Page 20

Jules

C ooking in this kitchen while my grandfather isn’t working upstairs feels so very wrong. But I’d needed it. After convincing Riley to take me to the grocery store so I could grab a few things, I started to feel a bit more human.

I’d even seen Heather, the sweet cashier who’d always greeted me with a smile before.

Of course, this time, that smile was saddened by the weight of pity over my grief.

Everyone’s heard what happened. I shouldn’t be surprised.

My grandfather was beloved. Active. A man who people would notice if they hadn’t seen him in a day or two.

And now here we are, two weeks later.

I double-check the potatoes boiling in a large pot on the stove. Then I finish cutting up the beef tenderloin so I can brown the pieces in the bottom of a teal Dutch oven my grandfather bought me two years ago for my birthday.

Birthday.

I nearly laugh. With everything going on, I completely forgot that my birthday is next month.

A fresh wave of grief crashes down on me as I realize it’ll be my first one without him in years.

The only other times we didn’t spend it together were during the years I was away.

And even then, I imagine he’d been celebrating for me.

Riley’s words hang in the air around me. “ I know exactly whose name is on the deed to this place alongside her grandfather’s, and I’m happy to provide a copy of that documentation if you need it to refresh your memory.”

It was news to me that my grandfather deeded his house to me before he died. I’d even requested Riley show me proof because I found it so hard to believe. But there it was, my name on the deed to this house—right beside my grandfather’s.

Why he would leave Odie off, I’m not sure, and until Odie finds the will he can’t seem to track down, we won’t know what other changes he made before leaving this world.

“That smells delicious,” Riley announces as he walks into the kitchen, Romeo trotting happily at his side.

“Thanks.” I force a half smile and try to hide the tears that were in my eyes mere seconds ago. “It should be ready in about half an hour.”

“Sounds good.” He walks over to the stove and leans in. “Beef tips?”

“It was my grandfather’s favorite.”

“Happens to be one of mine too,” he replies with a smile. “Do you want some help?”

“Uh, sure, if you don’t mind slicing mushrooms.”

“I don’t mind. I can even do it without cutting myself.”

I laugh lightly, and a bit of the darkness that had descended on me just before he came in dissipates. Even as guilt over how I’d treated him earlier settles in. “Good. Though the first aid kit is under the sink if you need it.”

Riley chuckles and starts slicing the mushrooms I’d already washed, dried, and left sitting on a cutting board.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

I turn toward him. “Earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I appreciate everything you’re doing, and I’m sorry, Riley.”

“It’s fine, Jules.” He smiles. “I can recognize when something isn’t necessarily about me.”

The guilt lessens slightly. “Well, it still wasn’t right for me to yell like that, and I am sorry.”

“Noted but unnecessary. So how are you doing? With being here?”

“Fine. It feels strange—but nice in a way. Like I’m close to him when I’m here.”

“I get that.” He’s silent a few minutes as I remove the first batch of beef tips, then add the second batch into the melted butter. “Do you want to talk about what Odie said to you on the porch?”

I turn to look at him. “What?”

“I can read body language,” he says. “And I had Tucker check the security footage.”

I should be mad. Furious at the invasion of privacy. But he confesses it so candidly that I can’t imagine he’d care even if I was. “Why am I surprised that you watched it?”

“I needed to get a better read on the situation. Plus, now Tucker has access, so he can help us watch the house. They’ve set up a remote feed by tapping into your already-existing cameras.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

He laughs. “Same. I’m just repeating what Tucker told me. He’s the smart one.” Riley slices the mushrooms like a professional, moving fast and consistently, each one the same thickness. “I pried, and for that I’m sorry. But I need to know where Odie stands.”

“Odie is disappointed.”

“Odie is a bully,” he counters.

“It’s hard to accuse someone of something when you don’t have all of the facts,” I tell him. My way of skirting around a topic I really, really don’t want to get into.

“I know that whoever you were before is in the past. You don’t do those same things, so holding you to that standard is unfair and a manipulative way of keeping you beneath his thumb.”

