Page 46 of The Last Goodbye

Why the fuck was she groaning over water?

And why the fuck did my dick just shoot to life over it?

I shifted in my seat, sending a silent message to the boner straining against the zipper of my jeans to calm the fuck down.

“My ex-girlfriend said it often.”

“What was her name?” she asked.

“What are we? Girlfriends? You don’t think we’ve shared enough for one day?” I teased.

“I shared more than you. Tell me about this ex. It’s the least you can do after forcing me to bring up all my childhood trauma.” She smiled and flashed me her pearly white teeth.

“Fine. I dated Celine for a few years, and we broke up last year.”

“Years, huh? I didn’t expect that.” She leaned forward, rubbing her hands together, as if she was even more interested now.

“You didn’t think I could be in a long-term relationship?”

“I mean, it would take a special woman to put up with your moody ass for a long period of time,” she said, tucking the hair behind her ear. “I’m kidding, actually. You just seem so—guarded. I wouldn’t guess you were a relationship guy.”

“Well, according to her, I’m not. She didn’t live here, so most of our relationship was long-distance, which made things even more challenging.”

The truth was, the long-distance part hadn’t killed it. That had just exposed what was already there: two people trying to sync lives that didn’t actually run on the same rhythm. Me here, rooted in this place, this kitchen, this restaurant. Her orbiting a different world entirely, expecting me to eventually step out of mine and into hers.

“So what was the straw that broke the camel’s back? Did one of you cheat? Snap under the pressure of the distance? Get bored with monogamy?”

I laughed. She was quite possibly the most intriguing woman I’d ever met. Not because the question was right but because it wasn’t even close. She was throwing darts in the dark, trying to make our relationship sound messy.

“Nope. It was much less dramatic than that.” I shrugged. “She wanted to get married, and I wasn’t there. So she decided that I was in a relationship with my restaurant and gave me an ultimatum to move and live with her, or call it quits.”

She’d wanted a version of me that didn’t exist.

And I didn’t resent her for wanting that. I just hadn’t been able to become what she wanted.

“Damn. That sounds very theatrical. The old ultimatum.”

“Well, compared to cheating or boredom about monogamy, it was just more cut and dried than that. We wanted different things,” I admitted.

No blame. No bitterness. Just fact.

“So, are you married to your restaurant, Chef McGrumpy?”

“I am committed to my restaurant. It’s supported my sister and me for years. It’s paid for both of our educations and given us a hell of a lot more stability than we ever had when we were growing up. It also gives me a shit ton of joy, by allowing me to do what I love. I’ve yet to find a woman who can do all of those things.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right woman.” She hiccuped again, which made her laugh even more.

“I suppose you’re right.” I pushed my chair back a bit, stretching my legs and crossing them at the ankles. “How about you. Do you have a boyfriend back home?”

She waved her hand in front of her. “This may surprise you, but I’m not very trusting, and I’m extra cautious when it comes to men.”

I chuckled. “You don’t say? Is that why you punch people who startle you?”

“It’s a lifetime of protecting myself,” she said, and though her words were touched with humor, I could tell there was a deeper meaning behind them.

“I think that douchebag architect would like to date you.”

Her face grew more serious. “The douchebag architect would like to be my father’s first choice of architects, so yes, I think he’d happily sleep with William Winchester’s daughter if that would seal the deal.”