subject. “So, is this cake vanilla or chocolate?” We could talk about this tomorrow.
Gran smiled. “Chocolate of course, just like you like it.” She reached out and pinched my cheek. My mother died when I was seven. I had a handful of memories of her, all good ones, but Gran really stepped up and took over in the parent department. Especially when my dad started drinking to numb the loss.
My cousin Richie leaned into me. “So how old is she?” He tipped his head toward the kitchen where Millie was cooking. You could see her through the open window, hair tied up in a top-knot as she banged the fryer with a metal spoon and cursed at it. I grinned. Something about seeing her mad turned me on.
“Too old for you, baby cuz.” I slung an arm around his shoulders and he frowned.
“I don’t mind a cougar,” he informed the table, getting a smack to the back of the head from my aunt.
I chuckled. “You’re nineteen and she’s an elitist snob with the tongue of a viper. She’d chew you up and spit you out.”
Gran took a long sip of the sweet tea I’d set at her table. Ten tablespoons of sugar, just like she liked it.
“She sounds perfect for you, Ash,” Gran observed with one raised eyebrow.
Hah! I laughed, genuinely, before I remembered this day and what it meant, and then the smile was wiped from my face.
Jenna.
How could it have been one year without her? Being a twin meant you were never alone, not in the womb, not on a bad day, not on your birthday, you always had someone to share every milestone with. Jenna would have a fucking cow if she knew I was selling the bar. It was her dream to take over my father’s mess and turn it into something cool. Instead, I barely kept it afloat, and now I was done. Without Jenna pushing me forward with all her dreams for this place, I just couldn’t go on with it.
“Did you visit her today?” My voice was low, reverent. Jenna was buried out at a cemetery where I grew up, near my gran’s farm a couple hours away. I tried to visit when I could and lay flowers on her gravestone, although it didn’t make me feel any better.
The table went quiet and Gran reached out and took my hand in hers. “Pastor Kinney and I said a few words and left some flowers. I cleared the weeds and then read to her a little.”
I nodded. It did nothing for the dead to make a gravesite pretty. That was more for the living.
“Let me check on the food.” I stood, wanting to get away from the heaviness at the table.
I checked in on the older couple at table six and refilled their drinks before heading for the kitchen. Crossing the space, I pushed through the door to the kitchen and found Millie bent over, tight little ass right in my face as she rifled through the cabinets.
“What’s taking so long?” I asked her.
She stood slowly and spun, face red and sweaty as she gave me a look of absolute hatred. This woman was capable of murder, you could see it in her eyes, a feral wild look.
“All of your condiments are past the best by date. I’m trying not to poison your family.” Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass and I couldn’t help but notice the way her delicate silk top stuck to her body.
“Best by is just a suggestion. They’ll be fine,” I told her and rapped the counter twice with my knuckles. “The sooner we feed them, the sooner they’ll leave.”
And the sooner this shit day could be over with. I gave her my back and grinned when she hurled a string of curse words behind me.
I loved a woman who wasn’t afraid to let the f-bomb fly. Millie was no Darcy, that was for sure.
Chapter 6
Millie
Okay, this had reached epic level weird. I was in the back of a random dude’s kitchen while he celebrated getting my dead husband’s heart.
Mayday, mayday, someone save me.
I should leave. Just drop the fucking spatula and go. This wasn’t me, this was seriously scary stalker behavior. Why didn’t I just tell him the second I saw him? All of these thoughts ran through my head as I fried the disgusting frozen food with shame. If my fellow chefs could see me now, they would shit a brick.
What I wouldn’t give for some