“I’ll have a bite.” I take a piece, though I've already had an entire steak dinner at Del Frisco’s.
I only eat because I really need to kiss her, and sharing a meal feels like a step in that direction.
“I just signed up with a temp agency, and I’m in a sublet down the street. I figure I’ll cry my eyes out at some point, but I’m having fun so far.” She flashes me the brightest little smile, and I want to kiss it right off her face.
“What did you study in school? Any career goals? Are your plans to be a wife on hold, or are you planning on forgiving the bastard?”
Can I get her naked?That’s really all I want to know.
“I never want to see my fiancé again, so my plans to be a wife are off, I guess. I studied law. I want to be a defense attorney eventually. I want fair trials for people who are wrongly convicted. I'm not really into getting murderers acquitted, but everyone deserves a robust defense.” She takes another bite and shies away a little, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know most people want to support the victims, but I think most people involved in crime are victims of something.”
She's probably had to defend her position often, wanting to advocate for the wrongdoers, but I think it takes balls. I only follow the money, which means I'm in prosecution and high-stakes contract law. She is a bleeding heart. A sweet, naive thing.
“I can see the appeal. It's a hard job, though. Sometimes the crooks are just crooks.” I reach across and wipe a smear of red sauce off her lip with my thumb.
She would have gotten to it eventually, but I needed to touch her.
“Oh, thanks.” She blushes, looking flustered. Good.
“So what are your thoughts on marriage now?” I ask, steering us closer to the conversation I really want to have—my proposition.
“Landon and I are done. I met him when we first started college, and apart from a guy I kissed in high school, he was my first love. I’m still pretty numb, but I don’t want to marry someone who cheats on me on my wedding day. I mean, I deserve a man who loves me, and Landon wasn’t it. I guess… I just…”
Her voice cracks. Oh shit. She’s starting to cry.
“Woah, hey. I’m sorry.” I take the clean side of my linen napkin and dab her cheeks. “Didn’t mean to start the waterworks.”
“No, it’s okay, I haven’t really let myself think about it. I’ve been so angry, but now…” She starts to sob quietly.
I take the plate of pizza out of her lap, set mine down, and pull her into my embrace. She fits perfectly against my chest, her tears soaking into my expensive shirt. I don’t mind.
“You did the right thing. A brave thing,” I murmur into her hair. “Some women are so eager to be married, they’d excuse him for desecrating their wedding day. What your fiancé did is reprehensible. And you got up, got out, and started a new life for yourself... all in three days. You're miraculous.”
I pull back, smile, and kiss her forehead, because fuck, she’s too delicious not to comfort.
“Sorry,” I say, not really sorry, but the look of shock on her face has me sliding back a little. I chuckle. “I don’t know what came over me. Your dumbass fiancé lost the best thing he ever had. He’s a fucking fool.”
I squeeze her shoulder and pick up my plate, normalizing the intimacy.
“Thank you,” she says softly, sniffing.
“They’re closing the kitchen,” I say, glancing at my Rolex. “Do you want dessert? They have a pretty sick crème brûlée.”
“I don’t even know what that is.” She looks down at her plate and wipes her eyes.
An image of me feeding her custard crosses my mind, and before I can second-guess myself, I am picking up my phone to text the manager.
“It’s custard with a crunchy sugar shell. It’s almost better than sex.” I offer her a wink.
“Oh my God, sex. I’m keeping you from having sex.”
Damn, she’s cute.
“The night’s still young.” I offer her a seductive smile, and she returns a nervous one.
“It must be midnight.” She checks her phone and shakes her head. “In Iowa, I’d be fast asleep by now.”
“Well, we’re not in Iowa. Midnight in New York is when the city wakes up. If you’ve noticed, the place just got busy. I have a room, don’t worry. I still very much plan on using it. But I want crème brûlée. I got us one to share, if you don’t mind.” I cock my head and look innocent. I am anything but.
