Second Chance at the Orchard Inn, page 15
Jenna had asked her to talk to Jude about the restaurant and now, technically, she had. He’d plainly stated now wasn’t the time, and the Aurora he’d known wasn’t the type of person to poke and pry and pursue a matter.
But Aurora wasn’t that meek girl anymore.
She realized she wanted to talk about the restaurant. Not because Jenna had asked, but because she knew Jude liked the idea. Those big blue eyes were dancing with unexplored concepts and options he wanted to discuss. He wanted to go down this rabbit hole, at least in theory, and so did Aurora. Why shouldn’t they discuss a restaurant and share ideas again? She shouldn’t let John Jones get in the way of that.
They weren’t kids anymore.
“What are the obstacles if all you’re doing is exploring the idea?” she dared ask.
“I…Nothing, I suppose. I know a restaurant will be a lot of work, time, and energy. I know Dad will hate the notion because it’s new and different, and therefore bad. Not to mention it’d split our dedication—in his eyes—from the traditional roles on the farm. Oh, and we know next to nothing about the restaurant industry.”
“But you still think it’s a good idea?”
He studied her so intently, she thought she might melt into the booth. “What do you think of the idea?”
Aurora could hedge her bets and wait for his response before she really spoke her mind, but that’s not who she was anymore. She’d promised herself, years ago, she’d live more boldly than when she was young. And, if she wanted something, she’d try her hardest to go after it.
“I think it’s a great idea, Jude. With the potential of being very successful with the right people at the helm.”
A smile formed on his lips, subtle at first, before it beamed.
“I’m not about to get into the middle of things with your dad though,” Aurora quickly added.
“No, I…” He nodded. “Of course not. I get that.”
“But we could talk about it, if you want. Talk ideas, plans. You can ask me anything.”
The waitress dropped off their bill as they sat there studying each other.
It’d been years—a decade—since they’d dreamed of the future together. This was shaky ground at best, dangerous at worst. Was this too much like when they were a couple? Too much like when they promised to live out all their dreams together?
Jude reached across the table, past the bill, and squeezed her hand. “I would love to talk more. Let’s go for a drive.”
Aurora knew this would likely bring them closer, maybe too close, but she found she didn’t care.
Chapter 15
He settled the check and they managed to leave the diner with only a wave in Erica’s general direction.
Once outside, Aurora stopped dead in her tracks on the sidewalk. “Look at that.”
Jude followed her gaze upward, where a huge full moon was rising into the sky. “I know where we can get a better view.”
“You do?”
“I still have a few surprises up my sleeve.”
An indecipherable expression crossed her face, but she climbed into his truck.
He drove the two blocks to Ridge Lane and turned left. He followed the road all the way to the top of the hill, where the old hardware store sat, past its parking lot, to a wide-open patch of land with no lights from town.
“Wow,” she said. “I forgot about this place.”
He’d brought Aurora here before, one moonlit night when they’d first started dating. His intention wasn’t to reminisce about that night, though he was aware of how it might seem, but to remind her of all her hometown had to offer.
Sure, California was nice. He imagined a city like Los Angeles had a lot going for it, things a place like Fredericksburg never could, but their hometown was special too. There was plenty here that nowhere else could compare.
“Can’t see a night sky like this in L.A.,” she mused.
Exactly.
He didn’t want to inspect his feelings too closely or question why he wanted her to remember her home. Maybe it was merely their reconciliation that made him want to give her other positive thoughts of home. Something to take with her when she was gone. Or maybe he wanted her to be a bit homesick.
Selfish though it may be, he wanted her—or at least some part of her—to want to stay. He’d missed how many months of her visit? Now they were getting along, enjoying each other’s company. There was nothing wrong with wanting more of her, more time with her.
“This is a better view,” she said as they got out of the truck.
“I know.” He let the gate down and they hopped up to sit.
“Wonder if the full moon is why Erica Burr keeps popping up in my life this week.”
“Strange things can happen during a full moon.” He smiled.
Aurora tilted her head back, staring up. “You know, you can’t see any stars in Los Angeles for all the city lights. You have to go up into the hills, past the fancy neighborhoods, or out into the desert. Then again, I’m always working and all I want to do after work is go home and sleep.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “But that’s restaurant work. The reality of it. Long, hard hours. Worrying yourself into insomnia. And that’s when you’re only working at an establishment, not owning and running one.”
They looked at each other.
She started to speak, but he stopped her. “I know it’s not easy work. Nothing worth having ever is. My dad is going to take a lot of convincing, and he may not ever be convinced, but my sisters and I want more for our family. We’re ready to grow and this excites them more than any other idea, so I want to explore it. See if it’s got real merit. And I really want to hear what you have to say. I trust you.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Aurora smiled sweetly. “Okay. First, you need to think about the basic premise of the restaurant. What’s your mission? Your theme. What do you want? Farm-to-table, bistro, southern fusion, etcetera. Do you want to focus more on lunch or dinner, or both? High end or accessible? Plated, family style, tapas?”
