Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Noa
C hristmas carols play on an incessant loop at Saint’s restaurant, even though it’s long over.
At first, I loved the nostalgia the music brought as well as the new enjoyment hearing them all in French gave me. But on the fourteenth run of the playlist and when closing up the restaurant, I’m done with it all.
I’m one of three people willing to stay late, now the last. Marcel bids me adieu on his way out, eager to get home to his family.
Saint is remarkably fair to his staff, paying us overtime for after-hours work while he’s returned to his family.
His salty nature isn’t in keeping with a gesture so kind, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth while he works me to the ground and makes sure I understand every aspect of the kitchen before releasing me into culinary school.
Once Marcel leaves, I dart to the stereo and turn the music off. The resulting silence is a balm on my ears, the soft traffic seeping through the chilled window front as I turn down lights and turn the last of the chairs over.
Saint’s benevolence doesn’t end with a commis chef position in his kitchen.
His apartment is also available because of his mysterious move to Falcon Haven, and he offered it to me, so long as I house-sit his plants appropriately.
The large, vacant interior would be incredibly lonely had I not brought Moo along with me.
He’ll be waiting with his tail puffed in aggravation and a prissy look on his face when I return to him tonight.
Moo hasn’t gotten over the indecency of a long flight where not only did we have to fly in economy, but he also had to stay in his carrier for the entire six hours.
With Moo in mind, I pocket the remaining sardines that lay fresh and unclaimed in the freezer. I do a last once-over of the kitchen, and, satisfied, I head to the entrance, the key ring jingling in my hand.
My steps stall, then come to a complete stop when I notice a large, bulky figure on the other side of the door.
One with startlingly blue eyes, even at night.
It takes time for my brain to come to terms with who it is. Time enough for the man to press his palm to the window, the heat of his hand condensing into a temporary handprint as he mouths, “ I’m sorry. ”
My breaths were falling naturally until my mind shouted his name. Then they stuttered, gasped, and I choked on wordless anguish until my body knew enough to burst forward and unlock the door.
Stone pushes at the same time I pull, bringing the cold night in with him. A black beanie rests tight against his ears and forehead, and he’s pulled his coat’s collar to protect him from the Parisian winter. His cheeks are flushed red, his eyes blazing, as he shadows my form in a single step.
“Lavender,” his voice scratches out.
Tears brim as I look up at him.
“William,” I whisper.
We stare at each other, each unmoving within a thrumming city, the door softly shutting behind him.
Stone is the first to break the quiet. “I made a mistake,” he says before I can respond. “I’ve made so many when it comes to you. I didn’t appreciate you. Didn’t worship you. Didn’t love you the way I should have.”
“Which time?” I ask, both shocked and pleased that my voice comes out level. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you twice now.”
His mouth goes slack with breath as my words hit him. “I didn’t need a reason other than thinking of you here, all alone, but after saying something like that…”
I pray I can stay strong with him standing in front of me, all but making my dreams come true. He’s here.
“We said our goodbyes,” I say. “You made sure they were absolute. You even sealed it with a kiss. I moved to Paris, and you went to Singapore. We were willing to start over again without each other.”
Stone takes a moment to think, but his eyes don’t stray from mine. They burn so much that I’m turning into flames just by keeping us connected.
He says, “It took a harsh reminder for me to realize what my mother was also trying to say by putting you and me in the same house again. Putting distance between us didn’t make a difference, either. I’m pulled to you wherever I am.”
He feels the draw, too. Elation floats me sky-high until I lecture it down again.
I retreat. I have to. “Physically, maybe. But mentally, emotionally , I can’t handle more of this, Stone.
I’ve missed you. I woke up with you on my mind every morning, but seeing you now, it’s pure agony.
I can’t play these games anymore. I can’t choose between a life of passion with you or my dream. ”
“I know that.” Stone moves forward, clasping my hands in his. Despite his hot, searing gaze, his hands are ice cold. “Hell, I know too well how much I’ve hurt you. I’m not here to make you choose, Lavender. I never want to do that to you again. I want…”
I raise my head, desperate to hear more, but so, so afraid. “Yes?”
“I want you. Always. I’ve spent years wondering what it is I was running from when I was meant to be with you from the beginning.
Was it fear? Did I think I could find something better?
No. You were perfection then, and you are now.
It took my mother dying, losing everything that mattered, to realize my dream was never to move away from you.
” Stone dips his head until his nose brushes against mine.
I’m disheveled, exhausted, and smell like garlic and sardines, but I’ve never felt more beautiful under his scope.
“I want to believe you,” I say.
He nods, my skin tingling where he touches mine.
“I wasn’t worthy of your love. Not then.
But now? You've taught me the importance of caring, understanding, and patience.
You've shown me what it means to love someone beyond words.
If you'll have me, I promise to be a better man, for you, for my mother, hell, even for Falcon Haven.”
My hand rasps against his cheek. I resist digging the pads of my fingers into his skin, clinging to him, clinging to hope . “I don’t love people who don’t deserve it.”
Stone chuckles darkly and moves to kiss my palm. As if I might stray, he reaches up and holds it there by my wrist.
“This is how I’ll prove our worth,” he says into my palm. “I won’t force you to choose between me and your dream. I want you to have both. I want to taste all your meals, curl up beside you while I sleep off your high-calorie creations, and be there for you when you open your eyes.”
My arm goes slack in his hold. “You were supposed to take your company to the next level.”
“It will be just fine without me living in my offices. I’d rather hold you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No accolade in the world would match the feeling you give me every time you walk into the same room I’m in.”
My eyes water. My mascara clumps together, and my nose burns with the warning of an incoming sob.
Stone tips my chin, his gaze diving into mine, into me, until that string I tried to cut, or tangle, or drift away from, grows tighter, until nothing but hesitant inches separate us.
“Do you want me?” he asks, drawing me into him, encircling me with all he has to give.
“I want you,” I respond, softly but with certainty.
Stone’s expression falls as if the weight of bearing the reality of my pain leaves his shoulders.
“Forever,” he whispers hoarsely.
He’s in the midst of collecting himself when I add, “I love you.”
He stares down at me, and in that gaze, the rest of our burdens drift away. “I love you, too. My God, do I love you.”
And then he kisses me.
Our lips match each other in fervor and warmth. A familiar sigh escapes my lips, and he laps at it hungrily. He sheds his coat without breaking off our kiss and unbuttons my chef’s jacket before he pulls me against him. We fit together in perfect, rekindled harmony.
It’s the kiss I’ve always wanted. My dream within a dream. I picture Mrs. Stalinski, Mom, and our unborn daughter looking down at us with pride.
“It’s snowing in Falcon Haven,” he murmurs into my mouth.
I smile, keeping my lips on his. “It is?”
“Sure is, Lavender.” He tightens his arms around me. “Let’s go home and see it.”
I nod, half laughing, half sobbing, as he lifts me and spins me while we kiss.
No matter where I end up, I find Stone Williams. William Stalinski. The boy and the man.
We’ve returned to each other. Come home.
And this time? It’s for always.