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A few more steps and we clear the hallway, the scent of fresh delicious waffles baking or cooking, I don’t know the proper waffle term, fills the air with the promise of happiness in my mouth. I adore waffles which is why my mother always makes them for me. To hell with my bare feet. If I’m offered a waffle, I’ll eat a waffle.
Bringing the kitchen into view, Bella is behind the island, looking beautiful, relaxed, and casual in a T-shirt and leggings. Her gaze lifts and lights at our approach, no anger or judgment in sight.
“There she is,” she greets. “Morning, Allie. I have fresh coffee ready and waiting.” She walks to the thermal pot, pours the contents in a cup, and by the time Dash and I are on the opposite side of the island, she sets my new cup in front of me.
“That’s my version of the cinnamon churro latte they have at the office,” she explains.
“Thank you,” I say. “And good morning, Bella.” I lift the mug to my lips.
She smiles a knowing smile and wiggles a brow. “Yes, it is.”
I set the mug down before I drink. “Okay, let’s just get the elephant in the room dealt with. I feel really weird right now.”
“Why?” she asks dramatically. “You two are grown adults. And if you want to roll around in the sheets together you have every right.”
My cheeks heat and I press my hand to my face, peaking through my fingers at her. “Did you really just say that?”
“Yep.” She points at the cup. “Now try the coffee.”
I drop my hand and stop fighting the moment. I sip the warm beverage and approve. “It’s just like the one at the office.”
Dash nudges my arm. “You’re supposed to say better.”
“Better,” I say quickly. “It actually is. I’m not saying that because your brother just told me to.”
She scowls at Dash. “Stay out of this. It’s just your kitchen. I’m in it now.” She refocuses on me. “You like waffles, right?”
“Love them,” I promise. “Which is why my mother makes them every time we have Sunday brunch.”
“Perfect. You two sit and get comfortable. I’m about ready to get the food on the plates.” She turns back to the stove.
“Mom loved to cook,” Dash explains. “She taught Bella and it’s kind of her hobby.”
“Did she teach you?” I ask, my nerves starting to fade.
“She tried,” he admits. “I sucked.”
“He really didn’t try,” Bella chides from over her shoulder.
My lips curve. “I somehow think your sister is right.”
“Hmmm,” he says. “Probably, but I try never to tell her she’s right. She starts thinking that’s always the case.”
I love how they are together, teasing and having fun, with an obviously close bond, and I wonder about the brother I read about and that Dash lost. Was he Bella’s brother, too?
She returns to the island with two plates, setting one in front of me and Dash, waffles covered in strawberries and whipped cream. “This looks and smells amazing,” I declare.
“They are amazing,” she says. “Because my mama taught me right.” She motions to Dash and then me. “This will be the first Saturday Dash isn’t on his computer, typing while I cook. I kind of love your influence though his publisher wants his book early.”
“I’m not turning it in early,” Dash snaps, picking up his fork.
I take a cue and pick up my fork as well, suddenly feeling I need to eat rather quickly. “I’ll go home after we eat so you can focus.”
He scowls. “Better yet, you can stay and read the damn piece of shit.”
Bella brings her plate to the end of the island and sits down next to me, her brows dipped. “Wait. You want her to read your work in progress?” She motions between us with her fork. “What insanity is this? You never let anyone read your work in progress.”
“That’s what I said,” I agree readily.
Dash has another opinion. “Yeah, well, she’s an ex-editor at my ex-publisher. She knows books and she’s read my books.”
“He just needs to read it from the beginning,” I repeat yet again. “He’ll figure out what’s wrong if anything is wrong. I think he’s just letting the Hollywood thing get in his head.” I dig into my food. “Did I mention this looks marvelous?” I say again.
“Thank you,” she says. “And I think you’re right on Dash. The pressure is getting to him.”
Dash sips his coffee and says nothing while Bella turns the attention on me. “Any chance you might stay in Nashville, Allie?”
“My mom and stepdad are here,” I say, leaving out my mother’s cancer, which she may or may not know about. “So it’s tempting, yes. But I have a dream job in New York that I’d be kind of crazy for leaving, and the other Allison is supposed to be coming back to work.”
