I can hear
the music of the universe in the way
you say my name
CORA ROLLED INTO Whiskey Sharp the next evening, pleased at the sight of her two best friends standing near the bar.
Vic was in deep conversation with Alexsei and Gregori on the other side of the room. The family resemblance was striking at some moments and that was one of them.
“Christ. What the fuck kind of genetic lottery produced humans who look that good?” she asked after she gave Maybe and Rachel a hug.
“Right?” Maybe said. “Imagine the baby cooking in Rachel’s uterus right now. Adorable to the power of a million.”
“Where’s Beau?” Rachel asked.
“He’ll be by in a few. He had a sauce breakthrough apparently,” Cora said.
“Ha! Really? My dude has yeast emergencies and yours has sauce emergencies,” Rachel said. “Life’s weird.”
“It is. But now that mine has really great sex and food in it I’ve got to say yay for weird life.” Cora ordered a whiskey sour. “How’s things in gestation today?”
“I want to nap a lot. Vic makes me go to bed at like eight with him. Which works because he’s up at four anyway to get to the bakery and I end up sleeping another few hours after he leaves. I’m nauseated followed by periods of intense hunger. I mean, it’s not that far into the process but damn, I hope I want to be awake in the hours where I don’t want to vomit and soon.”
Cora frowned and gave Rachel a gentle hug. “Sorry, punkin.”
Wren bounced in and after a snuggle and a kiss from her husband, she headed over to Cora.
“It’s the coolest thing ever that you and Beau are together. I mean, it’s nice not to have to vet an outsider. Plus he cooks. And if the modeling pictures from his younger days are accurate, he’s got a very prodigious rod of justice.”
Cora and Rachel both burst into laughter. “Rod of justice?” Cora asked once she could speak.
“It’s weird to me to call someone else’s man’s equipment a cock. Gregori has a cock. Dick is fine. But sometimes you just need to bust out the purple prose and make it extra creative. The more I can fluster Gregori and make him blush or laugh, the better. Thunder stick, meat staff, mighty spear of pleasure.”
By that point Cora was laughing so hard she got the damned hiccups just imagining the look on Gregori’s face at any of those descriptors. “I love you guys so hard,” she sputtered.
“It’s going to be a while before I can look at Gregori straight on without snickering,” Maybe told Wren.
Vic looked over at them, narrowing his eyes. The others followed suit.
That’s when Beau came in, lighting up Cora’s heart. She watched as he scanned the room and felt that click of connection when their gazes locked.
“Be back in a sec,” she told her friends over her shoulder before meeting him halfway.
She wasn’t expecting the hug or the lingering kiss he laid on her, but she wouldn’t be complaining anytime soon.
He kept her close and in his arms for long moments. “Good evening.”
God, he made her smile.
“Hey there. I just ordered a whiskey sour. They’re on special for another hour or so. You want one?” she asked.
He spun her neatly but kept her hand in his as they walked toward the bar. “Yes, and then we’ll eat. I’m getting pretty hungry.”
“I can make us dinner from time to time too, you know,” she said.
“I’m sure you can. Tonight, though, Ian has asked us to Luna to sit at the chef’s table. Along with Gregori and Wren.”
“A double date with your besties? Awww.”
“More than that. The table seats twelve so Maybe, Rachel, Vic and Alexsei are invited too if they can break away.”
“Pardon me for overhearing but yes to dinner,” Maybe said as she leaned around Cora to speak to Beau.
“Pardon your nosy ass, you mean?” Cora teased.
In the years she’d been coming to Whiskey Sharp or gone out with her friends, it had been as a single person around people slowly coupling up. And now here she was, part of a couple. Falling for this dude who’d come into her life when she wasn’t planning on anything like love. It was not overrated.
* * *
ONCE THEY’D GOTTEN everyone rounded up to go to dinner they headed out. It was cold but not rainy so, buttoned into coats, they all began to walk over to Luna.
“Are you okay to walk that far?” Vic asked Rachel in an undertone.
“It’s four blocks. On First so I don’t even have to walk up a hill.” Rachel tugged on his beard, and then kissed him. “But thank you.”
Cora kept her smile to herself, leaning against Beau awhile as they walked.
Maybe snorted as she bumped her hip to Vic’s. “It’s very sweet, but she’s got like seven plus months to go. So ease up there or she’s going to push you out of the air lock before the middle of her second trimester.”
“Go bother your husband,” Vic told his sister-in-law with a grin.
Laughing, Maybe skipped up to Alexsei, who took her hand and planted a kiss on top of her head as they walked.
“Are you cooking tonight?” Cora asked Beau.
“Nope. I’m there to enjoy the food with you at my side and our friends all around. Ian’s team is fucking amazing. Better chefs than me by far.”
She scoffed and he hugged her to his side.
“There are no chefs better than you, duh.” There might be better cooks or whatever, but none of them were him.
“I’m a decent, inventive cook who had the luck to land a television gig. I have good business sense and excellent management so all my money goes where it should be and everyone does well.”
