bedroom we’d make our own. The guest room has become just that. Yesterday, Evan surprised me with a hiking date that ended at a waterfall. We ended the early evening by shucking off our clothes and impulsively jumping in.
He’s my better half, always challenging my vulnerabilities in the best way while also championing me through everything. I love that he keeps me on my toes, which is why my skin buzzes with excitement at what he might reveal right now.
“As you all know, before I came home to be the head chef here at Hope Pizza, I had a pretty illustrious career.” He puffs out his chest with faux ego, and his brothers boo him.
“Yeah, yeah, jealousy doesn’t look good on you two.” He’s teasing them, but I have to roll my eyes at his bravado. “Anyway, while I love being home and helming the family fort, I’ve been missing something. The creativity of working in different kitchens, of creating dishes with odd ingredients or seasonal flavors … well, I miss that. But something sparked an idea recently, and I couldn’t rest until I fleshed it out.”
Confusion clouds me, and a little bit of panic settles in my gut. Is he saying he’s not happy here after I decided to stay?
Evan doesn’t miss a beat. “For the last two days, I’ve been in this kitchen day and night, dreaming up a menu and executing it. It’s new age, American fair with a comfort food twist. Think steak and potatoes but elevated, with the most delicious garnishes you could think of. Working on this, I felt like I was in a fever of creativity, and it’s why I know this restaurant will thrive.”
“This restaurant?” Thomas points to the floor of his family’s long-standing establishment, and I know he’s trying not to comment negatively on this little pitch of Evan’s.
My boyfriend shakes his head, and color me even more confused.
“I’ve always wanted to be a restauranteur, and to own a place, or several, of my own. While I’m the head chef here, this is our family’s place. A legacy that I’m proud to be a part of. But with August revamping the inn, well … I wanted something that could be ours. She doesn’t know this yet, because I’ve been pretty close to the vest with this one, but I’m officially throwing my hat in the ring to design the menu and concept of the restaurant at the Ashton Inn. It’s why I’ve called you all here today, to taste test the sample menu I’ve created.”
A few excited gasps and affirmations are murmured around the room.
Now, he turns and talks directly to me. “When you told me you were staying, I was over the damn moon. It took so much courage and strength to figure out where you truly wanted to be, and it was so inspiring. I want to be at the inn with you as much as I can, working side by side to make it the best possible getaway for your guests. I hope this is okay, and that I’m interviewing like this, because I just want to make you proud. And I really, really want this restaurant. The food is going to knock your socks off.”
I don’t even need to think about it. He went through all this trouble, set this all up, and wants to impress his family so that we can build yet another thing together. There is only one answer.
“Of course it’s yours.” I nod, tears in my eyes.
“Don’t you have to clear that with me first?” Warren pipes up.
“Shush, I’m the boss.” I don’t even bother looking at him.
“See, she’s a cutthroat businesswoman. I’m so proud,” Thomas chimes in. “Now, let’s taste this menu. I’m damn excited.”
“Calm down, honey. You have to watch your salt intake,” Leona reminds him, and he groans.
“Just one meal, woman. My son cooked for his family.”
I watch the look between Evan and his father and want to burst into tears all over again. They’ve come so far, we all have, and being able to have moments like these is everything I’ve ever dreamed of when I thought of family.
Evan jogs over to me and bends, pressing a swift kiss to my lips.
“One for good luck,” he whispers in my ear before straightening and walking backward to the kitchen. “All right, who’s hungry?”
A rumble of responses comes from the group, but I stay quiet. While I’m a part of them now, sometimes I just want to be a silent observer of these people I love so much.
Because I know, for sure now, that I’m never letting them go.