Page 117 of Ugly Truths
He doesn't take his eyes off me as he lifts his crystal water glass to his lips and says, somewhat bewildered, “You think I’m doing this for show.”
Before I can muster a response, Jacob arrives with our appetizer. The practiced smiles return like second nature, and we assure Jacob that we’ll need a few more minutes with the menu. He nods understandingly and leaves us once again.
The sun dips further below the buildings around us, casting shadows that I hope mask our strained expressions. I touch Silas’s inked forearm with a tentative smile.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I know what this dinner was meant to do, but this type of public affection,” I pause to clear the nerves from my throat, “makes it hard for me to keep my expectations in check.”
Silas looks down at the hand resting on his arm and then back up at me. The silence stretches, and I’m suddenly desperate to salvage the evening I just ruined.
“I–I made things weird. I’m sorry. Just forget I said anything.”
He doesn't respond, so I serve the carpaccio. My hands shake, utensils clattering as I transfer thin meat slices onto his plate.
When I'm about to retreat into the quiet task of arranging my own serving, Silas's fingers encircle my wrist, stopping me. I close my eyes,taking a deep breath before setting down my utensils. His gaze is all fire, and I want to shrink away.
“Do I treat you poorly in private?” he asks under his breath.
There’s a sudden pinch in my chest. “No.”
“Am I more affectionate with you in front of others than when we’re alone?”
I swallow. “No.”
“Do you not want to be seen in public with me?”
My head is shaking before the word leaves my mouth, “No.”
“Did I make tonight feel like a job?”
My teeth tear into the side of my cheek. “Yes,” I breathe.
Silas’s expression softens. Those dark brown eyes flick across my features while the gears turn in his head.
Gently, he lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my wrist before holding my palm against his cheek. Each scrape of skin sends a tingle down my arm.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” he confesses. “Doing something normal with you and not having to hide it.”
Heat explodes from my stomach and flows to the ends of my fingers and toes.
Silas exhales a soft sigh. “I'm sorry if that got lost in translation,” he continues, “I haven’t done a single thing tonight that I didn’t want to do.”
The warmth radiating from his hand and face seep into me, settling deep beneath my skin in a way that blurs where I end and he begins.
I search his face for doubt. Even as curious eyes glance our way across the patio, his focus stays fixed on me. He waits, patient and quiet, like he has nothing but time for me to believe him.
And I do.
The feeling of relief is almost physical as I sink more comfortably into my seat. The corners of my lips curl up, and the moment Silas sees it, he answers with his own grin. He lowers my hand and uses it to pull me overthe armrest of my chair, lips finding mine in a slow, tender kiss that turns my insides molten.
Against me, he murmurs, “Can we start over and just have a nice dinner together?”
I nod, and he kisses me again before releasing my arm and straightening. “You better figure out what to order,” he says, switching his plate of carpaccio with my empty one and picking up his abandoned menu. “If we don’t order soon, Jacob's going to start to wonder if we know how to read.”
Laughing softly, I scan the specials. Silas's hand returns to my calf. Suddenly, all those curious eyes I’ve avoided since we arrived cease to exist.
Chapter 46
Silas
