Authors: Kristen Painter
“I’m glad you approve. I don’t wear suits much but tonight seemed like a suit kind of night.”
“Really?” She ran her hand down his tie, just to touch him some more. “Why is that?”
Shaking his head slowly, he stepped forward and put a hand possessively on her hip. “Patience.”
“Not one of my virtues,” she whispered, tilting her face up to met his.
“I know,” he whispered back before he kissed her again. The kiss was a slow, deliberate tease, and said he knew exactly how much she wanted him.
Her knees went liquid but his hand on her waist kept her steady as he broke contact. “So would you say I’ve improved?”
She nodded, still tasting his desire on her lips. “Most definitely.” She slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.
This time, the connection burned hot and urgent. How she didn’t melt into a puddle on the floor, she had no idea.
He pulled away, his control visibly shaken. “Any more of that and you can forget dinner.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” At the moment, food was not what she hungered for. “We could go to your office—”
“We will.” His voice was thick and husky, dripping with the promise of things to come. “But not yet. We have an entire evening ahead of us. No need to rush.” He swept his hand out behind him, toward the dining room.
Red rose petals covered the floor in a trail leading to a small table for two. Just like the first dinner he’d prepared for her here, the room was alight with candles, the table impeccably set with fine china and crystal. Except instead of the pristine white she’d seen before everything tonight was dressed in crimson; the tablecloth, the napkins, the chair covers. In the center of the table sat a low bouquet of roses in red, burgundy and a deep pink.
All for her. “Thank you, Kelly. It’s so beautiful.” She squeezed his hand. He really was the most wonderfully romantic man. A small twinge of sadness nipped at her. Why couldn’t he be a little older? At a different place in his life? “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me.”
He smiled and kissed her hand. “Why shouldn’t I? You’re the most important woman in my life.”
Smiling weakly, she didn’t know what to say. Words like that made her uneasy. Made her feel like she was teetering on the edge of cliff she’d already fallen over twice.
“Besides,” he slipped his arm around her waist, “you’re hard to impress. You told me so yourself.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?” She had only herself to blame. She’d encouraged him without even realizing it.
“Mm-hmm.” He escorted her halfway to the table, then stopped, reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black remote. He pushed a button and the soft jazz playing in the background stopped, only to be replaced by the opening strains of “Unforgettable”.
“Dance with me?” he asked.
She nodded and he put his other arm around her, resting his hands on the small of her back. Being surrounded by him sent a new wave of warmth over her skin. She clasped her hands behind his neck and smiled coyly. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
“You mean it hasn’t worked yet?” He gave her a wink. “I thought it would be nice to dance. We haven’t done that yet, you know.”
“You’re right, we haven’t.” She rested her head on his shoulder and they swayed together as Nat King Cole serenaded them with the classic love song. It was nice, resting against his strong form, his arms wrapped around her like he’d been holding her this way all his life. How could she give this up? Heat built in her eyes at the thought of life without him. But she’d known from the start that this was just for fun. Nothing serious.
You’re not the woman he needs.
She pushed those thoughts down and let herself sink back into the moment. A deep centering inhale brought his warm male scent. She smiled. She might not be the woman he needed for his future, but she could certainly be the woman he needed right now.
And when the future came, she’d be strong. Stoic. Carefree. He didn’t need to know her heart was breaking, which she was one hundred percent sure it would.
Kelly hummed along softly with the music as it faded out. He kissed the top of her head, then used the little remote to restart the background music. “We should do that more often.”
A man who wanted to dance. Couldn’t he have at least one serious flaw? “I think the chances are good. Viv’s annual charity ball is only a few weeks away. There’s usually a full orchestra. Plenty of dancing opportunities.”
He walked her to the table, pulled out her chair then moved to a silver floor stand holding a bottle of icy champagne. He opened the bottle with the skill born of years of practice, easing the cork out with a soft pop. He filled their flutes before joining her at the table.
“When do I get to find out what we’re celebrating?” She almost couldn’t stand it.
