CHAPTER 25
Emma
Seeing Jasmine and Finn eat with such delight brings me a lot of satisfaction.
It’s been a long time since I’ve baked from scratch, and never with such high-quality ingredients across the board.
I eat my omelet and muffin and have to say that if my arms were longer, I’d be patting myself on the back.
I prop my elbow on the table, rest my chin upon the heel of my hand, and just enjoy seeing them happy.
I’m pretty sure that this is what is meant by a family meal, what it’s supposed to be like.
Real food prepared by and for people who actually enjoy gathering around a table together.
A table where there’s laughter and compliments and appreciation.
What a joy it is to cook for those who notice the effort.
It’s sad to admit, but it’s my first time. In my life, I’ve prepared thousands of meals in cramped and dirty kitchens for tables full of assorted kids and adults, but they were never my family. Never a happy family. And definitely nothing anywhere near this delicious.
It was usually boxed macaroni and cheese, peanut butter on white bread, and cheap hot dogs cut up into cans of baked beans.
But I won’t ruin the good of this moment by comparing it to all the bad I’ve known.
There’s no point. What’s already happened can’t be changed. It just was, and now it’s over.
Behind me.
And I’m endlessly grateful.
I take a deep breath and tip my face to the sunshine. When I open my eyes again, I find Jasmine reaching into the muffin basket and Finn staring at me.
There it is again. The intense violet gaze and the serious brows. He’s looking at me like I’m the last muffin left on earth.
Uh-oh.
“This is the best coffee I’ve ever had in my life.” Finn says this to me in a flat voice. It’s as if he’s reaching for the right words—to be said in exactly the right way—so I have no room to misunderstand what he’s telling me.
It’s actually kind of cute. I never knew that a man can be smoking-hot and cute at the same time.
“It’s your coffee, Finn. Your coffee maker and your water.”
“But it’s never tasted like this before. I don’t understand how this can happen so fast—I mean, it’s so… hot… beautiful… good coffee.”
Jasmine looks up from her muffin.
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
Jasmine’s glancing between us. “Can you cook other delicious stuff, Emma?”
“I do really like to cook,” I say, feeling myself blush. I take a sip of my coffee.
“Like what?” Jasmine asks.
“Well, what are your favorite things to eat, I mean, besides pizza from the Pinata Parmigiana?”
“Their spaghetti?”
Finn and I laugh in unison. “How about things you can’t get there?”
“I like mashed potatoes.”
“Always a good choice. What else?”
“Sloppy Joes. And corn dogs. And chicken tenders.”
“How—”
“And French fries and grilled cheese and tacos, but not all at once.”
“That sounds—”
“And chocolate ice cream and cherry pie and chocolate chip cookies.”
I wait, because the last two times I tried to comment, she wasn’t done with her list. But now it seems she is.
“We can make some of those if you’d like, but can I propose that we make a deal?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What kind of deal?”
“That for each one of your favorite things, you’ll try one new food. So, let’s say I make chicken tenders one night. That means that the next night I would ask you to try something you haven’t had before.”
“You mean like asparagus? Because I saw that in the refrigerator, and I hate it and I’ll never eat it as long as I live.”
“Maybe we could start smaller.” I look up to see Finn smiling at us, his head tipped to the side.
“All right, gang.” He leans forward on his elbows. “We have to keep this our little secret.”
I’m not following him.
“Under no circumstances can this get out. Nobody at Yosemite Ranch can know about Emma’s talent in the kitchen. If they do, then we will never have a moment of peace over here. It’ll be like sharks prowling Santa Monica beach on Memorial Day weekend.”
I laugh.
“Oh, I’m not joking,” Finn says. “You haven’t met all my brothers. Let me assure you, the way they eat is no laughing matter.”
Jasmine giggles, but I watch as the humor in Finn’s expression fades. His eyes lock on mine, and the moment stretches into awkwardness.
We both freeze.
Until I break out of my trance and stuff more muffin in my mouth, just to have something to do.
As I chew, Finn points at a spot between my bottom lip and chin. “You’ve got a little…”
I use my napkin to swipe at the area he’s pointing to, but he shakes his head.
“Butter… better just… let me…” He extends one very long arm all the way across the bistro table and gently brushes the pad of his thumb near the corner of my mouth.
The touch is way too close to the nerve endings on my bottom lip, and it sends a lightning bolt of awareness through my body and right into my panties.
It’s everything I’ve ever fantasized about.
Better.
I close my eyes with pleasure, only to feel him withdraw his thumb like he’s just touched a hot stove.
My eyes fly open. The look on his face is one of torture. I’m embarrassed that he saw how much I liked it his touch.
We’re right back to the staring.
Uh-oh.
I clamp my thighs together, now worried that Jasmine is picking up on this. I shoot a quick glance her way, finding that’s she’s busy slapping more butter on a muffin.
Finn clears his throat and fiddles with a napkin, looking away for a moment. “Emma, I’m serious about my brothers. They can’t know.” Then he raises his eyes to me again.
“Sharks. Remember that. All MacLaine men are sharks.”