When I returned to the place I had been standing at before, there was a wrapped gift on the counter.
“Open it,” he said.
I glanced at the rectangular box, half the size of a book, and then my stare moved to him. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
He nodded toward the gift, and I reached for it, unwrapping the brown paper and twine bow. That was when I got a whiff of what was inside.
“You didn’t …” I groaned as I lifted the small flaps of the top, unveiling the most perfect black truffles I had ever seen in my life. “You did.”
“They’re straight from Italy.”
“Oh, Jared …” I brought them up to my nose, inhaling so gently, like I was afraid they were going to disappear. “Thank you.” He nodded, and I asked, “Where did you find these?”
He gave me the smallest smile, and it was so beautiful. “I can get them anytime you want. I just need a few days’ notice.”
I carefully set them down and went over to the bread basket. Since our French meal, I’d been eating baguettes, so that was what I grabbed, slicing and painting it with a layer of extra virgin olive oil. Then, I took one of the truffles, washed it at the sink, and grated it on the bread. I kept one piece for myself and handed Jared the other.
I watched him lift the baguette to his lips, taking a large bite of the corner.
“Excellent.”
I did the same, the flavor of the fungus completely owning my tongue. There was no question how amazing it was. Truffles would always be a delicacy in my opinion. But something was still off, and it just didn’t have the taste it once had.
I truly believed it would come back.
I just wasn’t there yet.
“Delicious,” I finally answered, and I set the bread down.
He waited a few seconds before he said, “But …”
He read me. It was so easy for him. I’d only taken one bite, and he knew there was something wrong.
It was terrifying to think what else he was able to sense from me.
“You have to understand something; food has always been my thing. My family cooks and eats; it’s all we know.”
“And food isn’t giving you the love you need it to.”
The emotion was in my throat. I wouldn’t let it go any further, but it burned like hell. “You’re right about that.”
Tears were threatening to form, my lips on the verge of quivering. I couldn’t give in to it either. It didn’t matter how fucked my life was right now; I wasn’t going to let it own me tonight.
“I understand, Billie. Trust me.”
As though on cue, the timer went off, startling me.
I blinked hard, backing away to grab the oven mitts. Once my hands were in them, I took out the Dutch oven, setting the heavy dish on the counter. It needed to cool just a little before I sliced the meat, so I kept it there.
To make things easier, I’d cooked a majority of the meal in the Dutch oven, so I didn’t have to prepare many extra sides. I would move the bread to the table. The only thing left to do was cut and plate, adding a few more accompaniments that were in the fridge.
I returned to where Jared sat and held the edge of the counter.
There was a heat in the pit of my stomach, and I didn’t know how to make it go away. I just knew I wanted to be the one asking the questions, so I said, “If food is my problem, where I’m struggling the most, what’s yours?”
He glanced at his wine, twisting the stem between his fingers. He kept his eyes there, eventually moving them to me.
As they locked with mine, my grip on the cold granite tightened.
When he opened his mouth, “You,” came out.
FORTY-TWO
JARED
“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” Billie asked after I told her she was my struggle.
The last time I had stood outside this building, I’d made it clear I couldn’t kiss her. But when she’d opened the door a few moments ago, our chemistry was even thicker. Her face told me I wasn’t the only one who felt it. And then she’d turned her back, heading into her kitchen, her tight jeans and short T-shirt giving me a perfect view of her ass.
It needed to stop. The chemistry, the teasing—all of it. I had to make my intentions clear and remind her again of why I was here before this went too far, and I couldn’t pull us back. Because if we really went there, all I would do was hurt her, and she couldn’t handle any more pain.