Page 14 of Playing With Fire
“Yeah, this isn’t really what I was going for when I came out tonight.”
I have to hand it to him, he might be a little slow on the uptake, but once he sees his harem and me with no company at all,including him, he politely bids the girls farewell—after getting all of their numbers of course—and doubles his efforts to improve my night.
Exiting the bar, he suggests we take a stroll. “Why don’t we just walk along the waterfront and see what we come across. It’s a popular time for bachelorette parties.”
I laugh and scratch my shoulder through my dark grey t-shirt. “And have a repeat performance of what happened back there? No thanks.”
“Come on, you’re never going to get laid with that attitude.”
This makes me laugh harder. “I’m never going to get laid when I’m out withyou,you mean.”
Phoenix holds up two fingers. I think he’s going for thescout’s honorsymbol, but when he does it, it just looks dirty. “Well, I solemnly vow to flush all the hot pussy toward you and only once you have your woman for the night, will I make an attempt to get myself laid.”
“Phoenix, you get laid eight nights out of the week as it is,” I remind him.
“There’s only seven nights in a week, Hud.”
“That’s my point,” I deadpan. His resulting laugh is dark and low, making evenmydick sit up and take notice.
Fucking traitor.
On the way to the cut-through to the water, we pass a nice Italian place. There are tables close to the large window that overlook the street. I’ve never been in there because I don’t understand paying seventy-five-dollars for something I’m going to enjoy for thirty minutes and then literally shit out, but others must because the place is always packed.
As we approach, we can see the soft glow of the tea lights on the tables closest to the window. Phoenix is talking about his newest chickens on his farm or some shit as I peer in the window and immediately spot the woman I’m trying so hard not to think about.
I stop walking and just stare.
From where I’m standing, I can’t see her husband’s face, but I’m suddenly overcome with the desire to know more about him. Does he treat her well? How long have they been married? Does he worship the ground she walks on?
As I take her in, I notice she looks the same and also completely different. She’s no longer crying, but she’s not smiling, either. Her dark lashes appear even longer than usual as she looks down at her lap demurely. Her lips are painted nude, and her tan skin remains flawless. Just like at the lake, she must feel my eyes on her because she raises her gaze and looks directly at me through the window.
Only this time, I see the light of recognition.
Chapter 7
Shannon
Those eyes.
Now that I’ve noticed them, I’d recognize them anywhere. I feel them on me as if they’re hands roaming my flesh.
Hudson is standing just outside the window of De Luca’s. He’s behind Gregor so my husband is unaware that another man is currently holding my attention.
It’s our anniversary. It’s also the one night a year I can count on a romantic dinner with Greg because everyone eventually asks,what did you do for your anniversary? What did Gregor get you?He takes pride in being able to say he got reservations at the exclusive De Luca’s on top of whatever other extravagant gift he’s gotten me. It’s a shame I only got to drive last year’s Ferrari once before he decided to trade it in for my conservative mom-mobile.
Greg and I have managed to put a Band-Aid over the bullet hole caused by his company dinner, but nothing has really changed. The life force of our marriage continues to bleed through the patch.
I’ve been trying to be attentive all night, but instead of a conversation, I’ve been listening to a monologue of active court cases ever since we sat down.
Now, I’m struggling to pull my eyes away from Hudson.
Dressed casually in a dark grey t-shirt that clings to his muscular torso, he has a silver chain around his neck that disappears beneath his neckline. His black hat is on backwards, making him look younger than his delivery uniform does, and his jeans have fashionable rips on the thighs, but something tells me he didn’t buy them like that. On his wrist is a leather band with some kind of bead in the middle. Even under the glow of the street lights, I can see his tan from the summer.
Before I can stop myself, my mind wanders and I begin to wonder what would happen if I just got up from this restaurant right now and went to him.
If it weren’t for Serafina, I think I’d actually consider it, and remnants of my resentment nag at me.
Thankfully, the friend Hudson’s with grabs his shirt sleeve and yanks him away from the window since apparently, both Hudson and I appear to be too stupid to direct our attention elsewhere.
