Love You Forever (Serendipitous Love Book 5) Read online

  “Definitely not. We already have almost everything we need. But I was thinking, what if instead of just pancakes, we offered some options. People looking for something lighter might want crepes. Kids might want waffles, we could even get an iron that have different fun shapes, or even have one custom made with the Stacks logo. And… I mean, crepes stack. Waffles stack. And French toast, too. That stacks, just like pancakes.”

  Harlan laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. Crepes and waffles and French toast, huh?”

  “Yep. Crepes and waffles and French toast.”

  “I think it’s good. Maybe instead of serving the syrups to test on pancakes, we introduce your idea instead. He can’t really deny it if it tastes good, right? Not saying it’s a guarantee he wants to do it, but it—”

  “Plants the seed.” I nodded. “Right. And you’d be okay with that us doing that?”

  He turned around, eyebrow lifted. “There a reason I wouldn’t be?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just… I mean, it’s kind of a risk involved.”

  Harlan scoffed. “That’s what makes life fun, right?”

  “Right.” I cut my eyes away from his, turning back to face the counter. There was silence between us for a few moments, and then, “Harlan?”

  “Yeah?”

  I hesitated, then ran my tongue over my teeth. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome darlin’.”

  I closed my eyes, suppressing the urge to moan over the way that darlin’ washed over me. It wasn’t like it was some cutesy nickname reserved only for me, but still. When he said it to me, he used a different inflection, that, real or imagined, did things to me.

  “Hot damn!” he shouted, and my eyes flew open as I turned around, expecting to have to tend to an injury. Instead, I found him bobbing his head, dancing to imagined music as he pulled a spoon from his mouth. I laughed, wondering how something so downright silly could be so simultaneously sexy. “This is it, Syd,” he said, raising his hand to motion me over. “This is it. Goddamn, this is it.”

  “It can’t be that good,” I said, shaking my head as I approached the stove. He dipped a clean spoon into the syrup mixture, then lifted it, blowing to cool it off. When the temperature was right, he raised it to my lips, and I opened with no hesitation, closing my mouth around the spoon.

  My eyes went wide. “Oh my God, that’s amazing.” Harlan’s face spread into a big grin as I took the spoon from him, licking the back to get another taste. “What all did you put in there?”

  “Uh… blueberries, fresh squeezed lemon juice, brown sugar, the light maple, and… ah… shit. I can’t remember.”

  My eyes bucked even wider. “You can’t remember?! Harlan, what the hell? You didn’t write it down?! Well… well, shit. Umm… I think I tasted a little cinnamon? And some orange zest?”

  “Maybe if I taste it again…”

  I nodded. “Yes, do that, now.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, then took a step closer to me. “Now?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Uh… yeah, right now, while it’s still fresh on your mind.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, and the next thing I knew, my face was in his hands, and his lips were on mine.

  Holy crap.

  Just like I’d opened for that spoon, I parted my lips to accept Harlan’s tongue as he slipped it into my mouth. His hands dropped to my waist, gripping and pulling me closer as he deepened the kiss. He groaned a little as he explored my mouth, and that sound of his pleasure spurred my own. I melted into the hardness of his chest as he pulled back, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth, and caressing it with his tongue before he sucked it into his mouth. I whimpered as he pushed his tongue against mine again, licking and sucking and swallowing my moans. I was light-headed, completely out of breath, and hopelessly wet by the time he withdrew his mouth from mine.

  I still had the spoon in my hand, gripping it so tight my knuckles ached as my chest heaved against his. “Wha… what just happened?” I asked, still dazed, still relishing the heat of his hands at my waist.

  One side of Harlan’s mouth perked into a grin. “I… believe I just kissed you.”

  I ran my tongue over my still-tingling lips, then swallowed hard. “Okay. Um… did you remember the recipe?”

  His brow furrowed in confusion for a second, and then softened as he gave a light chuckle, and reached around me for something. A second later, he held a notepad in front of me. “I wrote the recipe down, Syd.”

