THINGS COULD HAVE been super weird after our “first course,” but they were anything but.
After an orgasm that still had me reeling, Bryce washed up at the sink. I excused myself to the bathroom to do the same and then came back to finish preparing and plating our meals.
When he was done, he met me in the dining room with the bottle of champagne. Popping the cork, he poured us each a bubbling glass of the pink drink and we took our seats. I loved that the table was round, with no sharp corners or awkward angles. No matter where we sat, we would be next to each other, close enough to talk, enjoy, touch.
Bryce took a moment to admire the meal set before him. His nostrils flared as he sucked in the charbroiled aroma, practically licking his lips.
I laughed at his adorable expression, pleased with myself for doing something right for a change. “I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
“Oh, it will. I have no doubt.”
I was certain there was a double meaning there. I smiled shyly, trying my best not to crack under the pressure of his heated stare. If I gave in, we’d never get to eating all this food. Might not be a bad thing, I convinced myself. But before I succumbed to the dirty thoughts overpowering my hunger, Bryce lifted his glass of champagne, motioning for me to do the same.
Clinking our flutes, he winked at me. “I don’t believe in toasts, otherwise I’d say something charming about new beginnings or meeting the right person at the right time.”
“That sounded an awful lot like a toast to me.” I took a sip, letting the fizz tickle my tongue and simmer my insides with a refreshing chill. “And who doesn’t believe in toasts, anyway?”
“Eh, I guess it’s just one of my many flaws.”
“Many? I have yet to find one and believe me, I’ve been searching.”
His eyes amplified at my joke. “Have you, now? Found anything interesting?”
I leaned forward and stroked his cheek, loving this first sign of any insecurity. He couldn’t possibly have even the slightest flaw. Men like him were dating-world unicorns. I was lucky enough to snag the myth and make it mine. “Relax. I’m kidding. You’re damn near perfect. It’s why I can’t seem to say no to you.”
At that, his face brightened and he picked up his utensils to cut into the steak.
I was anxious as I watched on and awaited his reaction. To my relief, he closed his eyes and emitted a satisfied groan at the first taste. Even the way he chewed was sexy. Imperfections, my ass. How would I get through this dinner without begging him for more of what he gave me before?
“Good?” I cleared my throat.
“Delicious. I haven’t had steak in a while.”
I cut a piece for myself, popped it in my mouth, chewed and swallowed its amazingness before asking, “Watching your cholesterol, doctor?”
“No,” he shook his head and dug into the potatoes. “Vegetarian.”
“What?” I dropped my fork and knife. “But . . . your Facebook page showed a picture of you at The Roasted Pig. And you were the one who suggested Sam get that burger at lunch the other day.”
His throaty laughter filled the room and echoed off the walls of the otherwise quiet and empty house. I couldn’t imagine what was so funny. I was mortified. Not only had I screwed up but I also confessed to trolling his Facebook page.
Can I die now?
I lifted the champagne flute and downed the rest of my drink.
Bryce gripped my wrist and took the empty glass. He set it down and poured me more, the mischievous grin never leaving his lips.
“Tell me you’re joking,” I pleaded.
“I’m not, but it’s okay.”
“How is this okay?” My hands flailed in front of me. “There’s a bleeding slab of dead cow on your plate and you’re a vegetarian. This is so not okay.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled and that damn smile would not wane. “Beautiful, calm down. It’s not a lifestyle choice. I go on and off. This happens to be an off time, but it’s really not a big deal. I promise. See?” He made a show of cutting another piece of the steak and eating it with a look of pure enjoyment on his face.
“You don’t have to do this, Bryce. There are plenty of vegetables and . . . I baked for dessert.” I stood from the table and motioned to where my phone sat on the charger in the kitchen. “I can even call in an order to the vegan Chinese place down the street, but don’t force yourself to eat something you don’t want just because I messed up.”
“London, you didn’t mess anything up. It’s really, really good. Now sit down and eat.”
There was a genuine aura to him. I didn’t think he was lying. But I still felt terrible. “Are you sure?” I tilted my head.
“Positive. Sit.”
I did, drowning in embarrassment.
Bryce reached out to pet me, sliding his thumb up and down the top of my hand. “Aside from that mouth-watering appetizer back there, the highlight of my night was hearing that you stalked my Facebook page.”
“Oh, Jesus.” I pulled out of his grip and buried my face in my hands. “I wasn’t stalking! I was . . . trying to learn more about you.” It was a muffled explanation—a poor, unbelievable one, at that.
