“I hope you like pancakes,” he says. “I made them myself.”
His face is covered with a sly grin as he pushes one of the containers in front of me and removes the lid. Inside is a stack of heart shaped pancakes, still steaming.
“What is all this?” I ask, glancing up at him. Though I’m impressed that he’s managed to keep everything warm on his trip over here, I have no idea how to take this gesture.
“It’s your own fault for mentioning that yesterday was Friday the thirteenth,” he says. “I realized that made today the fourteenth—February fourteenth.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day?”
“It is.”
I freeze. I don’t know how I am supposed to respond to this. The pancakes are simple enough—not an overblown gesture—but also so thoughtful. I hadn’t even thought about today being a holiday, and clearly, I have nothing to give him in return.
“Th-thank you, Nate.” I stutter embarrassingly. “That’s really sweet.”
“It’s the syrup that’s sweet,” he says as he pulls a small glass bottle labeled Rosa’s Pure Maple Syrup from the bag and opens the top. “Just smell it.”
I hold the bottle, noting the “Made right here in Ohio” label, and take a sniff.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Wow! It smells fantastic!”
“Tastes even better,” Nate says, taking the bottle back. “I’ve never actually made pancakes before, so even if they’re awful, the syrup will make up for it.”
“You really made these yourself?”
“Mmhmm.” Nate glances at me out of the corner of his eye, lopsided grin in place. “I admit I had help, but I mixed up the batter and poured the heart shapes. I won’t mention the first twenty pancakes that ended up looking more like anatomical hearts, complete with random arteries and veins sticking out.”
“Not so appetizing,” I say with a laugh.
“Not at all.” Nate grins. “I’m also not going to mention the ones I burned.”
“I hope they aren’t all going to waste!” I laugh.
“I’m pretty sure Antony is eating them right now.” Nate chuckles and then looks at me earnestly. “I hope you like them.”
“I’m sure I will.”
We sit at my little kitchen table, and Nate carefully pours the maple syrup over my pancakes. I take a bite, chewing slowly as the sweet syrup coats my mouth.
“These are incredible!” I take another bite.
“I’m glad you like them.” Nate sits up a little taller, a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. “I mean, I did taste-test them, of course, but the look on your face says it all.”
“Mmm!” I close my eyes as I shove another mouthful between my lips.
Nate’s eyes darken slightly as he watches me, and I feel my cheeks redden. His tongue darts out across his lips for a moment before he turns to his own stack of pancakes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize what day it was.” I stare down at my nearly empty plate, not quite able to meet his eyes. “This was so thoughtful, and I haven’t done anything for you.”
“Gifts should never be given with the thought of reciprocation.” Nate reaches over, his fingers lightly stroking my knuckles. He removes them quickly, but I can still feel his touch.
“I suppose that’s true.” I glance at him shyly. “Still, I’ll have to figure out a way to make it up to you.”
“You already made me dinner,” Nate reminded me.
“PB and J hardly counts.” I scoff. “That didn’t even require any cooking.”
“You saved dinner.” Nate shrugs as he finishes the last of his pancakes. “I was going to lose my mind if I stayed at the restaurant any longer.” Nate cringes and looks away, his eyes darkening.
“You were rather upset.”
“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at me, his eyes earnest. “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll admit to having a personality flaw there.”
“Personality flaw?”
“I don’t like it when things don’t go my way. It was…important to me that you have a good time, and I thought it was ruined. Then I realized my own attitude was likely ruining it for you far more than poor service, so I was angry with myself. I figured you would never want to go out with me again.”
“None of that was your fault.”
“Maybe not, but I did choose the place. In Cascade Falls, I’m used to people bending over backward when it comes to my family, and I wasn’t getting what I wanted.” He lets out a long sigh and then smirks at me. “I think what I’m trying to say is that I’m a spoiled brat at times.”
I’m not sure how I feel about Nate’s confession. It does make him sound like a bratty child, but it’s also good to know he recognizes it as a flaw. That’s a rare quality in anyone. I look at him for a long moment as I wonder what kind of company his family has that makes them so powerful in this town—at least in half of it—and why he’s so vague about what his family does. I contemplate a moment and then decide now is as good a time as any to ask.
“What is your family business, Nate?”
“Real estate,” he says quickly. “That’s the bulk of it, anyway.”
“Which includes maple syrup and a nightclub?”
“Once you amass a certain amount of capital, you find yourself getting into other business ventures.” Nate sits back in the chair a little, looking at me carefully before he speaks again. “The maple syrup plant came from my mother’s family originally. The casino was initially a rental property, but we bought it out when Andrea’s husband passed. The club is the newest expansion for my family, and I’m happy to take the credit for the idea, at the very least. Micha had a big hand in working it out though. So did Antony and Jude.”
“The bartender? Another cousin?”
“Yes, of