  “Oh.” I blinked hard. “Oh. So… you didn’t really—”

  Whatever I was about to say – hell if I knew – was swallowed by the impact of Harlan’s lips against mine. He backed me against the counter as he pushed his tongue into my mouth this time, tasting and devouring me like he was hungry. I lifted my hands, slipping them over his chest to wrap around his shoulders and then up to rest at the base of his neck. His fingers dug into my waist as he pressed closer to me. Heat blossomed between my legs as I felt him harden against my stomach.

  “Harlan!”

  The sound of one of the servers calling his name, obviously searching for him, should have hit us like a bucket of cold water, but neither of us immediately stopped. Harlan pulled away slowly, coming back to my mouth for a few more soft kisses before he finally drew back, leaving me breathless again.

  “Are you still confused?” he asked with a small grin, lifting a hand to stroke my face.

  I pulled my lip between my teeth as I shook my head. “No.”

  “Harlan!”

  This time, the voice sounded closer, and Harlan glanced around before his gaze returned to me, full of regret. “I have to—”

  “Yeah,” I nodded, still winded. “Go. I – I’ll take care of this,” I said, gesturing at the simmering pot of blueberry citrus compote.

  He stared at me a few seconds longer before he turned to duck out of the kitchen to see about the front. I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers to my lips before I took a deep breath. If I focused, I could still feel the pressure of his hands, the rasp of his tongue, and the velvety warmth of his lips.

  Harlan had kissed me.

  He’d actually kissed me.

  Good thing I went to the groomer.

  The kitty was definitely purring now.

  “Short Stack!”

  I clapped my hand over my chest, willing my heart to stop racing as I came down from the shock of having my nickname yelled out as I tried to sneak past the open door of Daddy’s office.

  Dammit.

  My body was still humming from the thrill of Harlan’s kiss, and standing in front of my father definitely wasn’t the way to prolong it. I gave a little sigh of disappointment over my state of bliss getting cut short, and then backtracked, stepping into the office.

  “Did you need me for something, Daddy?” I asked that question with a smile, before I took in my surroundings. But as the smell of pork sausage and sugar-roasted pecans tickled my nostrils, my smile dropped into a frown. “What is all of this?!” I asked in disbelief, staring down at the loaded plate of sausage, pancakes, bourbon sauce and pecans. And bacon!

  Unperturbed by my reaction, my father sat back, chomping down on a thick slice of bacon. “Late breakfast, baby girl.”

  I propped my hands on my hips. “Late breakfast? Daddy, this is enough food for a whole table of people! What does your doctor have to say about this?!”

  “Nothing, because it’s not his business!” He scowled as he took another bite. “I thought I’d get a little peace since your mama was gone with her sisters.”

  “You thought wrong. You’re getting older, you’re not as active. You can’t be eating like this all the time. And sneaking to do it behind mama’s back, after she’s been trying to get you to—”

  “I will be so glad when you remember how to stay in a child’s place. What standing do you have to dictate what I eat, little girl?”

  “I’m not a little girl!” His eyes widened in the same surprise I felt that I’d raised my voice to him, b
ut I squared my shoulders and swallowed hard. “I’m a grown woman. Your daughter, concerned for your health. I’m trying to help, Daddy. That’s the only reason I’m even here right now, but you always play me like I don’t know anything.”

  He scoffed. “I’m not “playing” you,” he said, using air quotes. “But you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not exactly open to your twenty-something advice.”

  “So because I’m young, I don’t know anything?” I asked, scowling. “I know you think you’re so much older, and wiser, but you don’t always know best.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You say that as if I haven’t directed your path to the well-educated, well-experienced place you’re in now, young lady.”

  “And your time and attention has been appreciated, but I stand by what I said. Not everything you’ve pushed upon me has been for my benefit. You had a path you wanted me on, and you pushed me to stick to it, sometimes to my detriment.”

  “When have I ever,” he growled, sitting up and leaning across the desk, “Done anything that hasn’t proven its value in your life?”

