Simmer Down - Sarah Smith Page 0,37

someone who didn’t want to talk at all a minute ago.”

“Easy, tiger. If you keep hassling me, it’s back to loaded silence.”

His grin morphs into a smirk. “I was hoping for more days spent on the beach.”

I nod and try not to picture him walking out of the ocean like a naked ripped sea-god.

“Join the club,” I say. “I never in a million years thought I’d be living in Maui and running a food truck with my mom.”

He relaxes into his seat, his head lolling against the headrest as he turns to me. The gesture makes this feel like some strange brand of pillow talk.

“You’re not from Maui?”

I shake my head. “Born and raised in Portland, Oregon. My parents lived there until they retired. They wanted to live someplace warm year-round and chose Maui.”

“So you moved to be closer to them?”

“Sort of. Not at first.” I heave a sigh, wondering if it’s the smartest thing in the world to be so vulnerable in front of my competition. I opt for a shortened, sanitized version. “My dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer not long after they moved. He didn’t have much time left when they figured out what was wrong with him. So I dropped everything to be with him until he . . .”

I don’t say the rest. I don’t have to. By the pained look on Callum’s face, he knows exactly what happened.

“At the time I was managing my friend’s restaurant in Portland, and I loved it. But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t leave my mom alone in Maui, struggling in her grief under a mountain of medical bills. My dad’s treatment wrecked a lot of their savings.”

“So you gave everything up to take care of your mum?”

I nod, easing through a slow breath. As long as I stay measured and even in my tone of voice, I won’t break down.

“I promised my dad before he died that I would. And even if I hadn’t, I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had just abandoned her to fend for herself. I’m an only child, and the rest of her family is scattered all over the place. Her sister, my aunt, is the person I’m visiting in London actually.” I look down at my lap when I speak. I clear my throat, taking the extra moment to collect myself. “Plus, running a food truck was my parents’ dream. They always talked about doing it when they retired. But now it’s a way for my mom and me to spend time together while we support ourselves.”

I pause to take a breath, wondering if sharing this next part will make me feel even more vulnerable than I already do. “And it’s a way for me to live out my dad’s last wish.”

When I look up, his obnoxiously gorgeous face is twisted in an unfamiliar expression. Not pity, exactly, but not sadness. Something kinder. Empathy, I think. That wrinkle in his brow, the tenderness in his eyes, it’s like he understands exactly what it feels like to have your heart ripped out, your insides set on fire, when you lose a piece of your family forever.

“That’s incredible, Nikki. I bet that would make your dad so happy.”

I nod a thank-you. In the past it’s been so wrenching to talk about any of this. But speaking to Callum sets me at ease. How weird.

“Do you miss Portland?” he asks.

“A lot. Everything is so different there, from the quirky style of houses to the hipster food to the insane traffic and the nine months of rain. I never realized just how pleasant daily sunshine was until I moved to Maui.”

“Coming from England, it was a shock for me too.”

“I’m still getting used to it—and the number of hotels and resorts and vacation condos that seem to be everywhere,” I say. “Hopefully, I can go back to Oregon for a visit someday. I burned a lot of people I was close to when I moved though.”

“How do you mean?”

“When I got the news about my dad, I went into autopilot mode. The only thing that mattered was getting to Maui so I could be with him during treatment. I gave my notice at my job, packed my stuff, and left. I didn’t even say good-bye to most of my friends and coworkers. I just sent them texts telling them about what happened with my dad and that I had to leave right away. Most of them called to check up on me a few times

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