In an effort to distract herself from the panty-melting hotness of the man seated beside her, she set her wine down and asked, teasing, “So, just how many of those hot chocolates did you have to suffer through making today?”
Beau laughed, leaning back in his seat. He rested one arm on the table, his fingers clasped around the crystal glass of bourbon. He raised his eyebrows and grinned as he said, “About a hundred too many. I’ll be glad to not see another heart shaped sprinkle for a year.”
“But they make people so happy,” Val teased. They polished off the crostini and the waiter swept past, removing their empty plates as she folded her napkinback into her lap.
He shook his head with another chuckle. “That’s the only reason we still serve it, one day a year.” He raised his bourbon, and she watched as his mouth met the lip of the glass before his throat worked as he swallowed. “Buncha lovesick fools.”
Val eyed him shrewdly, a smirk pulling up one corner of her mouth. “You can’t fool me, Beau Collins. I know you’re just a big softy at heart, even if you don’t like to show it.”
“There isn’t much on me that’s soft, Val,” he murmured low, his eyes dropping to her lips. Holy fuck. Heat rushed over her chest and up her neck. And lower.
The moment was interrupted by the waiter as he stopped at their table. Val dropped her eyes to her lap, taking a shuddering breath in. Was it the wine that was making her overheated? Or was it Beau?
She glanced up at him as the waiter placed their plates in front of each of them, and she bit her lower lip. Definitely Beau.
Beau ordered another bourbon, though Val declined a second glass of wine, still nursing the first one. The food in front of them looked divine and smelled delicious. Her mouth watered as she picked up her silverware.
Acutely aware of Beau’s presence at her side, she cut daintily into the filet and speared it with her fork before bringing it to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed at the first taste. His dark, low chuckle snapped her eyes open and she rolled her eyes at him when he grinned at her.
“Oh my god,” she moaned after the second bite. “This is… incredible.”
“I’ll make sure to tell Van you said that,” he chuckled again, slicing into his porterhouse.
“Van?” she asked after swallowing a bite of lobster.
“Sulivan Laurance; he’s always gone by Van. He’s Grant’s partner and the chef here,” Beau said, nodding his head toward the back of the room where the kitchen doors were located. “Actually, I’d be surprised if he doesn’t make an appearancetonight. They were both ravenously curious about my date tonight.”
“Oh? His partner?” she breathed, her fork stopping at her mouth.
Beau chuckled and rested his elbow on the table as he leaned closer to her. “Businesspartner, Val.”
The blush that stained her cheeks burned all the way to her toes. “Oh. Are they friends of yours?”
“I went to school with Grant, we’ve known each other for a long time. He met Van about five years ago through a mutual friend. Van was new to the area and wanted to open a restaurant, and Grant needed something to keep himself occupied after… well, he needed a project. Something to start fresh. So they openedThe Wine Gardentogether.”
Val nodded. She understood the necessity of needing to start fresh. She took a drink of her wine and sighed.
“Starting over isn’t a bad thing, you know.”
She snapped her eyes to his.How does he do that?she wondered dazedly. How this man can so easily read her mind…
“I know,” she whispered, nodding just the slightest. “I just… I’m not…” she closed her eyes and set her fork down, before opening them again. “Starting over hasn’t been a bad thing. It’s just… sad. Like I failed. I’m thirty-two and had to move back home because my marriage fell apart, and I couldn’t save it. And now I’m alone and after the last few months of attempting to date again… it just feels so hopeless. The thought of continuing to go on awful first dates is exhausting. Who is going to want someone like me?” She waved her hand and rolled her eyes then in a self-deprecating way when Beau opened his mouth to respond. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant to say. I already decided I’m done dating. I just have to get to the point that I’m okay with the idea of being alone again. For however long.”
“Did you want to save your marriage, Val?” Beau asked, lowering his own fork to his plate.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head as she stared at him. “But I still struggle with this overwhelming feeling of failure. If I’d been better, done more—”
Beau’s hand snapped out and she gasped when his fingers gripped her chin in his fingers, holding her still as he leaned forward.
“If I ever hear you talk about yourself like that again, Valentina, I will put you over my knee and turn that pretty ass pink. I don’t care how old you are or the fact that I used to babysit you.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip. His eyes followed the movement before they slid back up to hers, and his dark eyes were intense as he stared at her. “Wes was a douchebag and didn’t deserve one tenth of what you gave to him, and the saying ‘the trash takes itself out’ has never been truer when it comes to that cheating asshole. Ryan is an idiot for letting you walk away. Those moron’s that had the fortune to go on a date with you and not enough sense in their brains to know what they had for even the briefest of moments… well, that’s their loss. Any man would be lucky to have any part of you, Val. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, only as much as his fingers still gripping her chin would allow. “Yes,” she breathed on a whisper.
He nodded once, then stroked her jaw with the pad of his thumb as his eyes dropped back to her mouth. She held her breath.He wouldn’t… would he?
But then he released his hold on her chin and leaned back into his chair, and Val thought her heart was going to pound its way out of her chest. Could he see it hammering away above the neckline of her dress?
God, she hoped not.