“You know you can ask me anything, right? I’m an open book. We don’t have to have any secrets between us.” It was comforting to know he didn’t think I was a psycho for creeping his social media accounts, and I loved that he was willing to start this relationship without any surprises, but I was still humiliated.
I had to lighten the mood before I got lost in my head and shut him out completely. “Can’t we just go back to kissing? I can’t be held responsible for what I say in the throes of passion.”
This time his laugh came from his gut, robust and contagious. I couldn’t help but join him, a sense of relief flooding my overwrought senses.
“I’d never object to kissing you, but let’s eat before the food turns cold.” Bringing my hand to his lips, he kissed my knuckles and then laced our fingers together. “Because once we get started again, I don’t plan on stopping.”
My moan was contained by biting my bottom lip. Forgoing dinner altogether was pretty tempting, but he had a point. We’d been on five previous dates, but somehow we’d been too occupied either watching a movie or dancing to really get to know each other. “I guess it would be nice to talk some more. I have a million and one unanswered questions.”
“Okay, then, ask me anything.”
I rattled a few off in my head before deciding to start off easy. “How was my mother today?”
He paused and pinched his lips in a sideways pout. I was sure this wasn’t what he had in mind, but it was fair ground. He finished chewing a mouthful of vegetables and swallowed before wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Mmm. Those are really good, too, by the way.”
I winked in approval and he continued. “Ella was pretty much the same as yesterday. I’m not overly concerned yet, but I would start considering what we discussed about the transplant. Have you spoken to your brother?”
After a long day of dealing with patients and hospital craziness, I was sure this was the last thing Bryce wanted to talk about over a romantic dinner. I’d change the topic after a quick explanation about Memphis. He just needed the basics. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before, but Memphis lives in California. He’s been out on his own, doing his own thing for so long, I can’t even remember the last time I actually saw him. Maybe Christmas, three years back.” How sad was it that I wasn’t really sure?
Memphis and I shared a very ordinary brother/sister relationship growing up. At one point Sam and I followed him around like lost puppies. We looked up to him because he was cool and popular, but Memphis became too cool to hang around us because he was busy breaking hearts and being a jock. Which was how I met Hunter. Both two years older than me and Sam, my brother and Hunter played on the same baseball team in high school. They were actually pretty good friends—until Memphis left for college. And once he settled himself out there, we were lucky if we heard from him once a month.
But Bryce didn’t need to know all of this right now. It wasn’t relevant anyway. “Without getting into a ten-hour conversation about the waywardness of my brother, let’s just say he’s hard to get in touch with. I sent him an email and he hasn’t responded yet. And that’s not unusual. It could take a few days; it could take a few weeks. My brother is the king of inaccessibility.” There was no other way to slice it so I shrugged and continued eating.
“Does he know the severity of your mom’s illness?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “I haven’t corresponded with him in some time, but he’s pretty good at answering Mom’s emails. Unless she’s candy coating things—and you never know with her. But I’m sure he’s up to speed on the latest.”
Bryce rolled his eyes. He didn’t even know my brother but his reactions were on point. Memphis was a phantom; we’d gotten used to his absence.
“Have you thought more about taking Sam up on his offer?”
I hadn’t and I didn’t want to broach that topic with Bryce. It was very personal between Sam and me. There was no explaining it; it just was. “Not yet. I will. Let’s talk about something else.” I smiled and took another sip of champagne.
“Sure . . . like what?” he asked, clearly sensing my apprehension. He did a good job of pretending he didn’t notice, though.
“Ah, okay. I got one.” I mulled the thought over in my head. I didn’t want it to come out wrong. Talking about what we did earlier in the kitchen could easily embarrass the crap out of either one of us, me especially. But I had to know. “The other night when you showed up here and we were gonna . . . well, after we kissed . . .”
A wicked spark flashed in his eyes, his mouth twisting upward in a grin. “Go on.”
“You stopped. You told me I wasn’t ready.”
“You didn’t like that, did you?” His tongue darted out to lick a smear of butter from the potatoes off his lips. It lingered a moment longer than necessary. I was sure he did that on purpose.
“No, I didn’t.” I felt my cheeks flush. “But you made up for it tonight. I have to know . . . what changed your mind?”
His Adam’s apple bulged and then retreated. Bryce was nothing if not confident, in the best way possible, of course. And he never faltered, never lost that spark of certainty that made him all the more attractive. It was a major turn-on. I was sure he knew that and used it to his advantage. But at the mention of his sudden change of heart, I could tell Bryce had to think about his answer. And when he finally revealed it, I was taken by storm.
“I saw Sam leaving your house just as I was pulling up.”
“Okay.”
