Chapter 50
CHAPTER
Cruz had just put the finishing touches on the final dessert, a passion-fruit avocado tart, when he saw El walking towards the homestead kitchen.
They hadn’t exchanged more than a polite greeting earlier because he’d been busy prepping dishes and taking them to the shed to leave on the buffet table.
Turns out, he could’ve done with Bindi being a waitress tonight rather than a guest, but seeing her chat to Kyle, Thommo, Robbo and El, looking more relaxed than he’d seen in weeks, vindicated his decision to do everything himself.
Bindi had been a great help in getting Smashed set up, doing everything from decorating to sampling dishes and giving honest feedback.
They’d grown closer and he hoped she considered him a friend now.
She hadn’t lost the haunted look in her eyes, though, and while she occasionally shared a beer with him and Kyle at the end of a long day, she rarely talked about herself, preferring to ask questions or make small talk.
Cruz could see Kyle fell deeper for Bindi every day, and hoped his mate had patience. He was going to need it.
Taj and his mum were another surprise. They’d barely taken their eyes off each other during the meal and the way Ferne leaned into Taj, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, laughing and talking with an animated expression, made Cruz realise he’d never seen his mother happy.
She’d never looked like that with Mac—ever—and he hoped she made the most of this new relationship.
As for El, he’d felt her eyes on him every time he’d entered and exited the shed, making him want to rush the meal service, get the guests’ feedback and shove them out the door so he could talk to her.
When he’d emailed El the invite, he’d expected her to refuse.
Though they’d parted like adults, he’d wanted a clean break, and her lack of contact told him she obviously shared the sentiment.
But somewhere between that mortifying viral video and sharing wine around the fire pit, he’d fallen for her a little, so who knew what might eventuate when he returned to Melbourne?
That thought had prompted him to invite her and he’d love to find out why she’d accepted.
If they had a chance at a relationship, he’d make it work.
Snatched weekends in Melbourne until he returned permanently.
But the oddest thing had happened over the last few days since his mother had come home and he’d cooked for the soft launch.
He’d started to feel like he belonged here.
At first, he couldn’t fathom it. Kinstead Avocados held nothing but bad memories for him, and discovering his father’s double life had only compounded them.
But starting the restaurant from scratch, watching it come alive, knowing he’d be solely responsible for it, had ignited a passion for the farm’s avocados and the region in general.
He never saw farm-fresh produce in Melbourne despite scouring the best markets at dawn.
Sure, the farm-to-table movement had gained popularity, but the dishes he’d been able to create here …
The freshness added a zest that made his tastebuds sing.
As Ferne had told him, ‘You did good, kid,’ and he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe running the farm and the restaurant could be a longterm prospect for him.
But if he made that decision, he had no future with El.
Asking a vibrant city girl to live on a farm in rural Victoria would be like asking Cruz to give up cooking—impossible. Sure, she could work remotely on digital campaigns, but for her to give up her life to be stuck here … He couldn’t ask that of her.
Besides, maybe opening the restaurant and spending time with his mum had made him nostalgic for the perfect farm life he’d never had, and that’s where this newfound attachment to Kinstead Avocados had come from.
He might lose the urge soon enough, so he’d be better off concentrating on the here and now with El rather than foreseeing a future that may never eventuate.
As El entered the kitchen, he pasted a smile on his face, hoping she couldn’t see the eagerness in his eyes. He’d like nothing better than to sweep her into his arms and kiss her, but her tentative smile implied she must be just as nervous as him.
‘Hey. Need a hand?’ She closed the door behind her, moving towards him in what seemed like slow motion.
She looked incredible in a pale pink dress that skimmed her knees, with a matching lip gloss that drew his attention to her lips, her hair tumbling around her shoulders in that casually mussed way he’d seen when she’d got out of his bed after that sensational night they’d spent together.
His heart pounded at the memory as he fervently hoped they’d have a repeat. She couldn’t drive back to Melbourne tonight and she’d probably booked a room at the motel, but with a little luck and a lot of convincing, he hoped she’d stay here.
‘I’m right for now, thanks, but just a few more garnishes and you can help me take these desserts to the shed.’
How he managed to sound normal while he struggled with the urge to kiss her, he’d never know.
‘Smashed is incredible, Cruz. The food is exquisite, considering I hate avocados. The way you’ve used them in subtle ways in every dish is really something.
And the atmosphere of the restaurant is perfect.
’ Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. ‘You’re going to have a hit on your hands, booked out for months in advance. ’
‘Really?’ He didn’t have false modesty, but he’d never done something like this and couldn’t help the doubts.
She nodded. ‘Yeah, really. I’m so pleased for you.’
‘Thanks. I’m glad you came.’
‘Wouldn’t miss it. Gives me the perfect opportunity to take lots of footage and photos for reels and carousels on the Insta page.’
His heart sank. Was that the only reason she’d come? How foolish of him to imagine a future when she viewed him as nothing more than an adjunct to a lucrative business campaign.
‘Good idea,’ he said, sounding gruff. ‘Raising the restaurant’s profile is a sure-fire way to get the crowds in.’
A tiny groove appeared between her brows as she studied him, probably wondering about his change in tone.
‘Let me just finish up these garnishes and we can head out.’
She gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment, smudging her gloss, before murmuring, ‘I also came to see you.’
The tweezers in his hand clattered to the benchtop.
‘I know it’s crazy, because we live so far apart, but you got under my skin during the brief time I spent here and I thought I might stick around for a week or so, and we could hang out?’
‘I can do that,’ he said, grinning at her as the tightness in his chest caused by her absence eased. ‘Does hanging out involve you staying here with me?’
‘If you’d like me to.’
The shyness of her response, at complete odds with the wicked glint in her eyes, made him laugh.
‘Come here,’ he said, rounding the bench and meeting her halfway across the kitchen as she flung herself at him.
He hugged her tight, savouring her soft curves, and experienced another unexpected pang of rightness. Of coming home.
‘El, I want you to know that I …’ He trailed off, searching for the right words to say, I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay with me, permanently.
She pressed her lips to his, softly at first, and whatever he had to say faded into oblivion as their passion ignited.
His guests could wait for dessert.