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“The soufflé earned it.” She jabs my chest. “Don’t get cocky.”
“Me? Never.” I kiss the top of her head. “But you did eat everything.”
“Because it was perfect.”
“It wasn’t perfect.” I think of Mom’s recipe and the little adjustments I made. “But it was mine.”
“You were amazing.”
“Thank you.” Two simple words that don’t begin to cover the depth of what I’m feeling. Gratitude, sure. But also something more, that bone-deep certainty that she’s got my back no matter how big the shit-storm gets.
“Always.” Her smile is soft, understanding everything I’m not saying. “We’re here for each other.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“About Elijah’s offer?”
I nod.
“I think…” She pulls back slightly, meeting my eyes. “You should do what feels right. Not what you think your dad would want or what Elijah expects. What do you want?”
The truth rises easily. “To prove I can do this on my own.”
“Then there’s your answer.” She dances out of my grasp. “Except that you’re not alone anymore.”
I tilt my head. “No?”
“We’ll need to scout locations, draft a business plan, and?—”
“We?” I stalk toward her.
“Unless you’re planning to do all the accounting yourself.”
My lips twitch into a grin, unbidden. “You’d do that? Help me with this?”
“That’s what partners do.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Right?”
“Just partners?” I catch her wrist, pulling her back against me. “And here I thought we were more than that, cupcake. After last night. How you screamed my name.”
Color floods her cheeks. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I spin her to face me. “You wound me.”
“Poor baby.” She pats my chest. “How will you ever recover?”
“I can think of a few ways.” I lean down, my lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “Starting with you admitting we’re more than just business partners.”
She shivers slightly. “What would you call this?”
“Well…” I pretend to think about it. “There’s this amazing woman who helps me cook, supports my dreams, and somehow makes me want to be better. What would you call that?”
Her fingers curl into my shirt. “Sounds complicated.”
“It’s actually pretty simple.” I cup her face. “I’m yours, Naomi. Have been since that first night at college.”
“Brandon…”
“And you’re mine.” I brush my thumb across her lower lip. “Aren’t you?”