  “New. York. I only went because you took away what I wanted most. And I was miserable. My boss ran me ragged in that kitchen, but I kept up, and I kept up with my class too, but I hated every single second. You were always going on and on about how lucky I was to work in the kitchen, how proud you were of me, how I was living your dream, and you never acknowledged the efforts I made toward what I wanted for me. I barely slept, barely ate, nothing but work and school to prove to you, finally, that I was worthy of a place here, and you never even recognized it. The most I got for my migraines, and dehydration and panic attacks was you offering that I could “help Harlan”, and you don’t even understand what an insult that is to me!”

  My father grunted. “Insult?! Insult?! I was throwing you a bone, doing something nice since you’d just come home! I was trying to mitigate the fallout from when you realized you’d made a mistake by leaving that job. You want to throw around that you’re grown, and can make your own decisions, but it took me eliminating your daydreams about that manager position to get you to stop kicking your feet about that job!”

  I recoiled like I’d been slapped. “You… you knew,” I breathed, shaking my head as tears sprang to my eyes. “I only told one person about that job in New York, and it wasn’t you. It wasn’t momma. So how…”

  I blinked back tears. If Harlan had…

  “The owner is a friend of a friend.”

  Whew.

  I was relived, and incensed at the same time. “So nepotism screwed me out of the job I wanted, and into a job I didn’t. Wonderful.”

  “No.” he shook his head. “You got that job on your own merits. He called me because you hadn’t given an answer, and I told him I would light a fire under you. You needed to get out, see something other than Stacks, and get that experience. I asked him to work you hard, because you’re a strong chef, Short Stack. I knew you could handle it. Well… I thought you could handle it.” He shrugged, then shook his head as if I’d come crawling back as a failure, with my tail between my legs. “If you can’t handle cooking, what makes you think you can run the place, baby girl?”

  “I handled it, just fine,” I snapped, with more venom that I intended to use toward my father, but much, much less than I felt. “What Chef Wilder failed to tell you was that although I had a hard time with the pace, I always delivered. He didn’t tell you that on three different occasions when the kitchen manager was out, I took that position, and I rocked it. What you don’t know, because you haven’t bothered to ask about my upcoming position at the “trendy neighborhood startup” is that Charlie and Nix hired me for a dual position, as kitchen manager and chef, in preparation to become kitchen manager full time, with the opportunity to give input on marketing and promotions. So while you may not believe in my ability to run a kitchen, or take on a management role, somebody does.”

  “I suggest you adjust your tone.” Daddy crossed his arms, and from the look on his face, his own anger was barely restrained too. “What you will not do, is act as if I haven’t done everything I can for you. As if your father doesn’t want the best for you.”

  I shook my head. “That’s just the thing, Daddy. I’m sure you do. But what you want, and what I need… they don’t line up anymore. I love you, and I’ll see you later.”

  I turned to walk out, and then changed my mind and approached his desk. He smirked, as if he expected me to go back on something I’d said, ask forgiveness, admit I was wrong, I didn’t know what. I smiled at him, and he smiled back … but that smile dropped when I picked up his plate and then shot back out the door, ignoring his protests as I closed it behind me.

  Seven

  “Whoa, where’s the fire?”

  I caught Sydnee by the arms, steadying her as she came rushing from the back with a huge plate in her hands. She’d almost walked right into a server headed out to deliver orders. Syd shook her head, trying to avoid my gaze, but I caught her by the chin, turning her face toward mine.

  Oh, damn.

  Her eyes were glossy with tears.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, pulling her to the side as another server passed. “Why are you—?”

  “Sydnee Nicole Scott, where are you?”

  Stacks’ voice carried around the corner, and Syd rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Harlan. We’ll talk later.” She gave me a wry smile before she pulled away, dumping the plate full of food in the trash before she rushed out of the door.

  “Goddammit,” Stacks muttered under his breath as the front door closed behind her. He stopped beside me, hands propped at his waist as he shook his head. “Harlan, come with me.”

  My eyes went wide.

  “Who, me?”