He lifted his glass with a dazzling grin. “Here’s to impatient women and persistent agents.”
She lifted hers, too. “That doesn’t tell me much. I can’t stand it.”
“I know. Isn’t it fun?”
He drank and she followed suit, hoping to hurry him up. “Now are you going to tell me?”
Nodding very slowly, he set his glass back on the table. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” She’d been ready since last night.
He tipped his head to the side and seemed to be considering the silverware. He straightened his fork. “Maybe later.”
“For the love of all that’s holy, if you don’t tell me right now, I will never sleep with you again.” Anticipation crawled over her skin like ants. She wanted the news and she wanted it now.
“I thought using sex as a weapon was frowned upon by you therapist types.”
She raised her brows and gave him her best don’t-mess-with-me glare. It had always worked on her husbands. Maybe it would work on him. “Do you really want to play this game with me?”
He laughed and held his hands up. “Quit looking at me that way. Makes me as nervous as a tick on dip day.”
She pounded her fist lightly on the table, clinking the silverware against the plates. “Tell me!”
“Okay, okay.” He shifted in his seat. “My agent’s been working on a big deal for the last couple of months. It’s taken a while because the folks involved wanted to see how my cookbook was going to do.”
She smiled and nodded. She knew it had something to do with his book. “Go on.”
“Anyway, Marty, my agent, called me a few days ago and the deal is on. They want me.” He took another torturously slow sip of champagne, smacking his lips when he finished.
She inched forward to the edge of her seat. “Who wants you? For what? Details. Now.”
His smile almost blinded her. “The Foodie Network. They want me to do a cooking show. Can you believe it? A little ole country boy from Texas on TV.”
“Oh, Kelly, that’s wonderful news. You certainly have the looks to be on television.” She leaned back, letting his words sink in. With his easy charm and handsome face, the camera would love him. He’d be an instant success. His star was going to rise so fast, he’d have no choice but leave her behind. He’d probably end up with some vapid Hollywood actress. Ignoring the growing lump in her throat, she forced a smile. “I’m so, so happy for you. What’s the show going to be called?”
“Texas Spice. It’s going to be a live show with a studio audience.” His eyes were sparkling, his words coming in a rush. “They want a full season. Twenty-two shows. Twenty-two. I still can’t believe it.”
“You deserve this, Kelly. You’re a hard worker. A genius in the kitchen.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “You’re going to be a star. A bigger star.”
“Thanks, honey. Of everyone I know, I wanted to share this with you the most.”
“You’ve done a good job of keeping it a secret. But then, I guess keeping secrets is something you’ve had practice in.” She gave him a wink to let him know she was teasing.
“All right, I deserved that.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “We should eat. Let me just run to the kitchen and tell them to start the service.” He kissed her on his way past.
As soon as he was gone, she took a deep breath. The time to break things off had come sooner than she’d expected. No, that wasn’t true. It had come sooner than she was ready. Better to end things now before he became any more well known. The papers would already run her name through the wringer over this as it was.
She wouldn’t do it tonight. That would be cruel. Tonight she’d celebrate with him. She closed her eyes. Take him to bed one last time. Reveal in the attentive way he made love, the way he made her feel like the most desired woman in the world, like age really was just a number.
Then tomorrow, she’d come by and explain things. He’d understand. They were both adults and this was never meant to be anything more than a fling. They’d agreed on that. The “I love you” in the hospital had been an aberration of sedatives and pain, nothing more. He probably didn’t even remember saying it.
She opened her eyes and stared at the beautiful red roses in the center of the table. She wanted to wish she didn’t remember hearing it but that would’ve been a lie. Those words would be with her until the day she died.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Kelly returned to his seat. “Food’s on its way.”
With a cheerfulness she didn’t quite feel, she answered, “Wonderful. What are we having?”
“To start, roasted leek and corn chowder followed by grilled lobster with cilantro butter, rosemary polenta and avocado salad. And of course, dessert.”
