“Abby, I know that, but I could buy you things every day of our lives and still have more money than I could ever spend.”
“Some regular guy you are,” she said sarcastically.
“Abby,” Deirdra called over to them. “This delivery guy has other things to do, and it’s a really nice oven-range combo unit. Just like the ones you salivated over when you were in cooking school.”
Aiden arched a brow, hoping she’d accept it. “Come on, baby.”
“Fine,” she relented. “He can put it in the back of the kitchen until I can get it installed. The kitchen opens to the parking lot. Dee, Cait, can you let him in the kitchen door?”
The delivery man walked out, and Deirdra and Cait headed into the kitchen.
“The installers are coming Monday,” Aiden said. “It’ll be ready for you to cook for the judges Tuesday.”
“Thank you for everything, but—”
He pressed his lips to hers, silencing her, and said, “I know the buts, Abs.”
She banged her forehead on his chest. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of about a dozen intriguing things.”
With her father’s favorite music playing, the lights of love shining down on her, and the chatter of family, friends, and Aiden, Abby was thrilled with the aura of the Bistro. But she had so many butterflies in her stomach, she’d barely eaten a thing all night as her friends devoured their dinners and eagerly feasted on the fancy desserts she’d made. Aiden, Cait, and their friends doled out high praises, while Deirdra had been uncharacteristically quiet since the tasting began. She’d eaten a bowl of French onion soup, a heaping portion of shrimp etouffee, and seconds of the duck and coq au vin. She also had hearty helpings of grilled ratatouille salad and potato gratin. She’d even had some beef bourguignon, and she wasn’t a huge fan of beef, but she had yet to say a word. Abby didn’t get it. Deirdra was not one to keep her opinions to herself.
“Hey, Abby, can you pass me another one of those cream things?” Daphne asked.
“It’s called Paris-Brest, and it’s a choux pastry with a praline-flavored cream,” Abby said as she passed the dessert plate.
“You can have that. I need this napoleon pastry,” Cait said, reaching for another slice of mille-feuille. “How should I eat this? Cut it, or . . . ?”
Brant licked his spoon and said, “Eat it with your fingers.”
“Like an animal?” Cait looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“That way I can watch you lick them clean,” Brant said in a hushed voice. Unfortunately, he was not quite quiet enough to keep everyone else from hearing him.
Deirdra pointed her fork at him and said, “Listen here, Bee Gee. That’s my sister. Watch yourself.” She stabbed a piece of the croquembouche and popped it into her mouth.
When Abby had brought out the croquembouche—choux pastry puffs stacked into a cone shape and bound with threads of caramel—everyone had oohed and aahed, debating whether it was too pretty to eat. But Deirdra had said that nothing was too pretty to eat and had taken the first piece. Abby studied her sister’s reaction as she ate the dessert, but her face gave away nothing.
“Or at least make it worth her while, Brant. If you’re going to go there, you might as well offer to lick it off for her.” Grant smirked.
Jules dipped her finger into the cream from a Paris-Brest and held it up for Grant. “You can lick my fingers anytime.”
“Seriously, Jules?” Jock shook his head.
Jules narrowed her eyes, though she’d never been able to pull off a fierce look. Her face was too sweet, and her eyes were always happy, even as she said, “He’s going to be my husband. Deal with it, big brother. He can lick anything of mine he wants.”
“Jules!” Leni snapped, and everyone else laughed. “This wasn’t about you and Grant getting down and dirty. It was about Brant hitting on Cait.”
“Oh my God.” Cait blushed. “Can we please stop talking about Brant licking anything or hitting on me?”
Brant draped an arm over the back of her chair and said, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“You didn’t.” Cait sat up straighter and said, “I’m kind of losing my appetite.”
Everyone laughed.
Abby loved how Cait was finding her place among their friends. When everyone began talking at once about the food, the renovations, and how big a splash the Bistro was going to make, Cait was right in the middle of it. Abby hung on every word Deirdra said as she complimented the restaurant and talked with Leni about the marketing plans they’d come up with. But still, she said nothing about the food.
Aiden’s hand slid over Abby’s thigh as he leaned closer and whispered, “You seem on edge. Want to meet me in the office and I’ll take care of that for you?”
Heat darted through her with the memories of the delicious things he’d done to her that morning to take the edge off her nerves. “Yes,” she said, and holy hotness, her stomach flipped at the wickedness in his eyes. She was tempted not to say what she knew she had to, but once Aiden got his hands on her, there would be no hiding the dirty things they’d done. So she put her hand over his, lacing their fingers together, and said, “But as much as I want to, we can’t.”
“Later,” he promised, and kissed her.
“I’m definitely having Abby cater events at the winery,” Daphne exclaimed, drawing her attention. “I think this is the perfect place for my book club meetings, too.”
Cait asked about the book club, and Grant struck up a conversation with the guys about the bonfire they were having after the tasting. The more everyone chatted, the more anxious Abby became about Deirdra’s silence. She wasn’t even sure why it was so important to her to know what Deirdra thought of her cooking, but the importance became magnified with her sister’s silence.
Deirdra stabbed another piece of the croquembouche and held it up, twirling her fork as she inspected the pastry puff.
Abby couldn’t take it anymore and kicked Deirdra’s foot under the table.
“Ouch!” Deirdra glared at her. “What was that for?”
Abby leaned forward and lowered her voice to say, “You haven’t said a word about the food. Do you hate it that much?”
“No, I don’t hate it. How could you think that?”
“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”
Deirdra’s expression turned serious. “Because I’m freaking blown away by you, Abby, and I haven’t figured out the right words to say. I’m sitting in a restaurant that I thought would never find its legs, eating food that is better than I could get anywhere in Boston, and you made it. My little sister, the girl who would rush through homework so she could cook with our dad and never hesitated to take over after I went to college, staying on the island long after she should have. You have done something I never thought possible.”
Emotions brimmed in Deirdra’s voice, bringing tears to Abby’s eyes. She realized everyone else had gone silent and was watching them.
“You astound me, Abby, with your confidence, your courage, and your determination.” She glanced at Aiden, and then back at Abby, and said, “With your ability to leave all the bad shit behind and to love with your whole self. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier, but . . .” She shrugged, tears shining in her eyes. “I’m so damn proud of you.”