Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Oh, my god. Rather than disregard what he’d said, it seemed like they were considering it. That they’d heard his words.
But now they weren’t sure what to say.
My mom exchanged a look with my dad that screamed he needed to do something. He cleared his throat as his gaze connected with mine. My folks had seen me in my work clothes lots of times, either before a shift or when I’d come home after, but tonight was so different.
Maybe it was the first time they’d truly seen this side of me.
They’d gotten to witness what I was capable of and tried so hard to excel at. Was it foolish to hope they’d noticed the passion I’d put into the dishes I’d served tonight?
“If this is what you want,” my father’s eyes contained something that looked strangely like pride, “then your mother and I are happy for you.”
“Yes.” My mom pressed her lips together as she struggled to put how she was feeling into words. “This was really good, Sydney.” She found the word she’d been looking for. “It was impressive.”
My heart stumbled and soared. Praise was so rare from them that I didn’t exactly know how to handle it. The ground beneath me was unstable.
“Thank you.” I smoothed a hand down the front of my jacket, unsure of where to go from here. “I’ll, uh, let you finish your desserts. I should get back to the kitchen.”
It was mostly so I could catch my breath. The last few minutes had been a blur, and I worried if I stayed in one place too long it’d suddenly stop being real. I glanced at the man beside me and jerked my head toward the door.
“Can I see you for a minute?”
He nodded and led the way. The moment the kitchen door finished swinging shut behind us, closing us off from the other guests, his handsome face lit up with an enormous grin. “Finally ready to talk to me, huh?”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why’d you do this? I could have bombed. You and Colin risked your company’s reputation on this dinner.” They’d risked it for me.
He waved it off like I was talking nonsense. “Please. Neither of us was worried. We knew you’d nail it.”
I swallowed a breath and tried to calm my racing heart, but it was hopeless, especially the longer I was near him. He looked so happy, so sure, and I didn’t get it at all. I wasn’t his girlfriend anymore.
Had he done this as, like, a consolation prize? I couldn’t be with him, but at least I could have an opportunity to get my dream job.
“Well, I’m glad you guys are okay.” I forced the painful words out. “That what we had didn’t come between you two.”
He didn’t respond for a long time, and the moment suspended between us as the intensity of his stare increased. It reminded me of the one he’d given me over a year ago across the shallow end of his pool. The connection between us was the same as it had been then.
Magnetic.
Unstoppable.
“Colin came around,” he said, “once I told him I was in love with you.”
The power of his words knocked me back, sent me spinning. “What?” There was no way I’d heard him right. “You . . . love me?”
His grin was wide and beautiful. “It’s not a big deal.”
I couldn’t help the way my gaze darted around the kitchen, checking to make sure there weren’t cameras and that I was still in reality. He loved me. Preston Lowe was in love with me.
“No,” I whispered. “That’s a very big deal.”
He strode to me, closing the space between us with a few deliberate steps. His gaze slid over my face as if tracing every curve and wanting to memorize the way I looked at him right now.
His voice was deep and hypnotic. “You’re right. It is.” His hands clasped on my face, pulling me in. “But you love me too, so I figure we can be a big deal together. What do you say?”
There was no other answer, and it came from me in a rush. “I say yes.”
A thrill shot through his eyes, and he murmured it right before his lips captured mine in a searing, passionate kiss. “Good girl.”
TWENTY-NINE
Preston
When the timer on Sydney’s phone trilled, she tapped the screen to silence it and donned a pair of oven mitts. I stood back in my kitchen, out of her way, as she pulled open my oven door and removed the beef tenderloin she’d spent the last twenty minutes roasting.
I’d moved into this apartment one week ago, which meant she’d currently cooked more times in my kitchen than I had. I tried to help her with dinner as much as I could, but I sucked and mostly got in the way. We both liked it better when she was in charge of cooking, and I only played a minor role.