Chapter 8 #2
“Hmm. Maybe that made the difference. I know Mom and I use salt, pepper, and lemon juice when we cook red snapper, but yours had more to it.”
“You have good taste buds,” Nellie said. “I marinated it for half an hour in olive oil, garlic, and a mixture of herbs. I’m happy to pass along what I use.”
“Well, it flaked beautifully,” Kylie praised. “Thank you for agreeing to share your recipe with us. Just email it to Mom, and I’ll get it from her.”
Nellie rose. “I can do that. Now, who wants dessert?”
The two men looked expectantly at Kylie. “I’m not sure if I have room,” she admitted.
“I think we should cut into that banana bread,” Neville said eagerly.
“Don’t think you have to serve it simply because I brought it. Serve whatever you planned.”
Nellie laughed. “Dessert every night in this household is Neville picking a different carton of Blue Bell from the freezer.”
“I think that vanilla bean would go well with the banana bread. Slice it up, Nellie. I’ll grab the ice cream and scoop. You kids can clear the table.”
Zane grinned at her. “I have plenty of experience in that. I started bussing tables at the diner when I was about eight or nine. Added dishwashing to my skill set. Eventually, I cooked and even took diners’ orders. You sit. I’ll handle the table.”
He efficiently cleared their plates and the serving dishes, loading items into the dishwasher and placing the leftover food into Tupperware just like her grandmother had used.
Nellie refilled their tea glasses, while Kylie told Neville, “Only one scoop of ice cream for me.”
For a moment, her eyes misted over. Ice cream had been Amy Marie’s favorite food. By the end, it was one of the few foods her daughter could swallow. Kylie usually avoided it since it brought memories of Amy Marie, ones which she didn’t care to dwell upon.
“Coming up,” he said, placing a bowl with a slice of banana bread and a single scoop of ice cream in front of her. “Go ahead and start. Don’t let that ice cream melt.”
She enjoyed listening to the stories the older couple told while they ate their dessert, including how her father used to bring in her mother to the diner and split a piece of apple pie or chocolate cake between them.
“Those are still their favorites,” Kylie said. “Dad is always stopping by Seaside Sweets and having Denise box up chocolate cake or cupcakes. And I know he regularly comes to the diner for apple pie to bring home.”
“He certainly does. Stops off on his way to the dock. Sometimes, he’s the first customer in the diner. I give him his pie, and he usually winks at me, promising not to eat it while the charter is out at sea. He tells me it’s for Pat.”
“Mom does have a sweet tooth.” Kylie sighed. “Boy, this was delicious.”
“There’s nothing like preparing a fresh catch for dinner,” Nellie said.
“I wish I hadn’t driven over. I need to walk off some of this meal.”
“I’ll take a walk with you if you’d like,” Zane offered. “We can head up to the square and circle around it before heading back here.”
“You’re on,” she said. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”
“Nope,” Neville said. “You two go on. We’ve got this.”
Kylie and Zane left the house. The sun would be going down soon. She caught the tang of salt in the air and inhaled deeply.
“You like living in the Bay?” he asked. “Smelling the sea? Or do you get so used to it, you don’t even notice it?”
“I enjoy living on the water. Working on it, as well.”
“How long have you worked for your family?”
“I came back to the Bay a little over a year ago. Before that, I was working in Dallas.”
“What did you do?”
“I worked as the head of advertising for an insurance company.” She paused. “That seems a lifetime ago.”
“Why did you leave? If you were in charge of advertising, then you were really good at your job.”
She shrugged, not wanting to open up about her past. “I just needed a change. I had family here. It felt right to come home.”
“What happened that caused you to leave, Kylie?” Zane pressed.
Coming to a halt, she faced him. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said softly. “It’s not you. I … don’t talk about it with anyone. It still feels too raw.”
“I get that. I’m the king of keeping things bottled inside.
But having finally seen a therapist, I can tell you that opening up and spilling your guts can help.
You don’t have to with friends. Certainly not with me.
But if you’re still hurting after a year, I suggest you find someone you can unburden yourself to. ”
Kylie began walking again, thinking of what he’d said. At the time, Amy Marie’s doctor had suggested that very thing, but she had disregarded that notion.
“What hurt you so much that you had to seek professional help?”
Zane inhaled and blew out a long breath. “My ex-wife.”
“You were married?”
“For all of three months,” he said, and she detected a note of bitterness in his voice, despite the time he’d spent with a therapist. “I was a fool. I always thought I was one of the smartest people in a room—unless Sullivan or my dad was there—but my ego got in the way. It was a long, hard, fucking painful fall.”
She saw the hurt in his eyes. Instinctively, she reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“No, Zane. She was the fool if she let go of someone like you.”
Surprise filled his eyes. “No one ever said that to me. Huh.”
He paused, and she saw him turning over what she had said. Her hand was still wrapped around his, and she let go.
But he took it again.
Zane’s gaze met and held hers. “I want to kiss you, Kylie. I know it’s a stupid thing to do, especially because we have serious business to discuss tomorrow. Once it’s finished, though? If you let me, I’m going to kiss you. Long. Deep. Hard.”
A shiver ran through her, causing her to tremble. “What if you don’t like me too much after I’m done with you?”
He looked at her with yearning. Need. Kylie even saw approval mixed in.
“If you’re as good at negotiating as I think you’ll be, that’ll just be something that makes me want you even more,” he said, his voice low and rough.
Her heart began beating rapidly, pounding against her ribs violently.
“I’m very good,” she told him. “And I definitely would like to kiss you, too, Zane.”
His smile grew. “Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.”