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Authors: Maureen Smith
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forkful of bourbon baked beans. “So how was your day?”
“Busy. Productive.”
“I bet. Big day tomorrow.” She grinned at him. “How’s your adrenaline? Through the roof yet?”
“Not quite.”
“Really?” That gave her pause. “Well, give it a few more hours, and you’ll be bouncing off the walls.”
“Probably.” His answering smile was distracted. “How was your day?”
“Good. Samara and I had a conference call with Reese’s sister, Raina, to finalize the plans for Reese’s baby shower next Saturday. We really wanted to have it in Sterling’s garden, but it’s going to be too cold. So we’re having it at the restaurant. Wait till you see how we decorate the place. It’s going to be so beautiful.”
“Yeah?” Quentin murmured, chewing his food.
Lexi grinned wryly. “Wait, what am I thinking? You don’t care about decorations.
You probably won’t even notice them ’cause you’ll be too busy flirting with all the single women there.”
“Of course,” Quentin drawled. “That’s what I do.”
Hearing the note of sarcasm in his voice, she arched a brow. “That is what you do.”
“You never know,” he said mildly. “I just might surprise you and keep to myself at the party.”
“You?” As Lexi started to laugh, he pinned her with a look that instantly shut her up.
Ducking her head over her plate, she reached for another rib.
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
It was Quentin who spoke first. “What else did you do today?”
“Not much.” Lexi hesitated. “I went to see Mom.”
“Yeah?” His expression softened. “How’d that go?”
She shrugged. “It went.”
Quentin frowned. He knew all too well about her tumultuous relationship with her mother, knew about the physical and emotional scars she bore. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She forced a bright smile. “She really appreciated the bottle of wine.”
Quentin gave her a skeptical look.
“She did,” Lexi insisted. “She thanked me, said she’d enjoy it.”
“Okay.” Quentin searched her face, his eyes gentle and discerning. “What’d you argue about?”
“The usual.” A smile of bitter irony touched her mouth. “If nothing else, Mom’s consistent.”
Quentin’s jaw clenched. He’d always wanted to protect her from her mother, and it bothered him that he couldn’t.
“I probably shouldn’t have gone to see her so soon after getting back,” Lexi murmured ruefully. “I should have allowed the glow from Burgundy to wear off first.”
“Mine definitely hasn’t,” Quentin said quietly.
They traded soft smiles.
After another moment, Lexi sighed. “I’ve been thinking.”
Quentin set his empty plate down. “About?”
“How small my world is. How limited my experiences have become in recent years.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“I’m a professional chef, and I’d never even been to Burgundy.”
“You’ve been to other parts of France,” Quentin pointed out, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Not to mention several other countries. You’re one of the most well traveled people I know, Lex.”
“Maybe.” She released a deep breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m starting to feel restless. Like my life has settled into a routine.”
Quentin looked bemused. “You signed a six-figure book deal two years ago. Your first cookbook hits the shelves next month. A whole new world’s about to open up for you.”
At that, Lexi broke into a chorus of “A Whole New World” from the animated movie Aladdin. “Come on, Red,” she teasingly cajoled Quentin by invoking her affectionate nickname for him—“Red” being short for Reddick. “You sing Peabo Bryson’s part.”
“I don’t think so.” Quentin chuckled, taking a swig of water.
She grinned at him. “Do you know that song was playing in my head during our balloon ride?”
“Really?” Quentin paused to consider the lyrics, which she’d
“Busy. Productive.”
“I bet. Big day tomorrow.” She grinned at him. “How’s your adrenaline? Through the roof yet?”
“Not quite.”
“Really?” That gave her pause. “Well, give it a few more hours, and you’ll be bouncing off the walls.”
“Probably.” His answering smile was distracted. “How was your day?”
“Good. Samara and I had a conference call with Reese’s sister, Raina, to finalize the plans for Reese’s baby shower next Saturday. We really wanted to have it in Sterling’s garden, but it’s going to be too cold. So we’re having it at the restaurant. Wait till you see how we decorate the place. It’s going to be so beautiful.”
“Yeah?” Quentin murmured, chewing his food.
Lexi grinned wryly. “Wait, what am I thinking? You don’t care about decorations.
You probably won’t even notice them ’cause you’ll be too busy flirting with all the single women there.”
“Of course,” Quentin drawled. “That’s what I do.”
Hearing the note of sarcasm in his voice, she arched a brow. “That is what you do.”
“You never know,” he said mildly. “I just might surprise you and keep to myself at the party.”
“You?” As Lexi started to laugh, he pinned her with a look that instantly shut her up.
Ducking her head over her plate, she reached for another rib.
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
It was Quentin who spoke first. “What else did you do today?”
“Not much.” Lexi hesitated. “I went to see Mom.”
“Yeah?” His expression softened. “How’d that go?”
She shrugged. “It went.”
Quentin frowned. He knew all too well about her tumultuous relationship with her mother, knew about the physical and emotional scars she bore. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She forced a bright smile. “She really appreciated the bottle of wine.”
Quentin gave her a skeptical look.
“She did,” Lexi insisted. “She thanked me, said she’d enjoy it.”
“Okay.” Quentin searched her face, his eyes gentle and discerning. “What’d you argue about?”
“The usual.” A smile of bitter irony touched her mouth. “If nothing else, Mom’s consistent.”
Quentin’s jaw clenched. He’d always wanted to protect her from her mother, and it bothered him that he couldn’t.
“I probably shouldn’t have gone to see her so soon after getting back,” Lexi murmured ruefully. “I should have allowed the glow from Burgundy to wear off first.”
“Mine definitely hasn’t,” Quentin said quietly.
They traded soft smiles.
After another moment, Lexi sighed. “I’ve been thinking.”
Quentin set his empty plate down. “About?”
“How small my world is. How limited my experiences have become in recent years.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“I’m a professional chef, and I’d never even been to Burgundy.”
“You’ve been to other parts of France,” Quentin pointed out, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Not to mention several other countries. You’re one of the most well traveled people I know, Lex.”
“Maybe.” She released a deep breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m starting to feel restless. Like my life has settled into a routine.”
Quentin looked bemused. “You signed a six-figure book deal two years ago. Your first cookbook hits the shelves next month. A whole new world’s about to open up for you.”
At that, Lexi broke into a chorus of “A Whole New World” from the animated movie Aladdin. “Come on, Red,” she teasingly cajoled Quentin by invoking her affectionate nickname for him—“Red” being short for Reddick. “You sing Peabo Bryson’s part.”
“I don’t think so.” Quentin chuckled, taking a swig of water.
She grinned at him. “Do you know that song was playing in my head during our balloon ride?”
“Really?” Quentin paused to consider the lyrics, which she’d
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