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Monroe has his back to me, tossing locally grown green beans in a lemon sauce. “Hey,” he says. “I'm glad you're here. Can you pass me the garlic? I've kind of got my hands full right now.”
“Me too,” I say, causing him to glance back. I rock the magazine back and forth in my hands. “It's out.”
“What does it say?” he asks casually, turning back to the stove.
“I don't know, I haven't read it yet.”
“Well, let's hear it.”
“You want me to read it out loud?”
“Yeah, rip the band aid off. What does he have to say about The Backyard?”
I turn to the page and there's a giant picture of the front of the restaurant. The sign is glowing in that pretty blue light making it look so inviting. Clearing my throat, I start reading out loud.
“To some, The Backyard might be a local spot, to others it's a place they pass and just never take the chance to step inside. We all know that the city is full of small-time pizza places that will blow your taste buds away, and high-end restaurants that can leave you broke. The Backyard is neither. . .” My voice fades as my heart starts to sink. I'm not sure this is going to be good.
Monroe cocks his head, tilting his ear in my direction. “Go on, keep going,” he says.
“With its small dining room and low-key décor, it lends all its credit to the food. For me, The Backyard is a testament to what real food is all about. Monroe Martisse is not just the owner and head chef, he's the son of a national legacy, Jacques Martisse. A man who started with a small hole-in-the-wall and built something so great its name still gives me chills, The Roost. Monroe not only captures the feel of his father in his food, but he also embodies the very man himself. Bold flavors and creative combinations will leave you wanting more.”
Monroe's shoulders lift and he abandons the food to come to my side. “He loved it,” he says. “Holy shit, he actually loved it.”
“He loved it,” I repeat.
He sweeps me off my feet, lifting me up high and spinning me around. “I couldn't have done this without you, Arisa. Oh my god, I'm so happy,” he says with a big smile on his face.
I cup his cheeks and give him a kiss. “You did this, Monroe, you're an amazing chef and you deserve to be recognized for it.”
“No, we did this.” His eyes steady on mine. “I love you, Arisa.” The words fall out of his mouth easily.
“I love you, too.” I don't even have to think about it. I love this man. I love him for everything he is and will ever be. He's my rock, and I can't imagine my life without him.
We kiss. His lips are gentle, smothering mine with such need and love I can feel it all the way into my bones. I'm not sure what tomorrow will look like, or next week, or next year, but I know that as long as we have each other, I'll always be happy.
My love of cooking has met its match, but my love for him has no ceiling. I'd walk to the end of earth for this man. I'm his. He has my mind, body, and soul. Together, we'll be unstoppable, no matter what we do.
Two people who love each other. Two people who find joy in each other. Two people who can't live without each other. Sprinkle in some hot sex and you have the whole package.
It's the perfect recipe for happy life.
Epilogue
Monroe
One Year Later
“No peeking,” I say as I open her door and reach in to take her hands. Guiding her out of the car, I help her up the sidewalk. “A few more steps. All right, stop right here.”
“I don't like when you do this. I'm starting to think you get off on having me blindfolded.”
I smile, even though I know she can't see me. “You're not entirely wrong, but it's not the blindfold, it's the suspense. I love watching the way your lips curve and your teeth nibble on your bottom lip with a nervous excitement. I love the way your hands bind together, and your breathing gets heavy. It's sexy as hell.”
I'm right behind her. I wrap my arms around her waist and nuzzle my chin into the small crevasse of her neck. Her skin is soft and warm. I place light kisses up the side of her neck, making her giggle.
“I love that you think I'm sexy.” Arisa leans her head back against me and places her hands over mine.
“You're the sexiest woman on earth, and I'm the luckiest man alive.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, which. . .” I say, drawing out the last word as I unfurl myself from her body and take her hands again. “Is the whole reason we're here.”
