Page 81 of The Sinner's Sanctuary

“Now that your afternoon is free,” he says in a low, quiet voice, “Is there anything you want to accomplish, or is downtime something you enjoy?’

“Depends on the downtime,” I answer just as quietly.

“You want to tell me what’s up with this lunch?”

My tie can’t possibly be that crooked, but he keeps messing with it. I have no desire to stop him. “Meet me for a drink afterward, and I’ll fill you in.”

“I can do that.”

“Yeah? You don’t have plans?”

“Nothing I can’t change.”

“You’d change your plans for me?” I ask, unexpectedly flattered.

“I like getting drunk with you,” he says.

“Hmm… Not sure what I think about that.”

“I think you like it, too.”

“Bold assertion,” I tell him.

He gives me a cocky half-grin. “I also think you like bold assertions.”

He finally finishes with my tie and rests his hands on my upper chest, lifting his gaze to meet mine. I wonder in a passing way, if my relationship with Marianne were what I’d wanted it to be when we got married whether the way Christian looks at me would affect me the way it does now. I’m terrified of the answer to that, because it could very well be yes.

Thank God for this open arrangement I’ve never once been grateful for.

“Where do you want to get drinks?” I ask.

He gives a casual shrug. “I’ve always wanted to try out the Downside.”

“You’ve never been?”

“Don’t you have to know someone to get in there?”

“Pretty boy like you?” I say. “Doubt it.”

He smiles. “Good luck with lunch.”

“Thank you,” I say, and it comes out a sigh.

He makes a low sound, almost like a groan, and I don’t know how the fuck I manage not to kiss him.

24

GIBSON

Lawther must know something’s up because his expression is guarded and stiff when he shakes my hand, although he makes an attempt at a smile.

The video of him fucking that man plays on a loop in my mind because now he and I have something in common I didn’t see coming. We’re seated in relative privacy at a table near the window of the half-empty restaurant in Lenox Hill. Both tables on either side of us are empty for the moment, but at this hour, in this neighborhood, that won’t last.

“This may be unpleasant,” I tell him before we even get a chance to place our drink order. In fairness, if he wants alcohol, he should be forewarned.

His green eyes narrow. He’s a thinner man than I am, and a few inches shorter. He’s classically handsome. Younger. Probably late thirties like Avery.

“I’m going through a divorce. Nothing’s pleasant these days. I assume this has something to do with that. I know she and Marianne talk.”

---