Jude nodded slowly. “We definitely want the place to be accessible. Quality food, but not too expensive or fancy. Nothing stuffy or pretentious.”
“Agreed. That wouldn’t fit with the farm and your family.”
“Exactly. We want it to fit in with the farm. Casual, rustic, local ingredients, high quality.”
“I think that’s wise. You’re thinking farm-to-table?”
“Yes.”
“The next thing to consider is capacity. Small and intimate would be best, given the space, at least at the start. You don’t want to go big and go bust.”
“Agreed.”
“That means fewer staff, less supplies, but also a lower return overall. Again, at least at the start, but I think that’s best since this is a brand-new venture. In the future, who knows? But start small.”
“Hang on.” Jude hopped off the tailgate and hurried to the cab of his truck. He leaned in and dug around in the glove box until he found a small notebook and pen. “I want to write this down,” he called to Aurora.
If he didn’t start writing stuff down, he’d forget something important—or miss it because he was too busy noticing her eyes in the moonlight like a big ol’ sap.
“How are you going to see to write?” She laughed as he hopped back up with her.
“You’re going to hold my phone and use the flashlight app.” He handed over his phone.
“This is the epitome of professional.” She turned on the flashlight.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’d rather go sit in the office at the farm for a few hours?”
“No, I like being out here. You know I’d rather be outside.”
“Then quit griping and hold that light closer,” he teased.
She held the light so close it bumped his hand as he wrote.
“Smart aleck.”
Aurora laughed as he jotted down some of the key words she’d used.
“What about time frame?” he asked. “From when we first really get started, beyond the ideas phase, to the opening of the restaurant. What are we looking at?”
“Depending on the number of people and how many hours spent working on it? Six to eight months. If resources are limited, a year? Since you have the proper space for it, that helps, but you’ll need to work on making it a commercial kitchen.”
He wrote some more. “Key employees to hire first?”
“Manager and chef. And you’ll want someone with plenty of experience. They can help guide the process. A strong chef can lead the menu creation and head up the food side independently, since the Jones family isn’t a bunch of restaurateurs.”
“What about you?” he blurted, only half thinking.
Aurora went still, blinking at him in the dim light cast by his phone.
“Want a job?” He kept his voice light, even though he wasn’t kidding. Not really.
He realized she’d come back to Texas only because her sisters needed her. Now her family was fine. She had no reason to give up whatever amazing opportunities awaited her in a big city. But his gut reminded him that in life, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.
Aurora opened her mouth and closed it. Opened and closed. “I…” She pinched her lips together.
An awkward silence grew, and he recoiled from the tension. “I’m kidding.” He shook his head. “I know you don’t want that kind of uphill battle in little ol’ Fredericksburg. Not with L.A. waiting on you. But do you know of anyone?”
A crease formed between her brows. “Huh? Oh, um…around here? No. But I could, I can make some calls. Someone always knows someone.”
“Thanks.” He nodded and wrote down the words Call around, just to have something to do. “What about insurance?” He spat out the first thing that came to mind, even though he remained hung up on Aurora and having her as his chef. “Level of insurance and type. I know there’s probably an entirely different type of coverage we’d need. Deductible.”
Aurora stared off into the middle distance, nodding. “Yeah. That’s good you’re already thinking about insurance and mitigating risk. Then again, of course you are.”
“So?” Jude followed her gaze, but there was nothing out there in the darkness. “Isn’t that smart?”
“What?” Her gaze shot back to him and she shook her head. “It’s very smart.” She put on a smile. “But you’re the only person I know who dreams big about whole new business ventures and branching out, but also about insurance coverage and little things like how many parking spots you’ll need.”
“Oh yeah, parking!” He made a note about space for parking as Aurora smirked at him for reinforcing her point.
They talked about the business for over an hour, even sketching out a dining room setup with table layouts. They’d made more progress tonight than he’d expected. Aurora had insights on everything from raw food costs to the best colors and fonts to use on a menu.
Jude smiled, despite the earlier moment of tension. He’d figured Aurora knew her stuff, she’d always been one of the sharpest people he knew, but the extent of her knowledge, the attention she paid to detail, impressed him. He shouldn’t be surprised. She’d followed her dream and made herself an expert in the field.
Warmth filled his heart. “This has been a huge help.” His gaze met hers. “Thank you.”
Aurora held his gaze for a moment, but then looked away. “No problem.”
He closed the notebook with the pen inside as a bookmark, refusing to let her brush off a compliment. “I knew you’d know your stuff, but this is…beyond. And your ideas. I mean, you’ve always been creative, and able to come up with stuff, but—”
“Thanks,” she said casually, unfolding her legs and shifting on the tailgate.
“No, I’m serious. You could have your own restaurant. You should have your own.”
Aurora sniffed a laugh.