After removing the second batch of beef tips, I add in the third and final batch to brown. “My grandfather used to say something similar.”

“He sounds like a smart man.”

“He was.”

“Then what is Odie’s deal? What’s his real issue with you?”

“It’s complicated,” I reply. “They had high hopes for me, and I broke their hearts when I let myself get lost.”

“A broken heart can be mended,” he replies. “As long as you don’t let it keep breaking. He keeps breaking yours.”

Once again, his words are spoken candidly. Worded as fact. And, what’s more, he’s not wrong. Odie does break my heart. Over and over again. Reshattering it into the pieces I’ve tried so hard to keep up.

“I truly believe he means well.”

“Doesn’t excuse the behavior.”

Beef browned, I remove it from the pan and melt some butter in the bottom of the same pan.

Every movement is therapeutic to me. Cooking has always been that way.

I can even remember how, right after my mother passed away, my father brought me home from her funeral, and we made dinner together.

It was the first time I smiled since she died.

My dad used to tell me it’s cheaper than therapy. Which I’ve had plenty of in my lifetime.

“Mushrooms ready?” I ask.

“All done.” He offers me the cutting board, so I slide the mushrooms down into the butter.

“Great. Can you slice the onion too?”

“Sure thing, chef,” he replies with a grin that makes my insides melt a bit.

How is he so unbelievably handsome? But it’s more than that too.

There’s this light within Riley, a life that starkly contrasts with how haunted I feel.

Like he’s a happy home near the shore, and I’m a haunted castle hidden away amidst a forest no one ventures into.

As he cuts the onion, I keep an eye on the mushrooms.

“Here you go.” He holds up the cutting board again, presenting perfectly diced onions.

I laugh when I note how his eyes are a bit red from the scent of the onion. “Not too shabby, Hunt.”

“Thanks.” He smiles, and for just a moment, the rest of my darkness vanishes, leaving only me and him and this peaceful moment.

I force my attention away and take the cutting board, sliding the onions into the butter. Then, a few minutes later, I add fresh minced garlic that I’d prepped earlier. As soon as that’s cooked, I move on to removing everything from the pot and placing it onto the plate alongside the beef.

“You never answered me.”

“What do you mean?” I ask as I pour some beef broth into the pot. My replacement for the red wine I won’t even allow around me for cooking. I add a splash of balsamic vinegar, another addition to help deepen the flavor since I don’t use wine.

Riley crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. “Do you want to talk about what he said?”

Oh. And here I thought we’d changed the subject. “Anyone ever tell you that you don’t let things go?”

“All the time,” he replies. “Ask Elliot.”

“I might just do that,” I reply with a slight smile. “There’s not much to talk about. He said what he said, I listened, and now I’m in the kitchen, which is as close to my happy place as I can get.”

“I can appreciate that.”

“When I was little, I wanted to be a veterinarian. Anything to work with animals.” I smile. “But from the first time I cooked alongside my dad, I knew I wanted to open a restaurant. It just felt so right, cooking and serving others delicious food that would bring smiles to their faces.”

“Really? That’s great.”

I shrug. “It would have been.”

“Why can’t it be great now?”

“Odie’s been in charge of our grandfather’s accounts for years.

And with him gone, well, I just know that I’ll never get Odie to give me access to enough funds to get me started.

My credit is basically nonexistent, so a loan is out of the question.

Maybe one day I’ll go work in one. If I can get them to hire me. ”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. And as far as Odie goes, he can’t control you any more than you let him, Jules. Don’t let him.”

“It’s not just about that. I made my choices, and I know I need to live in the consequences of those choices.”

“That’s not true. Not even a little. If it were, then I’d be damned too.

So would each of my brothers and every single human being on this planet.

Once you’ve repented, that part of you dies, Jules.

And you become reborn. You get to move past those mistakes and bury them in the dirt where they belong. ”

“Repented? You preaching to me, Mr. Hunt?”

