brother
Chapter 273: Penny
I don’t have all the right tools. Half the good knives are still in boxes, buried somewhere in the sea of cardboard that’s taken over the dining room. The colander I need is definitely not in the kitchen, which is how I end up draining pasta with a slotted spoon and a prayer. And I’m pretty sure the only reason this sauce is working is because the gods of butter and garlic have taken mercy on me.
But I’m cooking.
Actually cooking.
I don’t know when I started caring about making meals. Maybe it was after watching Asher cook for me so many times in those early years, with that careful, quiet way of his like making dinner was a battle plan. Everything measured. Precise. Intentional.
I, on the other hand, cook the way I dance.
Wild. Improvised. Messy.
–
There’s flour on the counter, on the floor, on my elbow somehow. There’s a trail of peas across the stovetop like tiny green casualties. My playlist is bouncing between Billie Holiday and 90s pop, and I’ve been singing along loudly, off–key, and with the kind of abandon that only happens when no one else is home.
I glance at the clock. Almost.
I open the fridge and take out a cold bottle of beer one I bought just for tonight – and set it by the stove. Not for me. I’m staying off alcohol for a bit, trying to be good to my knee, my body, everything. But for him. He likes this one. Hasn’t said it, not really, but I’ve watched the way he drinks it slower than the others. That’s how I know.
There’s a song playing – soft guitar, something melancholy and golden- and I hum to it as I stir the sauce and taste–test a piece of the pasta. I close my eyes and smile. Not bad.
I’m just setting the plates on the counter when I hear the key in the door.
A pause.
A breath.
Then
–
it opens.
“Asher?” I call, even though I already know.
Heavy boots on the hardwood, the quiet sigh of the door closing, and then him. Tall, warm, steady. Like coming home
wrapped itself in muscle and kindness and a worn grey T–shirt that hugs his biceps way too well.
He walks in, his eyes sweeping across the chaos of the kitchen
peas.
—
the opened drawers, the random spoons, the mess of
He smiles.
“Baby?” he says, voice already gentle, already amused.
1/4
Chapter 273: Penny
I drop the towel I was drying my hands with and rush over, wrapping my arms around his middle.
His chin rests on the top of my head as he pulls me close.
I breathe him in
cedarwood and the faintest trace of motor oil. He always smells like work, even when he’s off–duty. It’s something about him I’ll never stop loving. That feeling of realness. Of effort.
“I cooked,” I say into his chest.
“I can see that.”
“Don’t judge the mess. I was improvising.”
His lips find my temple. “Mess is good.”
I look up at him and grin.
“Okay, serious question. If we could eat clouds
–
what flavor would they be? And don’t say bubblegum.”
His eyes glint with amusement, like they always do when I say something ridiculous.
“Vanilla bean,” he replies immediately.
I raise an eyebrow.
“That’s a little boring.”
“It’s dependable. Gentle. Sweet. Just like clouds.”
I fake–swoon. “That’s the most romantic answer anyone has ever given about hypothetical food.”
He laughs, then lets go of me long enough to grab the plates. “Let’s eat by the lake.”
I nod, heart thudding with the kind of love that never gets old. I grab the utensils and the napkins because I still haven’t found the cloth ones I packed.
–
–
mismatched ones
We step out into the soft air, and the moment hits me again this place. Our place. The porch still smells like fresh paint. The flowers lining the path to the lake are just starting to open, reaching for the warm dusk. The sky is streaked with pink and lavender. Crickets are just beginning to sing.
We sit on the chairs by the lake, plates balanced on our knees. The water shimmers. Everything is quiet, soft.
We eat.
He groans softly after the first bite.
“Okay, this is insanely good.”
I beam. “You’re just saying that.”
“No. I’m not. I’d eat this every night.”
2/4
Chapter 275: Penny
“Well maybe once I find the rest of the kitchen?
He chuckles, and we fall into that kind of silence that only exists between people who know each other down to the
Then, he says, “No. Paint colors.”
I brighten. “Okay, I was thinking maylie a sage green for the laundry room. Light, peaceful. And maybe deep nary for the den.”
“Asher’s color,” he smirks.
“Exactly.”
“And the guest rooms?”
We both pause.
My eyes meet his, “We need to think about who will be staying over the most,”
“Rooster will probably crash here every time he and Anna fight,” Asher says with a smirk.
“So we give them the one with the big bed and blackout curtains.”
“And Mila and Boomer?”
“They get the one with the sunrise view. She likes waking up early for yoga, and he’ll pretend to hate it but secretly love
it.”
“And Max?”
We both laugh.
“He needs soundproofing.”
“Desperately.”
“And maybe a lava lamp.”
I nudge him. “We still haven’t met this girl he keeps mentioning.”
“Because she might not exist.”
“She probably does. He’s just keeping her for himself for now.”
“And Luc?” Asher asks.
I sigh happily. “Luc gets whatever room has the biggest mirror.”
“And the most closet space.”
“Obviously.”
3/4
Chapter 273: Penny
We finish our food slowly, talking in half–sentences and memories, I think about Rooster and Anna’s wedding two years ago. The way Anna’s dress sparkled. How Rooster cried during the vows and tried to hide it by pretending to have something in his eye.
I think of Boomer and Mila, who broke up before his deployment, but then found their way back to each other. He left for two years on missions, and he told her to live her life, to date, experience people. I didn’t expect Mila to wait. Et de did And I’ve never seen her smile at anyone the way she smiles at him. Now he’s officially back, and they’re so, so great together.
Luc is still Luc. Charming the world, boyfriend in every country, passport always full. And Maxwell, Max might be in love or might just be fascinated by someone who laughs at his jokes.
It hits me
–
this little family we’ve built.
And this house… it’s for them, too.
I rest my head on Asher’s shoulder, and he wraps an arm around me.
The sun is almost gone now, the lake turning navy, the stars just beginning to whisper their way into the sky,
This life is quiet. This moment is small.
But God it’s everything.
–
Chapter Comments
Visitor
omg, how beautiful! does this kind of life really exist or is it a dream life?
View 1 Comment >
4
