Chapter 1
June
“Worst day ever.” Demarien Watts downed the last of his whiskey and slammed his glass on the table, startling his three best friends. “Did it really have to rain? All month, there’s no rain, but today it justhadto pour.”
The rain pounded against the glass panes of the windows of the bar. It was only early afternoon, and Portland was bustling with the late lunch crowd, umbrellas and raincoats included.
Milo sipped his drink, dark eyes dull with grief. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Fucking cancer is fucking stupid,” Puck muttered. Demarien’s friend wore his usual scowl, his blond hair pulled into a loose bun atop his head. Puck raised his hand and signaled the bar for another round. “Dahlia deserved better than that.”
Milo nodded, trembling. “I always thought she’d go down swimming with sharks in Australia or something.”
Felix sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “I thought she’d go out exploring Antarctica. You know how she felt about polar bears. She would have tried to adopt one and gotten eaten.”
Puck snorted. “Polar bears don’t live in Antarctica. There are just penguins.”
Felix gasped, eyes widening. “She should have gotten eaten by penguins. That would have been a death worthy of her.”
Milo smiled reluctantly and laughed. “She would have liked dying by penguin.”
Demarien wrapped his arm around Milo’s shoulder. They had all loved Milo’s great-aunt, but his friend had always had a special relationship with Dahlia. She had taken care of Milo for most of his life.
“Did you see my dad?” Milo asked, face growing hard. “He talked on the phone for half the ceremony. I almost turned around to thank him when he finally stopped.”
Felix leaned across the table and grinned. “You were hugging Demarien, so you didn’t see Puck take his phone and throw it toward the back of the room. One of Dahlia’s book club friends caught it, then glared at Alonzo as she stomped on it.”
“It was a little scary but really hot.” Puck took his new drink from their server. “I think I’m in love with her.”
Demarien chuckled. “Mrs. Holliday’s husband may object.”
Puck shrugged. “It’s okay. We can be a throuple.”
Milo smiled again, and Demarien let out a small breath of relief. He hated seeing Milo sad. His friend had even eaten some of the cheese sticks they ordered, and Miloneverate junk food. He was a health nut.
Milo’s parents had been shit while he was growing up, so he stayed with Dahlia in Myrtlewood Bay for most of his childhood. His aunt was extremely wealthy, so Milo’s dad, Alonzo, had wanted to ingratiate himself with her. Demarien didn’t understand why Alonzo thought abandoning his son with Dahlia would impress her.
“I know what you all are doing,” Milo said, rubbing his hands through his styled hair. “I’ll be okay. I promise. I know you all loved her, too.”
Puck swallowed hard and looked away. “She was family. My foster families didn’t give a damn about me, but she did. She tried to adopt me, you know.”
Milo smiled softly. “I know. Your mom wouldn’t sign over her rights.”
Puck had spent his childhood bouncing between foster care and his mom. He had spent more time with Demarien, Milo, and Felix’s families than he had with his own.
Demarien sighed. “I don’t know what we would have done without her. Dad worked so much and never had any time off to spend with me. Dahlia stepped up and helped. She and Abuela taught me how to cook, and that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He smiled and fiddled with the frayed friendship bracelet on his wrist. “I remember Dahlia telling me that the key to cooking was to follow your heart. Recipes were only suggestions.”
Milo leaned his head on Demarien’s shoulder. “She left the family cookbooks to you.”
Demarien blinked away his tears. The box of cookbooks had arrived at his apartment yesterday. Generations of the Toro family had added their own recipes to the books, and Dahlia had decided to give those tohim. The spicy Italian woman completely owned his heart.
Felix wiped his eyes again. “I hate even thinking about it, but when it’s her time, I think Abuela will leave the Montenegro family cookbooks to you, too, Demarien. She’s given up on teaching me how to cook.”
Demarien snorted. “You set her kitchen on fire trying to make tortillas. Tortillas, Felix.”
Felix smiled. “She said my dad was just as bad.”
Felix’s grandmother had raised him when his parents died. Felix had been ten and heartbroken. Abuela had taken him inand done her best, but the woman had spent almost as much time working as Demarien’s dad had.
