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A shiver racks my body as his baritone voice slides over me like warm butter. “I didn’t come in here to stare at you like a weirdo. We have no water. I mean, we have it. The water isn’t shut off or anything. But we ran out of it.” I grimace and lift the pitcher, because pantomiming is a better option than whatever’s spewing out of my mouth right now.
The slightest smirk tugs his lips to the left, but it vanishes before I can fully appreciate it. “Filtered water is on the door of the fridge.”
“Got it.” I duck my head, and hurry to refill the pitcher. “Everything looks great. I’m salivating over the smell of that salmon right now.”
As well as the sight of you preparing it.
“You allergic to anything?”
I shake my head. “Though I wish I were allergic to chocolate. Maybe that’d stop me from eating so much of it.”
He turns his full attention to me, letting his gaze trail down the length of my body, lingering on the sliver of my bare leg before returning back to the fish. “You should eat whatever you want.”
My cheeks heat. “With your cooking, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist. Those quiches are scrumptious.”
“If you tell me what you like, I can make sure to have it on hand.”
“Whatever you make, I’m sure it’ll be amazing. You don’t have to do anything special for me.”
“Why not?”
I absorb the low rumble of those two simple words. I open my mouth, but close it again, not wanting to cheapen his honest question with an excuse of an answer. He’s right. Why can’t I let someone do something special for me? Why does it feel strange to accept a simple kind gesture? I’ve taken care of my mother. I take care of the diner. I’ve always been a caretaker. I never saw a problem with it until I realized how disconnected I was from the people in my life. Even Greg saw it before I did. You rely on yourself for everything so you don’t need anyone.
I make it a point to answer Bryce’s question. “I love seafood. Shrimp, crab, lobster, all kinds of fish.” I tap my finger on my chin. “And I absolutely love breakfast foods.”
Bryce smiles, as if knowing what I like to eat pleases him. “I can do that.”
Those lips stretching across his face, giving way to a row of straight bright teeth, takes my next breath right out of me. His eyes shine like black ink spilled onto a crisp white page, and his whole face lights up.
And that’s when I realize I’m in trouble, because a considerate, smiling Bryce makes my stomach flip.
Leave, Char. Before you say something embarrassing.
I huff out a nervous laugh, and wave a hand, though it comes out more like a weird spasm. “Well, I should get back in there before your grandmother thinks I skipped out on dinner.”
Just as I reach the door, Bryce calls out to me. “You might want to fill the pitcher before you go back in there.”
Glancing down at the empty decanter in my hand, I cringe. “Oh, right.”
I scurry to refill it, and get out of there as fast as I can.
When I return to the dining room, Beatrice is talking to one of the guests at the table. “That’s how I knew I wanted to turn this place into a bed and breakfast. Everyone told me I was crazy, but a woman who knows what she wants is a force to be reckoned with.” Beatrice pats my knee as I take the seat beside her. “We’re talking about our dreams. What is it that you want out of life, my dear?”
I tilt my head as I ponder it. “All I ever wanted was for my mom to be healthy. Now that she’s gone, the focus is on me, and I’m not sure which way to turn.” I swirl the ice inside my glass. “I have a business degree after taking online classes, but haven’t done anything with it. I manage the diner by my apartment, but that’s not exactly a career I see myself doing for the rest of my life.”
Beatrice clicks her tongue. “What is it with your generation and thinking you have to have everything planned out for all of eternity?” She rolls her eyes. “Please. Life is a living thing. You can’t expect everything to stay the same. What you do today might not work in five years. You have to grow and evolve with the twists and turns life takes you on. You don’t need to have everything figured out right now.” She jerks her thumb behind her. “Do you think I’ve always planned on turning my home into an inn? Right now, you’re managing the diner. Maybe one day, you’ll outgrow that and find something different. Or maybe you won’t, and that’s okay too. What matters is that you’re happy doing whatever it is that you do. You’ll always be faced with choices along the way, and each choice you make will determine the direction you go. Stay or go. What matters is that you follow your happiness.”
Several guests lift their glasses in praise.
“Follow your happiness.” I smile. “I like that.”
Now I just have to find out what makes me happy.
After dinner, which is beyond delicious, Bryce emerges from the kitchen holding a glass cake platter.
Beatrice claps. “I hope you’ve all saved room for dessert.”
Groans sound around the table. I pat my stomach with a sated smile, but I’m eyeing the dish because, let’s face it, there’s always room for dessert no matter how full you are.
