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I doubt anything else ever will.
11
August
Caleb drops down into the seat next to me and presses a kiss to my lips. I’m sure he means it to be a quick peck, but hell if I’m going to be happy with just that. Instead, I weave my fingers into his hair and kiss him until our lips are red and his gaze is burning with lust.
“One of these days, we won’t be able to stop, and then we’re going to get arrested,” he says in a voice filled to the brim with lust.
It’s been three weeks since our date, and the whole time, I’ve felt like I’ve been floating on a cloud of happiness. I think both of us have tried to keep some sort of normalcy, fearing we’ll burn too hot and quick if we keep it up like that, but our attempts have been feeble at best. Somehow we always end up meeting up, even if it’s just for a few minutes a day. Today we’re meeting for lunch.
“How’s the job search going?” I ask after we’ve ordered.
He chews on his lower lip for a few seconds. “Uninspiring,” he finally says.
“Because?” I prompt.
He leans back and shakes his head. “I don’t know. It should be easier. I’m a good chef, but…”
He shrugs and sighs, staring moodily at the table. I move closer and place my palms on his cheeks, making him look at me. “Might it be because you’re tired of making other people’s vision a reality?”
His tongue glides over his lips, and finally he nods. “I guess.”
“Have you thought any more about maybe, perhaps opening your own place?” I ask. He’s mentioned it in passing every once in a while, but it’s always in relation to the future. Something that’s maybe going to happen down the line.
“It’s very risky,” he says. “It’d be easier if I didn’t have people depending on me, but I don’t think I should gamble all my savings on it when I have Milo to think about. Sixty percent of restaurants fail within the first year. I just… don’t know if I’m confident enough just yet.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “That makes me sound like a coward. I should be banging on my own chest and risking everything for my dream, I know, but…”
I shake my head. “No. What you should do is follow your gut. If you don’t think it’s the right time yet, then you shouldn’t do it.”
He sends me a grateful look and squeezes my hand.
“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
“I’m in your corner,” I say. “However, I don’t think you should go work for somebody else, either.”
He frowns. “You want me to become a househusband? Because I could totally see myself as one. I’ll throw us fancy parties and dazzle all your colleagues with my charm.”
“You forgot the part where you sex me up five times every day.” I waggle my brows.
“I thought that was implied.”
I laugh as I kiss him. “We’ll call it our backup plan. Not the sex part, though. We’re totally doing that, starting with a quickie in the bathroom once we’re done here. This place looks like nobody has blessed any corner of it yet. We’ll do the honors.”
He shakes his head and grins. “Deal.”
I bite my lip, not sure I should add my two cents, but eventually I figure, why not?
“Have you ever considered something less risky than a restaurant?”
He frowns. “Like?”
I bite my lip. “A food truck?” I offer. “I’ve done a bit of research. The investment would be much smaller than with a restaurant, and you could make a decent living and save for that future restaurant.”
He frowns, and at first I think I might have overstepped, but then his frown morphs into a thoughtful expression.
“Huh. You know, a lot of food trucks do the whole ‘tacos, sliders, burritos’ thing,” he says. “But I could try out my recipes on a very diverse crowd. I could do the food truck version of gourmet.” His eyes get a faraway look in them as he mulls it over. “And it sounds fun,” he suddenly blurts. “I don’t remember the last time work was fun, but this actually sounds really fun. And right.” His eyes meet mine. “This feels like the right move for now.”
“I can help you with a business plan and see if there are any loans or grants or stuff available,” I offer.
