Page 69 of Come to Me
After we clean up and get dirty all over again, Luke tells me he's made dinner reservations.
"Somewhere nice," he says. And shakes his head. "Dammit, now, I sound like Samantha. But you will probably want to dress up."
"In something nice?"
"Now, you sound like her." He kisses my forehead and pulls me into his arms. "God, I'm so tempted to cancel the reservation, stay in, and fuck your brains out."
I gulp. "I have no objection to that."
"Too bad. You're not getting out of this." He digs through his luggage and pulls out a pair of slacks and a silk shirt. God damn, he's going to look good in that. "You'll like this place. And after dinner, I'm going to take you to... it's a surprise."
A surprise after dinner? My immediate thoughts are filled with dread, but I push past it. Luke looks at me like he knows what I'm thinking.
"It has nothing to do with eating or not eating or talking about eating. In fact, I swear that I'm not going to talk about eating for the rest of my trip."
"I'll believe it when I hear it."
He shakes his head playfully. "Still not a fan of promises from Luke Lawrence?"
"Definitely not."
There's an hour until we need to leave, so I drag Luke to the couch. We sit together, flipping through the channels and talking about nothing in particular. It's almost like a normal day at home, like I'm not in New York with my life turned upside down.
For a minute, I can see this as a future. I can't see the big moments--the proposal, the wedding, the thirty-year anniversary. I can't imagine us with kids. I really can't imagine me with kids. After all, I can barely take care of myself.
But I can see this. I can see lying next to him, doing nothing in particular. I can feel this, how safe I am when I'm around him, how much I know everything will be okay.
He gives so much of himself to me, puts up with so much of my bullshit.
I have to do better. I have to talk to him. I have to show Luke that I'm as madly in love with him as he is with me.
But not yet.
Right now, all I need to do is relax in his arms and soak in his presence.
Right now, all I need is Luke.
* * *
The restaurant is,in fact, some place nice.
Insanely nice, actually. It's in midtown, hidden between a few skyscrapers. Best of all, it's private. Really private.
Tinted windows. Drawn shades.
Our booth is in the back of the restaurant, in a quiet corner where almost no one can see us. It's still early in the evening, before the place is full of executives on dates with models, and there's almost no one here.
Just me and Luke in our own private world.
Luke orders wine. Yes wine.
"Since when do you drink wine?" I ask, surprised.
"It's a special occasion."
"Is it?"
He nods. And, is he... is he blushing?
