“Judge MacDonald plays Canasta with Gigi and Frankie every week. They’re going to find out whether I tell them or not,” I admitted. I’d hoped it was a different judge who would be in this morning, but of course, it wasn’t.
“They should hear it from you,” she said and took a bite.
I watched her for a minute, devouring the dance of enjoyment over her features. I could survive on the sight of her, like a flower under the rays of the sun.
“Max?” Daisy’s voice made me jerk. “Is everything okay?”
Shit.“Yeah.” I shoved my sandwich into my mouth.
“You were staring at me. Is something wrong?” I felt her looking at me a little too closely. “Is there food on my face? Sauce?” She proceeded to drag her delicate pink tongue over the full curves of her lips, and desire settled straight and heavy into my dick.
“No,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Is it something I said? Do you not want?—”
“It’s not anything you said or did, Daze,” I said, frustration leaking into my voice. “It’s just…you. I’m just staring at you.”
She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she stared back for a long second before averting her gaze back to her dinner. “I’m okay, Max. Really,” she finally said with a soft, weak laugh.
Of course, she assumed I was worried about her. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. I was worried about her, butthat wasn’t why I stared. I stared because I couldn’t stop myself. I stared because, from the moment I’d met her, if she was in the room, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
I didn’t trust myself to say anything else. Better that I didn’t veer any closer to secrets I couldn’t afford to share. The minutes filled with ravenous silence, both of us eating in a quiet orbit of all the things that were between us.
“When are you going to tell them?”
I picked up a napkin and slowly wiped my mouth.
“Your family, I mean,” she clarified when I didn’t reply quickly enough.
“Not sure yet.” Until this morning, the only thing I could think about was whether Daisy was going to sayI dothis morning or not.
“What if we go to dinner at your aunt’s house this week?”
My muscles stiffened. “You want to be there?”
“I thought it would be easier.” Daisy slid off the chair, intending to wash her plate, but I got to it before she could. “I don’t want you to tell them yourself. You did this because of me—for me. I should be there. I should be the one to explain.”
“They’re not going to be mad, Daze,” I tried to placate her. “They’ll understand.”
“Please, just let me do this.”
I gritted my teeth. She thought she was helping me—to be there to weather the storm. Only she was preparing for a hurricane rather than an earthquake. It was the wrong catastrophe, believing they’d be upset that I’d married Daisy to help her. The real disaster was that I’d married the woman I wanted for four years, and she’d never know.
Abandoning both our plates in the sink, I went to the freezer, welcoming the blast of arctic cold to my face, hoping it could freeze my expression from revealing too much.
“Okay,” I agreed, pulling out the ice cream. “We can tell them together.”
And hopefully, Nox could keep his sarcastic mouth shut.
I popped the lid on the ice cream and turned to grab bowls. When I spun back, Daisy already had her spoon in the container, scooping out her first bite. She met my gaze. “I’m okay eating from the container if you are.”
“Sure.” I swallowed hard and replaced the bowls as she ate. “What’s the verdict?”
“Delicious,” she garbled, her mouth full of ice cream.
Fuck.
A drip of ice cream leaked from the corner of her lips. In any other scenario, I would’ve praised the speed of my reflexes, the way my hand went out and caught the droplet as it reached the edge of her jaw. Unfortunately, in this scenario, as I slid my knuckle up the soft patch of skin between her chin and lower lip, the only thing I could think was that I’d acted without thinking. I’d reached—touched—without considering the consequences.
