Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I sigh and reach for the bag, pull out two to-go containers, and take a deep breath.
“Yeah, I have to stay for a while yet. Is this pasta?”
“Yes, but it’s better when it’s warm.”
I laugh and open one, put a fork in it, and pass it to my girl before grabbing my own.
“I’ll eat cold pasta any time if it means I get to fuck you into oblivion first.”
Her cheeks heat at that.
“You’re fucking adorable, Jules. You know that, right?”
“I’m not adorable. I’m a mess. I can’t believe you—”
She shakes her head, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Finish that thought.”
“No.”
With raised eyebrows, I set my food aside, take her chin in my fingers, and make her look at me.
“Yes.”
She sighs. “I can’t believe you went down on me. I worked all day. I haven’t had a shower, Brooks.”
Leaning in, I brush my lips over hers, then along her jaw and to her ear. “I don’t care, Juliet. You could run a marathon and roll in mud, and I’d still eat you like a man starving for his next meal.”
“That’s … gross.”
“Never.” I nip her earlobe. “Now, eat.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
JULIET
So here’s the thing that no one tells you when all your dreams come true: It’s fucking scary as shit.
Sure, I was a nervous wreck the first day that I opened this restaurant, not quite a year ago. I had high hopes, but no real expectations because I only had myself to disappoint. No family. No friends. Even the one employee I’d managed to snatch up—Christy—was a stranger to me, and if I failed, it wasn’t a big deal.
But everything is so different now.
So different.
In every single way.
I have a lot of damn expectations now because I know what I can do. I’ve already made this place something that my customers love and come back to. I’ve made it a safe place for people like me with food sensitivities. But bigger than that—scarier than that—is that I have a whole tribe that I’m terrified to disappoint. My girl gang. My new besties.
My husband.
I have a husband, the one man I’ve loved for so long. I don’t remember what it felt like to not love him, even when I was married to someone else and tried so hard to pretend that I’d moved on. It’s always been Brooks. And I absolutely do not want to disappoint him.
I just pulled the last of the daily fresh bread out of the oven to cool. I have morning pastries and breakfast sandwiches ready to go in the display cases, and once my girls get here, they’ll start prepping for lunch and dinner.
Christy is the first one to walk through the door with a spring in her step, wearing her new Sage & Citrus shirt and a pair of black shorts. Even though it’s fall, we get warm in here, with the ovens and cooktop.
“Hey, pretty boss lady,” she says with a grin. “Happy first official day back.”
“You didn’t have to come in for another thirty minutes.”
“I know.” She shrugs a shoulder and steps back into the office to stow her handbag away before joining me again, tying a new black apron around her waist. “But I knew you’d be here, probably nervous as hell, and I wanted to come in and mellow you out.”
I let out a deep breath and smile ruefully. “You’re right. I’m freaking out.”
“Of course, I’m right. I know you, girl. You have zero things to worry about,” she assures me. “It’s gorgeous in here. I loved it before, but you’ve managed to make it even more incredible. The new menu is going to slay. In fact, can I try one of those huckleberry muffins?”
“Help yourself. I made double what I normally do, with the optimism that I might be extra busy today and sell out.”
Christy takes a bite and then leans dramatically on the counter, making me grin.
“Holy fucking shit. This is gluten-free?”
“And dairy-free,” I confirm with a knowing smile. Those muffins are the bomb. “But leave a few for the customers, okay?”
“I make no promises.” Her eyes move to the front of the restaurant and widen a little, making me turn to look as well, and can’t believe my eyes.
“Is that a line?” I ask her, staring at the group standing in front of the still locked door, all chatting and laughing, some looking at their phones. “Holy shit, Christy.”
“I think that optimism has paid off,” Christy says, nudging my shoulder. “Tandy and Hazel will be here in ten minutes. We can handle it until then if you want to go ahead and open.”
“Are you sure? Do I have enough food? Why am I suddenly so nervous?”
“We’ll sell food until it’s gone, and then they’ll have to wait for lunch. No need to be nervous. You’re badass. Let’s do this, Jules.”
With a smile on my face to cover the nerves, I walk to the door and unlock it, swing it open, and announce, “Come on in, everyone!”