In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel Terri Osburn (good books to read in english txt) 📖

his approval. When he pursed his lips but remained quiet, she forced herself to look away in an attempt to pretend that his response didn’t matter.

“Looks good,” he finally said, allowing her to once again take a full breath. “You’re smart to go heavy on the seafood, for obvious reasons, and though at first glance the dishes seem simple, they’re actually quite complex. You said you’d offer a more refined dining experience, and based on this, you’ve found a way to do that without being pretentious.”

Unsure if the last bit was a compliment or not, she said, “You thought my food would be pretentious?”

“I think fine dining is pretentious,” he corrected. Returning her phone, he added, “This menu is not.”

Encouraged, she closed the app and set the cell back on the table. “What kind of food did your family restaurant serve?”

When they’d first met, he said he’d never attended culinary school, but instead he’d learned on the job. Finesse in the kitchen came with practice, but Nick’s technique was as good as any chef she’d ever worked with. Most of whom possessed hard-earned degrees.

“Dad served traditional Greek food.”

That explained his understanding of flavor. “I should have guessed.”

“Yeah, the name is a dead giveaway. I could make spanakopita before I could spell it.”

She longed for that kind of heritage. “Must be nice to know where you come from.”

“You don’t know your family’s history?”

Lauren wished. “I looked up the name Riley once. Most likely Mom’s ancestors worked to clear rye fields or something in the UK. Maybe they owned the fields, but I doubt it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know my biological father’s name.”

Brow furrowed, Nick leaned forward. “Your mom never told you?” When Lauren shook her head, he said, “Why don’t you ask her?”

Clearing the lump in her throat, she replied, “Mom died of cancer six months ago.”

He sat up straight again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she lied. “When I was young, she said my father wanted nothing to do with me, and by the time I was a teenager, I decided I wanted nothing to do with him.”

“You still deserve to know who he is. What about your grandparents? Are they still alive? Could they tell you?”

Lauren had let go of having any family connections a long time ago. “They weren’t in our lives either. Mom’s parents didn’t approve of her choice to have kids with having a husband. Mom said they were really strict and when she refused to get married just because she was pregnant, they cut her off.”

A warm hand caressed her joined ones. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

She jerked her chin up, meeting his gaze. “What?”

“You think that if you hadn’t come along, your mother’s life would have been different.”

No one had ever guessed how she really felt. In the rare moments when she’d shared these details, the other person had always focused on her grandparents’ selfishness or her mother’s mistakes. But Nick saw her truth.

“How do you know that?” Lauren whispered.

“The way you talk about her with regret instead of judgment. I get the impression that you had a difficult childhood. Most people would blame the adult in charge for that, but you don’t seem to.”

Difficult was an understatement but she didn’t correct him. “She did the best she could with the hand she was dealt.”

“A hand she dealt herself, yet you haven’t blamed her for giving her parents a reason to toss her out, or for picking the wrong man to be your father.”

Lauren swiped at a tear she didn’t realize had fallen. “Mom picked a lot of wrong men, but she didn’t have a whole lot of options. With two kids to feed and no diploma, good jobs were hard to come by, and two incomes were better than one.” Eyes on her hands, she added, “She paid for her mistakes. Blaming her won’t change anything now.”

“You know none of that is your fault,” Nick assured her. “It sounds like she was a victim of circumstance and some really shitty parents. Neither of which you had anything to do with.”

Easy for him to say. If Lauren didn’t exist, maybe Mom would have finished college and had a normal life like everyone else. Instead she lived hand to mouth, endured abusive men to keep a roof over their heads, and died at a young age because she didn’t have access to the health care she so badly needed. Care that might have found the cancer early enough for her to beat it.

“I feel like I should be sitting on the couch for this.” She used her napkin to dry her cheeks, unable to recall the last time she’d cried in front of anyone. “Do you charge by the hour or is the first session free?”

Collecting the empty plates, he rose to his feet. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll tell you how I resent my mother for remarrying after Dad died.”

She laughed at the confession. “Do you really?”

“Yep,” he said, placing the dishes in the sink. “I was nineteen and I should have been happy for her, but all I could think was that she was cheating on Dad.”

Lauren carried their empty glasses into the kitchen. “Is he a good guy?”

“Gus? He’s all right. Sells insurance in Florida. Dull as a butter knife, but he takes good care of her and she seems to like it down there.”

Mom probably would have liked Florida. She always hated the New England winters.

“Hey,” Nick said, dragging Lauren out of her thoughts. “I have to work tonight, but I’m off tomorrow.”

Aware that he hadn’t actually asked to see her, Lauren said, “We open in a week so I’ll be working tomorrow.”

Nick pulled her into his arms. “All day?”

“Why?” she said, slipping her hands around his rib cage. “Is there something I need to make time for?”

After placing a kiss on her forehead, he said, “I’d like to see you again.”

He’d certainly waited long enough to make a move. “That could be arranged. Are you offering