“Hardly. I’m only telling you that there’s another door you can walk through. And it’s a whole lot better on this side.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, hoping it closes this particular conversation before I end up confessing to him that I don’t feel worth saving. That there’s not even a shred of hope left within me and the only reason I’m still breathing is because my grandfather wouldn’t let me die.

“Good. And if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here, and I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”

Honestly? I could see that. As much as I don’t want to admit it, there’s this charm to Riley. This calm that makes one feel safe enough to open up and spill all of their secrets. Unfortunately, mine would drown us both.

“Okay, this is the best beef tips and mashed potatoes I’ve ever had. And I’m not just saying that. Don’t tell my mom.”

I laugh and take another bite. “It turned out pretty good.”

“Um, I think the words you’re looking for are delicious and fantastic. Thank you for cooking.”

“No problem. Seemed only fair. You did cook for me the other night.”

“I’m happy to do it again. Especially if that means you’ll cook for me. It’s a solid trade in my opinion.”

With every word he speaks to me, Riley manages to make me feel less and less worthless.

“How’s your stomach feeling?” he asks.

“Like I got stabbed a couple of days ago,” I admit with a half-smile. Truthfully, I’m exhausted and would love nothing more than to shower and go straight to bed. Of course, I still have to change the sheets on my bed and the guest bed since it’s been two weeks without anyone in here cleaning.

“You need to take it easy,” he says, expression morphing to one of concern. “Don’t tear it open, or Lani will never let me hear the end of it.”

“She does seem like she runs the roost.”

“Has ever since she came to live with us.” Riley chuckles.

“What do you mean, came to live with you?”

“My parents adopted Lani when she was two.”

It’s news to me as they don’t treat her like anything but blood. “Really?”

He nods. “Her parents abandoned her, so she came to live with us. Honestly, though, it feels like she’s always been a part of our lives. Like those years before they adopted her never really existed.”

“That’s so sweet.” A knot forms in my chest. Why couldn’t Odie love me like that? Why can’t he talk about me with such love?

“She’s great.”

“She is the only doctor I actually like.”

“Bad luck in the past?’

“Oh, if you only knew the half of it.” I start to stand, but Riley shakes his head and pushes to his feet.

“Nope. I’m on kitchen cleanup. You stay right there.”

“Riley, I can?—”

“Nope. Do you want some tea? I grabbed some chamomile when we were at the store.”

Even when my grandfather was alive, he rarely cleaned up, cooked, or offered to make me tea.

I know he loved me, but he was always so wrapped up in his own thoughts that it never really crossed his mind.

And to be fair, even if he had offered, I still would have refused. It was my job to take care of him.

My joy to cater to the man who made it his mission to see me survive.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

“No problem. Kettle?”

“Bottom cabinet. Left side of the stove.”

“Got it.” He turns and retrieves the kettle, adds some water, and places it on the stove. Then he goes to work cleaning up the kitchen. The man literally hums as he works, a soft tune that both relaxes and intrigues me.

Who is this guy? And why does he seem to care if I live? It’s not like Odie is going to pay him now—oh, who’s going to pay him?

“Did Odie pay you? For finding me.”

Riley shakes his head and sets the last of the now clean dishes onto the drying rack beside the sink. “I don’t expect him to, either.”

“Why not? You did a job.”

“We don’t just work for money,” Riley replies as he turns to face me, crossing his muscular arms. “In fact, a lot of the cases we take on we do for free.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what God called us to do.” Again, he speaks so candidly, so factual. What would it feel like to believe God called me to do something? Anything, really.

“I can probably pull some money from my grandfather’s accounts. The ones I have access to, anyway. If Odie hasn’t already drained them and moved the money somewhere else.”

“You don’t need to pay me, Jules. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here? Why do you care if I live or die?”

He uncrosses his arms and grips both sides of the countertop, his gaze darkening. “Because you’re worth a whole lot more than Odie has ever let you believe,” he replies, tone low. “And I want you to get the chance to realize that yourself.”