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Fewer things were more true. “They are. You’d like them.”
“I look forward to meeting them.”
Were we at aintroduce me to your friendspoint in our relationship? Since I’d already met his, it seemed so.
We talked some more, put away the food, and kept talking. I lost track of time as the rain slowed to a drizzle.
A gust of wind tore through the night, and I shivered at the sudden chill.
“You could always strip out of those wet clothes,” Kingston said.
The casual suggestion didn’t hit me as hard as before, but I still wasn’t up for any nudity outside of my own home. “I’m fine.”
He crawled back into the SUV, and grabbed something from the back seat. “Come here.” He crooked his finger.
I joined him, and sat next to him when he patted the vehicle. He wrapped us both in a fresh blanket.
“Better?” he asked.
Warm. Safe. Comfortable. Pressed against him? It was pretty much heaven. “Better.”
Silence settled between us. It was as comfortable as leaning against him. How screwed was I, that I wanted to make a habit of picnics in the rain with Kingston?
“We almost lost our first shop, too.” His voice was subdued.
“What happened?”
He sighed. “My mother was upset that I’d invested in such a piece of shit idea. She cut me off. Disowned me.” The pain in his voice was like a knife through the heart.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but... what are you going to do, right? Anyway, we were out of cash, and we were determined to make the thing take off. Every cent we made from the shop went back into it. We’d work the café all day, and then go to second jobs at night. Owen was cooking, and I was washing dishes. Working at a restaurant had the added bonus of free food. No air mattress, but we did have a shitty motel room with only one bed.”
“Wow.” I wanted to say I couldn’t imagine, but I had a pretty good idea. I hadn’t been close to starving, but it was rough in the beginning. “You spun it into something big, though.”
“We did. And there’s a lot of satisfaction in that.”
I wanted to ask if he ever repaired things with his mother, but was that appropriate when a relationship ended that way?
“I still don’t talk to her,” he said, as if reading my mind. “It doesn’t matter what we’ve done with the place, to her it’s still not a proper way to earn a living. When I figured out nothing I did would be good enough, I severed ties.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I had something better to say.”
Kingston kissed me on the forehead. “You mean it, and that’s what matters.”
As we settled into silence again, drowsiness pulled my eyelids shut. I struggled to pry them open again.
“Hey.” Kingston shook me gently. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
Embarrassment coursed through me. “I promise it’s not you.” Or rather, it was, but not in the way falling asleep on a date looked. I was letting my guard down around him.
“How much sleep do you get at night?”
“Enough.” Four to six hours.
He climbed from the SUV and helped me do the same. “Not enough,” he argued. “But I’m flattered you trust me enough to sleep here.”
I did. That should be a scary thought. It wasn’t, though.
