Before I can respond, he reaches into the bag beside him, pulls out the blanket, and holds it open. His body stays tense, like he’s still wrestling with something inside him, but his voice softens just enough.

“Come here.”

I hesitate.

“Kerry.” His voice is low and rough. A demand and a request all at once.

I go. I slowly slide into his lap. Not all at once, not with confidence but with hope. And when he wraps the blanket around me, then his arms around the blanket, I melt into the heat of him.

We don’t say much. We don’t need to. Our silence lingers, but it’s different now. It’s softer. Not quite peace, but not war either. Just the kind of quiet that says: I’m not ready to open up yet, but I’m trying.

So, I don’t push. I just rest against his chest and listen to the steady, grounding rhythm of his heartbeat.

After a long, wild day, I close my eyes and allow sleep to take me under. But just before I drift off, he leans in, and his lips graze my ear to whisper something only I can hear.

“I had fun today.” His voice is soft, laced with something vulnerably dangerous. “And you were right… you do make me want to beg for more.”

~~~

By the next day, every talk show, blog, and social media account is wondering who I am.

The following week, the entire country is ‘shipping’ Chef Grimes and His Decadent Dessert.

This morning, I wake up earlier than usual to see him off to work, but I’m met with a not-so-professional, more playfully romantic hug from behind.

He smirks, then places a magazine down on the counter, front and center, displaying a picture of us out on the town.

“It seems your syllabus is working.” His voice is smooth, teasing. “We’re fooling everyone.”

I smile, but my heart knows better as I lean back into the comfort of his embrace.

He’s right. We’re fooling everyone…except me.

Chapter 15

Wine, Whiskey, and Wicked Hands – Kerry

What a day. What a week. What an unpredictable summer this has been!

I feel like I’m on an adrenaline-pumping rollercoaster, and I love it! I’m talking about teaching. Yep, just teaching.

I’m almost tempted to make this gig permanent. Almost. But that’d be crazy, right? I still miss teaching in a big classroom but at the same time… I can’t imagine not seeing this family every day. The laughter, the chaos, the way we’ve all fallen into a rhythm—it feels right. But the contract says one year and one year only.

Still… I wonder if Vic would ever consider extending it.