One brow arched into a sharp V, his eyes smoldering as they watched me fidget beside him. “I know you said he’s not a threat, but—”
“Bryce,” I interrupted with a giggle. “He’s not. Really. We’re just friends. You have nothing to worry about. The novelty of living next door to each other again will wear off before you know it. As a matter of fact, I’m helping him house hunt this weekend.” I folded and unfolded my napkin to keep my hands busy.
“I didn’t mention it to make you uncomfortable. I was simply answering your question.”
“Okay, but what does Sam being here have to do with you . . . um . . .” I couldn’t say it.
“About making you come with my mouth? About making you mine?”
“Uh, yeah. That.” I pressed my thighs together, my throat suddenly bone-dry.
Amber irises were eclipsed by large, black pupils. It was a breathtaking sight to see—the declaration of a man’s emotions through his eyes. “He might not be a threat in your mind, but to me he is. Every man is a threat. You’re a gorgeous woman, London. I see the way random people look at you. Men, women, you’re impossible to not notice. And while I don’t know enough about your friendship with Sam, I do have a hunch that he’s been treating you a certain way out of respect.”
“Respect?” I was confused, floored by his compliments and his crazy opinion, but thoroughly confused.
“You were married; now you’re not. Sam’s back in the picture and I think he likes you a little more than you think he does.”
Ah. Jealous Bryce was back. But he was wrong and it was clear that no matter how much I tried to convince him otherwise, he’d made up his mind. He’d eventually learn the truth on his own, and in the meantime I’d embrace this sore spot he had for Sam if it meant there was more where that incredible orgasm came from. “Think what you want, doc, but I’m all yours, remember?”
“That’s what I want to hear.” He craned his neck and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek, a light and carefree tone replacing his serious manner from moments ago. He forked another potato and swirled it around in the steak’s juices. “Anything else you want to ask me?”
There were so many random things I wanted to know about Bryce. And after the heavy topics of Sam and my mother were out of the way, an easy flow of eating, drinking and talking started with effortless questions flying back and forth. Silly ones like when’s your birthday, how do you take your coffee, and what kind of music do you like kept us busy for a while and then when I felt we’d covered much of the mundane stuff, I ventured back to the heavy again.
“Why’d you really leave Oregon?”
His jaw ticked momentarily, a faint whisper of pain and regret shadowing his features.
I screwed up again, didn’t I? I knew that look all too well. I had enough heartbreak and regret to recognize the ache of reliving it in your mind. I had no intention of making Bryce lay his past before me for dissection. If and when he asked me about Hunter, I’d probably clam up, too. “You know what? Forget I asked. Let me clean this up and put on a pot of coffee. I know you like it light and sweet, but is decaf okay?”
Bryce reached out to stop me from coming out of my chair. With a firm grip on my wrist, his whiskey-swirled eyes pierced mine, the sorrow behind the mesmerizing color impaling my heart. Oh, Bryce. I know this pain.
Without further prompting he smiled and said, “I’m glad you asked. It’ll come up eventually because . . . I’m not going anywhere, London. I’ve waited a long time to find someone like you and I’ve never been happier. If we’re going to do this, and we are going to do this, we might as well get it all out now. No secrets, right?”
No secrets. It was a loaded promise. Everyone had secrets they wished to bury so far down into their souls that they never turned up. I had them. Most of them centered around Hunter, our failures, my misgivings. It was ridiculous to think a man who was older and more experienced than me didn’t have them too. Unicorns don’t exist.
I considered what this would mean. What we were about to share by revealing those secrets. I was scared, both to confess and to learn. But I was also curious, and if what Bryce said was true—I’m not going anywhere, London—this conversation needed to happen.
I was impatient to discover more about him, layer by beautiful layer. We’d only touched the surface and I sensed there was so much more to go.
What did she do to you? I didn’t even know who she was, but I wanted to know so I could help him heal. Let’s fix each other’s broken hearts, together.
My breath hitched in my throat as I took in the sight of him and readied myself to answer. It was a familiar image, a vision I recognized in my own reflection. One I still fought to disregard whenever I looked in the mirror.
I squeezed his hand, urging him to continue, coaxing him to empty the weight and set it free. I wanted to do the same, because it was Bryce who finally gave me the strength to see past the sad, broken woman I had been and wear a hopeful smile. Mom had tried. Sam, Allie, and Emilia had aided in building me up when I was certain I needed an entire gut and remodel to be whole again. But the man before me fed my soul in a way I never imagined it would be nourished again. I was ready to bare it all.
“Okay. No secrets,” I agreed.