“I finally get lobster? Too bad you didn’t get a TV show sooner.” She gave him a smile and told herself she might as well enjoy the night, since it was going to be their last.
“You had lobster last week at that French place.”
“I’m talking about lobster you made for me.” She tucked her napkin on lap. She was going to miss the banter.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m a bad boyfriend. You should probably give me a tongue-lashing.” He laughed.
“That will depend on how good dessert is.” She tried to ignore that he just called himself her boyfriend. Tried to ignore the little shiver of pleasure tickling her spine. Tried to tell herself she was too old to feel so giggly about a word she didn’t want him using in the first place.
She changed the subject. “So where’s the studio? Uptown?”
“No.” He shook his head, a strange light in his eyes. “Neither. They’re building a set at the studio.” He offered her a tentative smile. “The show’s being filmed in California.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Oh.” She didn’t have the breath to say more. He was leaving. Her appetite vanished.
“I’ll only be gone long enough to do the tapings.” He reached across the table and laced his fingers with hers. “Wait, that’s not entirely true. Marty’s booking some promotional stuff for me to do while I’m out there. So a month at the minimum but probably more like two. Anyway, I’ll be there until things wrap up.”
His hand felt surprisingly warm. Or hers had gone cold. She nodded, her tongue as numb as her brain. Maybe she
should
break it off tonight. The candlelight coming through her champagne glass lit the bubbles like tiny Christmas bulbs. She watched them rise to the surface, pop and disappear.
“Mery, look at me.”
She glanced up. His eyes were lit up like a summer sky. How could she tell him now they couldn’t see each other any more?
“It’s too long,” he continued. “Too long to be apart.”
She breathed a small sigh of relief. So that was what this elaborate dinner was all about. He was going to break things off. Good. As long as she didn’t have to do, that was fine with her.
“Right,” she agreed, more than willing to help him out. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could go home and have a good cry. “Too long. People change, especially when they’re experiencing that kind of growth in their lives. You’ll come back a different person.”
“Exactly.” He smiled and released her hand. “I knew you’d understand.” He slipped out of his chair to stand beside her. Pulling something from his pocket, he dropped down to one knee. “Which is why when you come with me, as my wife.”
He opened the small velvet box. A diamond the color of sunshine sparkled up at her.
The room spun, the floor tilted beneath her feet and even though she was seated, she felt herself slipping. Her fingers bit into the chair’s soft leather seat. She couldn’t breath. It was like drowning in water two inches above your head. She could see the surface, she just couldn’t reach it.
Concern crossed his face. “I know the ring’s a little different. It’s called a fancy yellow rose cut. Little over two carats. I picked it out special, because yellow roses always make me think of you. I guess I shouldn’t have figured you’d like it, too. If you don’t want it, you can pick out a different one.” He inhaled. “I think I’m rambling.”
She managed a deep shuddering breath.
He swallowed. “I know we haven’t known each other long but I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you, Mery. And with this trip to California and the show, well, my life isn’t about to get any simpler. I need you.”
“You said you didn’t want to get married.” Nerves thinned her voice down to a whisper.
“I know.” With a relieved sigh, he nodded. “But that was before I realized life without you wouldn’t mean squat.”
“I told you I didn’t want to get married either.” The tingling in her fingers spread up her arms. Maybe she was going into shock. Was the air being siphoned out of the room?
“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m not ready for this.” She pushed back in her chair. Wood scraped against wood.
“I’m fine with a long engagement. Whatever you want.” He set the black velvet box on the table in front of her.
The ring was beautiful. Three small, white marquis diamonds flanked each side of the exquisite center stone like leaves. It really did look like a yellow rose. She couldn’t help but be touched by the thought and care he’d put into picking it out.
She snapped the box shut and steeled herself for what she was about to do.
“I told you I didn’t want to get married. I meant it.” She pushed her chair further away from the table and stood. “I’m sorry you went to all this trouble but my answer is no.”