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Robbie examined the leafy vegetable he’d clearly forgotten about, and then, as though a light bulb went off in his head, he raised his hand and said, “No. Wait a minute. I know what I want to make.”
“And what’s that? Tell me.”
Robbie walked off down the aisle where all the cheeses were, and when he came back holding a block of Gruyere, he said, “I want to cook your most ‘meaningful’ meal.”
At Robbie’s words, Julien froze, and like a freight train running right over the top of him, the memory of what Robbie was talking about hit Julien out of nowhere, draining all joy from him.
“Julien?”
Robbie’s voice sounded miles away as Julien reached out and gripped one of the shelves in the fridge, and suddenly the voice of Graham Boyd, the host from Chef Master, was in his ears…
“Tonight on Chef Master you’re going to cook a dish that reminds you of the person you love the most. I want to see you pour your heart and soul into whatever you make, and I want to taste the love. You have sixty minutes to make your most ‘meaningful’ meal and wow me, and your time starts now…”
“JULIEN?” ROBBIE SAID, and a gentle hand on Julien’s arm shook him back to reality. “Julien.”
Robbie’s voice was sharper now, and Julien squeezed his eyes tight, trying to erase the image in his head before he refocused on the man in front of him. “Pardon? Sorry. You caught me off guard.”
Robbie’s worried eyes searched Julien’s face. “Don’t apologize,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked for—”
“Non,” Julien interrupted. “There’s nothing you can’t ask of me. I’m fine.”
Robbie bit into his lip as Julien tried to banish the anxiety threatening to squash him like one would a bug, but still he felt it twitch inside him as though it wasn’t quite dead. Then he forced a smile on his face, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.
“Okay,” Julien said. “My most meaningful meal, huh? And you remember what that was?”
The smile that tugged at Robbie’s lips was almost shy as he gave a little laugh and said, “Hello, when are you going to understand that you should probably be scared that you’re standing in a lockable room with me right now?”
Julien’s lips twitched. Robbie’s dramatics were exactly what he needed to get his mind off the thoughts trying to swallow him whole. “I think I’ll take my chances.”
“Brave, brave man,” Robbie said, but then he grew serious. “Of course I remember this meal. It was the cheese soufflé. It earned you your first win. You made yours with sharp cheddar, pepper jack, and Gruyere, and they looked mouthwatering. That’s what I’d like to learn to cook with you today. If you’ll teach me.”
Julien had known that Robbie was a fan of Chef Master, but was more than a little impressed that he remembered the meals he’d cooked right down to the fine details.
“Of course I’ll teach you,” Julien said, even though he hadn’t cooked this particular meal since the very day Robbie was referring to.
“Thank you,” Robbie said, and his eyes softened with an understanding that Julien wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge. One, he knew, he just might drown in if he let himself.
“Right. Let’s find the rest of the ingredients and get to work on teaching you how to make my famous cheese soufflé, shall we?”
Chapter Five
CONFESSION
There’s no better feeling than
knowing you belong, and trusting that
one hundred percent.
“JULIEN? JULIEN? WAKE up.”
The soft voice had Julien’s eyes popping open to see his sister kneeling on the floor by the side of his bed.
There was barely any light in his room as Julien shifted to his side so he could peer out his open balcony doors. The sun had not yet risen. Dieu, what time was it? “What are you doing up so early, ma petite poulette?”
A grin bright enough to light up his entire bedroom curved Jacquelyn’s lips. “Cooking.”
Cooking? Julien yawned and sat up, and when his feet hit the cold floor beside her, he cursed and looked at the clock over on his dresser—five thirty. Merde, she was mad.
“Why are you cooking so early?” he asked, his tone clearly expressing just how pained he was about being woken. “And why are you waking me?”
“Because, silly…it’s your fourteenth birthday.”
Julien reached out to tug on the thick braid that hung over her right shoulder. “Yours too, petite sœur. Still doesn’t explain why you’ve suddenly gone crazy and are running around before the crack of dawn.”
Jacquelyn got to her feet, her sundress swishing around her knees as she walked back toward his bedroom door and said over her shoulder, “Oui, it does. Because I finally did it.”
Julien cocked his head to the side and she laughed in pure delight, that smile of hers turning smug.
“I finally cooked the parfait cheese soufflé.” Jacquelyn grinned like a loon. “And you, mom, and Aurélien said I’d never get it. Psh! Just you wait, Julien Thornton. You’ll never taste another like it. Not even yours are this good—”