“You should.” He leaned forward until she met his gaze again. “I’m not talking about this restaurant.” He thumped the notebook in his hands. “But a restaurant. You’ve got the experience and knowledge. There are plenty of places that open every day, and their food is nowhere near as popular as yours, they have no idea what they’re doing. You could do whatever you wanted.”
She studied him, her eyes dark and unfathomable. “Owning and running your own place is a process. It takes a long time.”
“In a big city, I’m sure.” But the truth was, if she were a big fish in a smaller pond, she’d have her own restaurant by now. Maybe even two.
He set the notebook aside, unwilling to let the topic go yet. If she was dead set on leaving for California in a week or whatever, fine. Well, it wasn’t fine, but he couldn’t stop her. What he could do was make sure she knew her value. He knew her value. He’d made the mistake of not telling her before, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.
“Aurora, everything you’ve accomplished is amazing. And I know you don’t need me to tell you you’re great, but I’m going to do it anyway. You should be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you. Everyone in my family is. I hated that you left Texas. I hated the way things ended, but I am glad you followed your dream and, I mean, look at you now. You deserve whatever you want in life.”
Even in the dim lighting from his tilted phone light, he could see the mist in her eyes.
“Jude,” she said his name, her voice trembling. “That’s…dang it, why do you have to be so nice?”
They both chuckled as she wiped at her face.
“It’s true,” he insisted.
“That has to be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She reached over and touched his hand. “Thank you. It means…that means a lot to me.”
He turned his hand over to hold hers, tangling her fingers with his, and studied the way her long fingers still fit perfectly with his. “Your boss doesn’t tell you how good you are?”
She sniffed again. “No. Head chefs and restaurant group owners aren’t known to give a lot of praise. I’ve never been told I could do whatever I want or that I should be proud of my work. They’re from the tough-love school of thought.”
“Hmm.” He squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t know, but sounds like they might be idiots.”
She smiled sweetly and brushed her thumb over the back of his hand, sending sparks of electricity up his arm.
He was not an idiot, and he was too old to play dumb. The other evening, at the lake, they weren’t just caught up in the moment. They’d had a moment. And while they’d professed it was fine and no biggie, and he’d told himself not to overthink it or get too into his feelings about her, his heart and his soul argued otherwise.
Their kissing, their reuniting, their chemistry and understanding, it was a big deal. He couldn’t deny he had feelings for her. This was Aurora. His wonderful, amazing, ever-changing, surprising Aurora. And even if she left again tomorrow, ripped his heart out and backed over it with his truck, he didn’t much care.
He wanted to kiss her again.
He was going to kiss her.
Jude leaned forward and touched her cheek with his free hand, because he was not letting go of her. His intent clear, he waited for her to pull away.
She didn’t.
He rubbed his thumb across the top of her cheek, wishing he could freeze this moment and keep it with him forever.
Then Aurora closed the space between them and kissed him.
Chapter 16
Aurora sat in the inn’s living room with her sisters, but she was a million miles away.
She’d kissed Jude. Again.
She had kissed Jude.
Kissed. Jude. Kissed. Jude.
Sure, he was the one who’d started it. He’d leaned in and had that look in his eyes, but something in her snapped and she’d been the one to close the deal.
Perhaps it was her patience. Or maybe it was all those years of letting him lead their relationship, while she’d followed him around like a lovestruck little girl.
She wasn’t a girl anymore, and sometimes she liked to take the lead.
“This weekend we have a group of ten ladies staying with us. A girls’ weekend,” Beth said, somewhere in the distance.
“Fun,” Cece replied.
And what a kiss it’d been.
Aurora brushed her fingers across her bottom lip. Jude had always been a good kisser, and his skill had aged well.
Firm, yet soft. His fingers dancing along her jaw, then tangling in her hair.
Technically, it’d been more than one kiss.
A kiss that went on and on, turning into two or three kisses. Maybe five? Making her melt into him. Warm and solid, he fit around her perfectly. She’d wanted to stay there all night, until they’d pulled away, reality crashing down.
Zero regrets though.
They’d grinned like little kids as he dropped her off at her car, promising to call her tomorrow. They were going to see each other again.
And let her not forget about his blurted offer to be head chef of the farm’s restaurant.
Aurora gripped the edge of the couch cushion with her free hand, digging her fingers in. He’d played it off like he was joking, but Jude didn’t make that face when he joked. He was serious.
But she’d froze.
Her reason for freezing up though—very unsettling. Because her answer wasn’t immediately no.
While most of her brain said that was not her plan, she had to get back to L.A. and get back in the game, some of her brain, and most of her heart, perked up at the offer. She’d rolled it over in her mind, tried it on for size.
Farm-to-table in Texas was not a bistro in Malibu though. And working with Jude…working on something that had anything to do with his father?
She couldn’t. That’d be a recipe for disaster. She shouldn’t even consider the offer.
So why was she?
And why did she kiss Jude? Again?
Kiss Jude. Kiss Jude.
“They’re going to do some hiking and horseback riding, visit some vineyards, do a little shopping.” Her sister kept talking.
