Page 77

I didn’t know if I would have understood Shane’s words if his mouth hadn’t been on my ear.

Unable to respond, I wrapped my arms around him and held him as tightly as I could.

The next morning, we sat down for breakfast in our freshly cleaned clothes and dry shoes.

We were the only guests in the dining room, as the others were probably still asleep in their vacation homes at six in the morning.

A mixture of dawn and outdoor lighting shone through the window where we were sitting. Steam danced from Shane’s cup of tea. He reached out and placed his hand on mine.

“Thanks for the evening,” he whispered to me across the table.

“It was wonderful. Despite the hike in the freezing rain.”

“Admit it!” He chuckled. “That was the highlight.”

I snorted, half amused, half incredulous. “Next time, I’ll pass.”

His tired eyes lit up. “Really? Where shall we go next time?”

My heart fluttered a few beats too fast. “Hmm . . . maybe to the coast?”

Shane smiled. “Yes. That sounds good. Then I can teach you how to surf.”

I waved my free hand dismissively. “No, thanks. I’m perfectly happy watching you from the beach.”

Shane intertwined our fingers. He lifted them up and kissed the back of my hand. “We’ll see.”

I nodded, and he took a big spoonful of his oatmeal. He ate it with relish. “There’s something in it that was also in my mom’s oatmeal. It’s hard to describe. It’s like sitting at home with my parents for breakfast.”

“Smells and tastes can evoke the most intense memories,” I agreed. “Maybe it’s the same syrup and the same oats or the same milk or all three that make up your own taste, and suddenly you’re fourteen again in your parents’ kitchen.”

“Weird,” Shane muttered as he put another spoonful in his mouth.

I stirred my coffee deep in thought. “I hope to achieve that with my cooking. That it is unique in a way that it is unmistakable, and impressive that people remember it when they taste something similar.” I shook my head. “I think I want my own little restaurant. Maybe my own food truck. Or a snack bar on the beach. Simple food that makes people happy.”

Shane’s fingers squeezed my hand. “That sounds amazing. I’ll support you in any way I can.”

Surprised, I lifted my head. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I . . . ”

“I know that,” he interrupted me. “But I want you to know that I’m with you. With your plans. I’m flexible enough to support you.”

Shane’s confidence made me feel like I was floating above the ground. It overwhelmed me. Even though I wanted it. “Right now, it’s enough for me to be able to tell you about it and think out loud.”

With a decisive nod, Shane ran his thumb over my wrist. “I want to know everything.”

We continued eating in silence until I leaned back in my chair.

“Hmm. I wanted to discuss something with you too.” Shane’s relaxed demeanor crumbled at the edges and an uncertain grin twitched around his lips. He made me curious. Strangely enough, I wasn’t worried about what his concern might be, but still . . .

“What is it?” I asked.

“I guess you’re here for Thanksgiving too.”

I shrugged. “Sure. It’s not worth traveling for the few hours I have off.”

He nodded in agreement. “Same here. That’s why my brother, his girlfriend, and my parents decided to visit me the following week.”

“Oh.” I furrowed my brow in confusion. I wouldn’t be seeing much of Shane during those days. That was okay. At least we had the nights. When our shifts matched. “That’s good, right?”

“Yes. Sure. Anyway, I wanted to introduce you to everyone.” He tapped his finger on the tablecloth and his eyes met mine. “I’d like to introduce you to my family, Ruben.”

“As your roommate?” I couldn’t follow him.

He widened his eyes. “No!” He didn’t say “you dummy,” but his expression implied it. “As my boyfriend.” He studied me thoughtfully. “Unless it’s too soon for you. I don’t want to rush you or love bomb you. It’s the next step to me.”

A cocktail of emotions rode a roller coaster through me. It was too fast. Much too fast. On the other hand, would it be so bad to meet Shane’s family? I had never met anyone’s family before.

“Can I think about it?”

Finally, Shane looked at me the way he always did. With a smile, a little mischievous. “Of course. I didn’t want to rush you. I just wanted you to know what I was thinking.”

“Thanks.” I squeezed his hand. At least now I had something else to think about.