Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I gathered up more of the tender meat. “But this. . .is just as special. I don’t think I will be able to taste this dish again and not think of you.”
“You’ve got me over here beaming.”
“You should be beaming.” I forked another portion. “You know the only woman who ever cooked for me like this was my mother?”
Nyomi said nothing, just held my gaze.
“We had chefs, but. . .it was always special when my mother cooked, especially when it was just for me.”
Nyomi watched me as if she was trying to imagine a younger version of the Dragon eating with his mother. “I know it’s probably obvious to you but. . .tell me. . .why did you feel so special when she did it?”
“Because. . .” I set my fork down. “Every time my mother cooked for me it wasn’t just food—it was her love. Her time. Her care. I felt. . .chosen like. . .I was the most important boy in Japan.”
“That’s so sweet.” Her smile warmed.
I gestured to the tray of delicious oxtails. “Since she died, this is the first time I’ve felt that way.”
Nyomi’s eyes shimmered.
So greedy, I looked at the other trays. “What else did you cook for me, Tora?”
She chuckled and lifted the next tray. “It took me years to get these collard greens just right, so. . .you have to let me know if you like them.”
Steam curled upward.
Bits of smoked meat shimmered in the folds and there was a scent—tangy, sharp, deep. Vinegar, garlic, and something peppery.
“Okay. Now these, I have had before.” I went straight for them, spooning a lot onto my plate.
“Where did you have some?”
“My brother, Hiro, had a boyfriend from Kingston, Jamaica who used to make them. I came over one day and tried them.”
“Your thoughts?”
“I fell in love immediately. I was pretty upset when he broke up with the guy a month later. Hiro’s life was too much for him.” I brought the fork to my mouth, already knowing I’d love it.
The greens hit my tongue with a perfect balance.
“Wow,” I muttered through a bite. “This might be better than the oxtails and I thought that would be impossible.”
Her smile widened. “I told you I worked on those for years.”
I went back for more. “I can taste the dedication.”
She chuckled.
“Don’t laugh at the Dragon.”
“Oh yes.” She cleared her throat. “I must respect the Dragon. What was I thinking?”
I shoved way too many greens into my mouth and didn’t feel embarrassed about it at all.
She raised her brows. “So. . .”
“What?”
“Your brother Hiro is gay? You don’t have to answer of course and it doesn’t matter to me who he loves. . .I’m just intrigued.”
“Is Hiro gay?” I snickered. “Hiro is Hiro.”
“Which means?”
“My brother will fuck anything that breathes and is of proper age. If aliens landed in Tokyo tomorrow, Hiro would be the first in line at the welcome party with his cock out, a box of condoms, and lube. Meanwhile, his heart is the same way too. He loves who he wants, whenever and however he wants.”
Nyomi widened her eyes. “I need to meet this man.”
I grabbed more greens and ate. “You’ve already kind of met him.”
“When?”
“When you kneed me in my office.”
“He was in there?”
“Yes. The scarry idiot sucking on a lollipop.”
“Aww. Long hair, cover model gorgeous, yet looking very dangerous.”
I laughed. “Please don’t tell him the cover model part.”
“Okay. I promise I won’t.” She began eating some of the greens too. “So, another question and you don’t have to answer this one either.”
“Go ahead.”
“Is Hiro’s love style accepted in the Yakuza? I always imagined you all would be. . .hyper-masculine and anti-queer.”
I nodded slowly, chewing. “You’re correct. It is that way too. Lots of old, ignorant ideas. But no one could come close to killing Hiro but me so. . .”
“Everyone keeps their mouths shut.”
“Exactly.”
She tilted her head. “Still. That’s kind of powerful. Your brother’s out here breaking binaries in the most dangerous rooms.”
I gave a proud nod. “He doesn’t care about rules—never has. He loves what he loves. Fucks what he fucks. And somehow, in a world built on obedience, he’s completely free.”
Nyomi’s gaze softened. “So are you.”
I met her eyes. “No. I want to be. But I’m not, although. . .”
“What?”
“You make me believe it might be possible.”
She blinked.
The saxophone moaned behind us.
I pointed to the other trays. “What else do we have?”
“You are horrible with surprises.”
“Everyone says so but tonight even I can see it. You have me too excited.”
And with that she began lifting the other trays and I would eat while she let me know what I was lovingly devouring. “Here are candied yams glazed in warm bourbon butter and dusted with cinnamon sugar.”
Fuck me.
I was already salivating and I hadn’t even fully swallowed them. Just when I thought I had a favorite dish, she kept blowing my mind more and more.