“Didn’t you slay sauce today? Hello. Exhibit A. I said it. It’s true. There. Glad we got that settled.”
“I really have nothing in response to that so I’ll accept the compliment and move on,” Beau said.
He took them in through the restaurant and through the kitchen, where the large chef’s table was set and waiting for them all.
Ian came out and, after greeting Gregori and Beau, he turned to the rest of the group. “Welcome, everyone. I hope y’all are ready to eat.”
Beau and Gregori took turns introducing Ian, who’d been the one who introduced Beau to Gregori, who’d been a scrappy up-and-coming artist at the time. Not in the United States for very long, he’d become part of a group that included several other young men also out of place or far from everything they’d known. And from what Cora could see from the way they interacted, it had given them all a foundation of safety and brotherhood.
They’d learned about how to be better people, better men, through one another’s trials and tribulations, and Beau was totally sure he would not be there without their support and example.
He wanted to show it off to Cora. Wanted her to see who’d been such an integral part of making him the man he was that day.
Cora leaned against her fist, a smile on her face as she listened to Len describe their first course.
Beau realized he hadn’t ever in his life been so lighthearted. She made him laugh. Made him think. Respected him but didn’t take him too seriously. Good to his friends and appreciative of their work and what made them tick.
He took the hand she wasn’t propped against, threading his fingers through hers before leaning over to kiss her knuckles. Her smile deepened and she shifted slightly to be closer to him.
Ian came and went as he occasionally got up to take a cruise through the restaurant to make sure everything was going smoothly, but when the main course arrived, he settled at the table across from them, Beau knew, to get to know Cora better.
“How did you come to end up running an art gallery?” Ian asked.
“I grew up in the gallery. Surrounded by art and artists. Then as I started to travel and work all over the world with my mother, I took classes, got my degree in art history. Because my mom had connections I was able to intern in some of the best museums with all manner of curators and directors. Taught me a lot about how I would and definitely would not run a gallery. Reinforced how much I love the gallery and the chance to run it.”
“I know Gregori and I can’t wait to see what you do with the gallery now that you’re running it full-time,” Wren said.
She talked about her plans for an upcoming series of shows and ended up recommending a few artists to Ian.
“Speaking of artistry, I’ve eaten at Northstar a few times and really loved it. Creative, solid menu. Well worth the drive up to Bellingham,” Cora said of Ian’s restaurant and bed-and-breakfast on several acres of a working farm about two hours north of Seattle.
It was Ian’s pet project and a compliment of it probably raised her up quite a bit in Ian’s estimation.
His eyes lit. “In the spring we’re going to do a wine festival weekend. You and Beau should come up and stay.”
“Awesome. I’d love to. You’re Rian Brewster’s son, right?”
Ian nodded, a little wariness back in his gaze.
“My father designed the garden at his house. I was just at Dad’s office last week and he had photos of it. Gorgeous. Did you grow up there?”
The wariness washed away. Ian was second generation famous. His father had been a model and then an actor. He’d met Ian’s mother when she’d been his orthopedic surgeon. Two utterly gorgeous and super successful and charismatic people united to form a marriage Beau held as a goal to achieve one day.
“Yes, I grew up there. Went to school in Bellingham. I got scouted at the mall, which is such a cliché,” Ian said.
“The grounds look so lush and quiet. My dad said it was blissful and smelled perfect. That’s a big compliment, in case that wasn’t clear.”
They talked a while longer as Cora revealed her brother was going to start working more with their father’s business since she’d be taking on more over at the gallery. A happy set of choices and opportunities for both siblings.
After a really amazing dinner, they walked out to the front, where Ian had a car waiting to take them all back the few blocks to Whiskey Sharp.
“You want to sleep over at my place tonight?” Beau asked her. He had gotten used to her at his side as he slept, to the point that when they weren’t together it felt off.
“I have an early meeting at the gallery, and then I’m going over to my parents’ for a family lunch. I need to be close to work so it’s better if I sleep in my own bed tonight.”
He took her hand. “Say good-night to your friends and I’ll drive you home.”
She looked up at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Will you stay at my house instead? I’ll make coffee on my way out so you can have some when you wake up.”
He nodded but it wasn’t until they were nearly all the way back to her house that he said, “I’m glad you asked me to stay over.”
She made a happy sound. “I should confess it’s easier to sleep with you there. And it gives me a reason to have really good cheese and butter because you make that little sneer if there are ingredients you find substandard.”
He nearly guffawed. “I do not! I ate blocks of processed cheese on bread that was more corn syrup than baked good when I was growing up.”
“There are things you have to do because your options are limited and things you don’t have to do when you have the choice. Funny how when I look in your fridge at the condo I never find processed cheese or crappy bread.”
“Busted. Life’s too short to eat crappy cheese or awful bread when you have an alternative.”
“I might embroider that on a pillow for your bed,” Cora said. “Oh, and I had the opportunity to grab an extra parking place when someone else gave it up. So you can park there instead of having to hunt for street parking.”
That gave him pause. Filled him up with a sense of belonging. Of home and safety.