Page 52 of Trapped for Christmas

“Then is everything okay?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I can do it the way you said.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to ruin things.”

“Nothing’s ruined, and you don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable.”

“I want to tell you, but I don’t want you to think less of me.”

Mason cupped his cheek. “That would never happen.”

“Where is the grumpy chef I’ve known for two years?”

Mason smiled. “Why don’t I talk first, and then it’s up to you if you want to share anything.”

Zeb nodded. Mason passed him the homemade garlic bread and a side salad. Once they both had their plates full, Mason started.

“I know I’m not an easy man to be with. Even before Epicure, partners would say I was too intense or that I put my career first. When my dad taught me to cook, I felt like I’d found a purpose in life. Leo and I were both quiet kids at first. Leo would get lost in his stories and isolate himself, hardly making friends. I wanted to fit in, so would use food to get people to like me.”

Zeb couldn’t imagine Mason like that, but he could see a younger version of this man baking cookies or cooking other treats to impress people.

“Then I opened Epicure, and I had a few short-term relationships, but there were also the same issues about not giving them enough time, or that they saw me more as a status symbol. It didn’t really matter to me. I had my great love in the restaurant. Then, two years ago, a nineteen-year-old brat walked into my office with a cocky mouth on him.”

Zeb laughed. That was fair. He had been cocky, even if it was all bravado. It was how he’d survived the streets. After what had happened with Brandon, he’d put his walls back up.

“I was smitten from the moment I met you, but you were nineteen and had just been through something horrific. You didn’t need a man who was twice your age bothering you, but I felt drawn to help you. I’ve always been good at spotting talent, and I saw something in you. It just took me a while to find the right place for you at Epicure. I didn’t think I was right for you, though. Having someone your own age who could cherish you was what you needed, so I kept you at arm’s length.”

“What changed?”

“You left and broke my heart.”

He said it so simply, but it felt like a gut punch to Zeb. He gasped, putting his hand on his chest as he felt it tighten.

“We’ll have none of that,” said Mason, taking hold of his hand. “I’m just being honest. I was mad at myself for being too proud to beg you to stay, and then when you came back on Thanksgiving, I thought I might have lost you. I’d pushed you to walk out into the arms of an abuser, and I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said fiercely, causing Mason’s eyes to widen. “I’m the idiot who fell for a handsome man promising me the world again, when all he wanted was someone he could lock up in his apartment and use like a . . . well, like a sex slave.”

“What the fuck, Zeb. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say, and I owe Hunter an apology.”

“Huh? What’s Hunter got to do with this?”

“He referred to me like that as well, and I had a go at him.”

“And so you fucking should. I’ll be having words with him tomorrow.”

Zeb burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny, Zeb. Why the fuck is he using words like that?”

“You know Hunter would never hurt a fly, so you can stop beating your chest and go back to your story.”

Mason grumbled. There was his grumpy chef. Was he still Zeb’s? He wasn’t sure what Mason would think once he’d told him everything, and he needed to do that before things got too serious. If Zeb was too damaged for Mason, he needed to know sooner rather than later.

“Where was I? Right, then you came to live with me, and I knew I wanted you the way I always had, and I didn’t want to make excuses anymore.”