“Dad’s a stallion. He’s going to be just fine. That old horse ain’t going anywhere any time soon, I promise you.”
He sounded too positive. It almost made me think his dad was the opposite of what he was saying, that by telling himself his father was going to be okay it would somehow make it real. I supposed there was nothing wrong with optimism, but after the reality of my father dying, sometimes being in denial wasn’t all that beneficial. I had been truly heartbroken when my father had passed. I could only hope Hugh would not follow my father’s fate, being taken away from us all too soon.
I considered Hugh a second father who had always been in my life. He and Patricia had always been there for me, and I couldn’t have been happier that I was officially part of their family. I wasn’t sure who was more pleased that Drake and I had finally gotten together, me or Drake’s parents. Those two had continuously tried to get us together since we were younger. It had been cute, though I had thought it an embarrassment because anyone with eyes could easily guess how madly in love I was with him. I’m still not aware how I eventually let him go even after all the years of loving him, but I did. It was fortunate we had found each other again, thanks to Patricia’s plotting and matchmaking skills.
“Steaks are done!” Drake announced as he headed towards the table, setting the blue ceramic serving plate with the flawlessly peppered meaty goodness on it. The smell immediately made my stomach growl in a hungry protest. “I’m going get the pasta, but for the meantime, why don’t you take your seat and just enjoy the ambiance, dear wife?” Adding to the effect, he pulled a chair out for me, slightly bowing as I giggled and rolled my eyes at him.
“Had I known you’d be this great of a husband, I’d have bagged you years ago.” I was joking of course, since we both knew he had avoided me like the plague after he had taken my virginity.
A husky laugh came out of him, “I was a jerk, and I doubt I would have treated you the way you should be treated. I didn’t appreciate you like I should’ve, and I’m always going to be saddened by that,” he said while waiting for me to put my ass on the seat before walking away, looking a little dejected.
I hadn’t meant my comment to be taken so seriously. It was supposed to be a jest. I supposed, after today’s insane events with Shannon, the past was coming back to remind us what we had been like to each other then.
The second he came back with two filled pasta bowls, I decided to steer our conversations to a much lighter subject with no mentions of Shannon and all she entailed. He spoke about his new project that had Bass Cole and Emma Anderson on board, making me all sorts of excited for him since I loved those two on and off the screen. Their chemistry was so intense I would get goose bumps when Bass Cole turned that smoldering look of his on. Phew. Besides, after meeting them in Greece, Emma and I had become friendly. She and I would text each other randomly, wondering how the other was doing.
After their marriage and with Emma moving into Bass’s new home, she was now conveniently living about five minutes away from me. With my busy days, it was hard to recall memos I had told myself to remember. Even groceries, which was part of my weekly errands, were all but forgotten. Thank goodness Drake had stepped in, offering help when he didn’t have any work commitments. Without him, we would be living off olives and cheese.
“That was delicious. Thank you! Hopefully, one day you can come home to a cooked meal from me.” It was wishful thinking since I had been too exhausted to do much else after getting back from work. I could very well say hallelujah for Drake not having any events or galas to attend to because, at this rate, I would decline.
“No worries. We have a lifetime together. Maybe, when we’re in our sixties, you can cook for me then.” He was in that ‘our future’ mode once again.
Leaving our dishes on the table, we both took our wine glasses as we strolled towards the hammock. Once we set aside our drinks on the rattan table next to it, Drake situated himself first to give me a good nook area with his outstretched arm.
“This is definitely relaxing.” Hearing the soft waves and the bright stars, I took a moment to appreciate my life.
“Hmmm.” Drake smelled the base of my neck as if it was the greatest scent he had ever experienced. “I love the smell of sugar and flour on you.”
What?
“I do not smell like flour, do I?” I gave him a horrified look, hoping he was fucking joking. Sugar smell? Maybe sexy. But flour? Fuck to the no. “Please tell me you’re joking, Drake!”
He was grinning like an idiot. “I’m joking.” When my glare remained, he made a gesture of crossing his heart following with the Boy Scout swear. “But, if you still don’t believe me, let me sniff you,” he daringly suggested.