  Stacks scowled. “Uhh… you’re the only one around here named Harlan, right?”

  Only if you don’t know I tried to lick your daughter’s tonsils about ten minutes ago.

  I chuckled. “Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. But… you know, I think they probably need my help up here, it’s busy right now, and…”

  Brows furrowed, Stacks looked around the not-at-all busy diner – it was always pretty tame at this time of day – then looked back at me, confused. “Bring your ass to the office, boy.”

  Oh, I’m definitely about to die.

  Reluctantly, I followed Stacks into the back, wondering exactly what my official cause of death would be. Bludgeoning with a cast iron skillet? Would he put me in the smoker? Or maybe he was going to—

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that daughter of mine was trying to drive me to the crazy house.” Stacks dropped into the chair behind his desk, reclining backward with a huff.

  My shoulders sagged in relief for a moment, until I remembered the tears in Syd’s eyes.

  “What happened?” I asked, sticking my hands in my pockets to appear casual as I approached the desk. “I noticed that Sydnee seemed upset…”

  “Yeah, she’s upset, but I can’t see why! All I’ve ever wanted is to see her thrive, and not have to struggle like me and Natti. See, Sydnee has only ever known prosperity, she didn’t see what we went through to get this place. You’d think that everything I’ve done for that girl, she’d be grateful. Well I’m gonna sit back and let her do it on her own, see how she likes that. Hmph.”

  He pulled a handkerchief from the desktop, wiping his sweaty brow, and I swallowed hard, thinking carefully about how to respond. No, I didn’t want to be at odds with Stacks, but… “Sydnee is capable, and smart. With all due respect sir… I think that being judged on merit, and being left to do it on her own is exactly what she wants.”

  Stacks sat up again, his breathing labored as he eyed me with growing suspicion. “You think so, huh?”

  I wet my dry lips. “Yes. Yes sir, I do.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he grunted as we swiped his forehead again. “Hm. So… what makes you think you know what my daughter wants better than I do? What’s your basis for this opinion of you
rs?”

  “Talking to her. Actually listening to what she’s saying. Respecting her ability to articulate her own wants…”

  Stacks tried to chuckle, but it led into a wheezing cough as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Are you oka—?”

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, still coughing as he rose to his feet. “You listen to me, Harlan. Sydnee is my baby girl, and I’m not going to sit here while you tell me how to handle my daughter.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m tryna do, Stacks. I’m not interested in interfering in your relationship with your daughter, man. You know that. I’m just tryna offer some insight. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes,” he insisted, but the way he collapsed back into his chair contradicted that. He closed his eyes for a second, then drug them open, pinning me with a glare. “She said I was more concerned with making her live out my dream than what she wanted. Can you believe that?”

  I lifted my shoulders, then let them drop as I pulled my eyebrows together. “You probably don’t wanna hear this, but… yeah. Syd likes making schedules, reviewing profit reports, not being in the kitchen. She’s wanted to be the manager here since I met her, and she would be great at it. And instead of giving her a shot, you pushed her into something you wanted for her, not what she wanted to do.”

  Stacks glared at me for a moment longer, then shook his head. “I just wanted the best for her. I didn’t want her to settle here, and never go any further than that. Go work in New York, go work in London, go work in Tokyo, see the world. Not just this neighborhood.”

  “But it wouldn’t have been settling, not for her. This is home for her. The place she loves. This is where she wants to be, but it doesn’t mean it stops here. She wants to make Stacks bigger, better. The syrups? She wants to bottle those, put them in stores. She sees franchise potential for this place. Being here doesn’t mean she isn’t dreaming bigger.”

  He sat back, reclining heavily in his chair before he gave me a subtle nod. “One day, we’re gonna have a conversation about how much talking you and Sydnee have been doing.” He put his hand to his chest, circling it in a firm massage. “But not today. I’m calling it a day early. Damn heartburn got me feeling bad.” He pulled open his desk drawer, retrieving his wallet and keys before he got up, wobbling a little as he stood in place.