Page 53 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“Sounds delicious.” He handed the waiter his menu.
When it came to wine, I asked for recommendations. We ended up with a bottle of pinot noir the waiter assured us would pair well with both meals.
After dinner, I sat back and let the stress of my emotional day slide off my shoulders.
“You okay?” He slid his hand over mine. “I could use a cup of coffee.”
I signaled the waiter and got us both some. “Would you like dessert?”
“No, thank you.”
A dreamy relaxation had swept over me, probably wine related. Epic moved his chair closer so we could both look out at the water. He put his arm around my shoulders.
I studied his profile. Watched as candlelight made shadows play over his features. It would have been too easy to lean over and kiss him. Too easy to take his hand and lead him back to our suite, to our bed, and the unknown but much-anticipated places after that.
Yet Epic was so real to me. So vividly human. I couldn’t think of a good way to gage whether taking advantage of the situation would hurt him.
I had only my feelings to go by, and I…I was falling for him. Maybe because I was older, and I’d been hurt, I’d made peace with giving up the things he rightfully had ahead of him—a partner, a family, a long happy life with someone who had time to devote to making him happy every day. I didn’t expect that anymore, so I was able to take what I could get and let go.
But I didn’t think Epic would ever accept such a fate.
I hoped he never would.
So I steeled myself to leave his heart intact for the man who would someday deserve it, and I hoped by caring but not pushing anything further between us, I could reach the end of the weekend having achieved my goal.
Then he’d demolish my good intentions with a smile, or a wink, or the clasp of his hand over mine.
“How much do thoughts cost these days?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You’re the master financial engineer.” I blew on my coffee before I sipped because it steamed in the cool air.
“I can do sufficiently math-heavy and cerebral finance stuff, but pricing someone else’s thoughts? Not so much.”
“Well, mine are free. I’m tired. I think I’m floating along on a current of good wine, food, and exhaustion.”
He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Best place to be. Ride the wave, sweetheart. It’s great to see you so relaxed.”
“Feel like a walk after coffee?”
“Yeah, maybe.” He studied my face. “You just want a cigarette.”
“I won’t lie.”
“Fine.” He took another sip of his coffee. “We can sneak back to your favorite guilty pleasure spot.”
“You have no idea what my favorite guilty pleasure is or my favorite spot, for that matter.”
He lifted his brows. “If that’s a dare, I bet I could find out in about fifteen minutes.”
“It’s not. Brat.”
“You’re the bratty one.”
“No, you are.” I grabbed the check wallet, signed the meal to the room, and slid my chair back to stand. My spine cracked one vertebra at a time like popcorn.
I hoped Epic hadn’t heard, but he snorted. “Sure you have another walk in you?”
“Shut up.”
