“Love isn’t something you find. Love is something that finds you.”
— Loretta YoungPrologueRyderOne Month EarlierI look around the kitchen. Everything is going as smoothly as it can be for a Friday evening. The sous chefs are working, waitresses and waiters are hustling their tails off. Now to the part I least enjoy, mingling with patrons. It’s bullshit and the only part of this job I hate.
Who wants to work in a kitchen, get hot and sweaty, then meander out and see if everyone likes their food? My fucking luck, there’ll be a damn food critic here tonight. That would be the icing on the cake.
“Ryder, are you ready?” the owner of Melody’s Steak House, who is, in fact, Melody, asks. She’s lucky she’s my damn sister, or I would tell her to buzz the fuck off.
“I don’t know why you insist on this. You’re the front runner.”
“Oh hush. You do this once a week and have for the past three years. Tonight won’t kill you.” She slaps my arm. I may be bigger and taller than she is by a head—something I still give her shit for—but Melody is still older. Though she has her head on straight even when the sperm donor took off the day her daughter, Sienna, graced the world. That little girl has me wrapped around her finger. She knows all she has to say is, “Uncle Ry-Ry,” and I’m fucking toast.
“Whatever. Let’s get this shit over and done with.” I change out of my dirty white top, exchange it for a black one, and then follow Melody out to the dining room.
“Are you sure you don’t mind watching Sienna tomorrow? I know it’s your day off. I hate to even ask.” Melody knows without a doubt I’ll always keep Sienna. Not like there’s much else to do on my day off besides hit the gym, grocery shop, and be a couch potato. At least with Sienna, going to the store will be fun, something that usually ends with her picking out food that I know her mother hates, yet I allow it anyways.
“That’s a dumb question if I ever heard one.” Melody had Sienna six years ago, when she was twenty-nine years old, just starting out with her restaurant. I was twenty-seven. Now she’s thirty-five, a successful business owner, an amazing single mom, and I help out where I can.
“I’m just making sure. I don’t want to intrude on your life any more than I already do.”
“Hey, don’t think like that. I’m not going anywhere. I told you the day that deadbeat walked out on you that I’d do whatever I can to help you both.” Melody nods her head, which I take that as my cue to shut up and follow her lead.
“Smile a little, would you?” She smarts off after we make it around a few tables.
“Like this?” I give her my goofiest and cheesiest grin, trying to get her to relax.
“God, you’re so annoying. How are we even related?”
“Shit,” I mumble before darting to the table in the corner. There’s a woman sitting by herself. She’s beating on the table, her other hand at her throat. She’s fucking choking. On what I have no idea. I just know she needs help.
“Oh my god,” I hear my sister say behind me, but I’ve already reached the table, lifting the gorgeous fucking woman out of her chair and performing the Heimlich maneuver. It takes a few tries before she finally stops choking. I may have only gotten a glimpse of her as I was hustling my ass towards her, like her honey-golden blond hair falling down well past her shoulders, sleek and straight, which wasn’t even the half of it, but what I saw had me wanting to see more. I’m an asshole to even be thinking these thoughts while she couldn’t breathe.
“Are you okay?” my sister asks the woman who’s still in my arms, my body wrapped around hers. I can feel every curve, especially her ass that’s rubbing against my lengthening cock without her even knowing the effect she has on me.
“I think so. I’m so sorry to have caused a scene.” Her voice has a roughness to it. One that I’m sure is a result of not getting enough air and having food lodged in her throat.
“Melody, I’d take her to the hospital or a walk-in clinic, just to be sure.” I reluctantly let her go. My hand moves to her hip, holding her to make sure she’s okay. That’s when I’m ruined. The noises around me stop. The clattering of utensils hitting plates isn’t there. There’s no whispering. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to ever let this woman go.
“I’m okay. I promise.” She still holds her throat. I nod my head, silently telling Melody there’s no fucking way she is.