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She was being humble. If even I—someone who didn’t know a thing about cuisine and only dined out on occasion—had heard ofand longed to livethe Zarato experience, that meant the buzz around the place was as strong as it could get.
“That’s truly amazing,” Lucas said, and I could hear in his voice that he meant every word. He turned to Adele. “You must be so proud of your daughter.”
“I couldn’t be any prouder,” Adele answered, her eyes watering. “But you know that don’t you, Mateo?”
A silence settled around us at Adele’s words, who had remained quiet during dinner, the atmosphere immediately turning heavy with the reminder of Adele’s looming illness.
“Yeah,” Lucas finally said. “Of course, we are.”
Alexia threw an arm around her mom, squeezed her shoulders, and mouthed athank youat Lucas. Then, she said more firmly, “And Lucas, I’m serious. I know how to spot talent. That’s how I met my wife. She started low in the kitchen, all raw potential, and now she’s the sous chef at Zarato, so you never know.” She tilted her head. “You know, I think you two should come. It’ll be on the house, for everything you’ve done.”
Oh, oh wow.
“You don’t have to, Alexia,” Lucas answered, voicing my thoughts. Although I could hear a spark of curiosity in his words. “It’s really okay.”
“I insist,” she answered firmly. Then, she pulled out a card from her bag, placed it on the table, and added, “Rosie will love it.” As if that fact changed something.
And Lucas’s hand left mine and reached out for the card.
It was much, much later, well into the night, when a noise woke me. It was like a whimper, but deeper. Guttural.
At first, I thought I was dreaming, but then, the sound came again. That time louder. More urgent.
I sat up in bed, surveying the dimly lit space, stopping where I knew Lucas would be asleep on the couch. Only he wasn’t. He couldn’t be sleeping, shifting so restlessly.
Another whimper left him, now tangling with his rocky breathing, and it froze me on the spot. Because it sounded like… like he was struggling to get air into his lungs. Like he couldn’t breathe.
Icy fear propelled me off the bed and forward. Until I was kneeling on the floor by the couch.
I whispered, “Lucas?” But Lucas thrashed from one side to the other as my hands reached out to his shoulders. I rose my voice to a gentle but firm tone. “Lucas, wake up.”
He muttered something, but it must have been in Spanish, because it was something I didn’t understand.
With all the gentleness I could muster, I trailed my hands up, all the way to his cheeks. “Lucas, please. You need to wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
His jerky motions came to a sudden stop, and his eyes blinked wide open, revealing two brown wells of fear.
My chest constricted at the sight, finding it hard to put up a calm front for him, and even harder not to think about how much I cared for him and how much I hated seeing him in pain.
“You were having a bad dream,” I told him, the nerves creeping into my voice. “But it’s all right, now. You’re awake.”
His gaze started clearing very, very, slowly. But the fear, the despair, was still there. Etched into his expression.
My grip on his face grew a little desperate. “You’re fine. It was a bad dream, but you’re okay,” I repeated.
Lucas’s palm fell on top of my hand. His skin was cool, damp.
“Rosie,” he breathed out. “You’re here.” No explanation, no smile, no attempt to brush it away with a joke.
“Scoot over,” I told him, so I could climb on the couch with him.
Without a word Lucas moved as much as he could while remaining on his back. I lay down, facing him, tucking myself into his side. I locked one of my arms around him. His shirt stuck to his chest.
“I’m all sweaty, Rosie. I—”
“It’s all right,” I said, scooting even closer and letting my fingers draw soothing circles over his chest. “I like my men sweaty and sleepy,” I told him. “So go back to sleep. I’m here now.”
Lucas didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t even try to squeeze me against his body, like he had done so many times before. And that was okay. Because right now, he was the one who needed me. So I stayed right where I was. My body hanging on the very edge of the couch as I warmed his body with mine. My touch and voice somehow soothing him back to sleep.
