“Agreed. I’d like to think things have warmed since then.” I raised a brow and watched his hands still on the menu.
Slowly, he laid it down and met my eyes. Those twin blue orbs pierced mine like they had a direct line to my deepest insecurities, and I sucked in a breath, completely lost for words and desperately hoping I had not misread our situation.
“More than warmed, Summer.”
I swallowed, the remnants of the wine turning sour on my tongue. Not that I didn’t want to have this conversation, it was more like I hadn’texpectedit so soon. Going from casual indifference to charged attraction was one thing, but jumping headfirst into something more seemed like a one-way ticket for things to end epically.
That was the sensible, optimistic thing to do, right? Take things slow. Get to know one another. Have more dates filled with getting-to-know-you conversations and awkward flirting.
“Hot, perhaps? You think so?” I said, irritated that my voice sounded so meek. Because that was not me. I was strong and loud and opinionated. A force of nature with fluff around her middle and a penchant for soft cheese and slippers.
But something I saw in Maverick’s gaze from across our small table with the pretty chandelier that he helped create had me giving in to the urge to let him lead and see what he had to say.
“Scorching, Summer. But something like this—someone like you—had never been on the board for me.”
Oh,this wasn’t about us moving fast or slow. This was about him letting me down without drama. I stared at my menu, not reading the words and pushing down the disappointment.
Not disappointment that whatever this was had a clear expiration date; more like disappointment that I allowed myself to think that one night of amazing sex and a few stolen moments could lead to more.
Stop.I thought, shaking my head slightly, as my brain continued to spiral from one unlikely outcome to another, confusing me even more since I wasobviouslyclueless as to what I wanted.
Maybe Bev’s insistence that I knew his entire tragic backstory was her way of warning me to stay away. Or perhaps the dismay was with myself for being dick-matized by the first guy who paid me a bit of attention since Trey.
“Summer?”
There was still hope for me, right? I wasn’t doomed to be a spinster, sequestered to a one-room apartment with only plants for company?
The handsome doctor flashed before my mind’s eye. I guess if I caught his attention there was still hope. But my frown deepened as I thought about that situation, because I’d gotten the distinct vibe that he wasn’t used to hearing the word no.
Dad was way off base with that one. Men like him were all about the chase, and once the prize was caught, the interest diminished. That, and he reminded me too much of a jock I dated in college for me to ever take things further than seeing him at follow-up visits.
“Summer?”
I shook my head and looked at Maverick. His brows were furrowed, and the grip he had on the stem of his wineglass looked like he was about to snap it in half.
“Oh. Gosh. I was miles away, wasn’t I?” I said, smiling. “Sorry about that. What were you saying again, please?”
“Tell you in a sec. But first, you tell me something. What were you thinking about?” he prompted, closing the menu and pushing it to the edge of our table.
“This and that, I guess. Wondering what the difference is between South Carolina oysters and French oysters. Also, Dad’s heart doctor and plants. Nothing important, really.”
“Well, I think you answered my question, then,” he said through gritted teeth and a scowl that matched my own.
Furrowing my brows and tilting my head, I rested my hands on the table, giving him my undivided attention. “I’m sorry, Maverick. Please repeat what you said.”
I reached across the table and grasped his wrist, stilling his restless movement. Regardless of how I felt, he didn’t deserve my mind wandering. Just because my stupid thoughts had drifted from this being the beginning of something to my impending spinsterhood, didn’t mean it was his fault that he didn’t return my feelings.
“Right. So, it’s obviously not shared, but I said that even though this was never in the cards for me, I can’t get you out of my head, and if you’re up for it, I’d like to see where this goes. See more of you, I mean.”
My mouth opened, and I let go of his hand, snagging a piece of crusty bread from the middle of the table and putting it on my plate. Maverick sighed and pushed the butter toward me, but I made no move to pick up my knife, too stunned to speak. Whiplash from an out-of-control rollercoaster would be better than how fast my thoughts were racing.
“But forget all that. There’s no reason for us not to have a nice dinner. Even if I can’t read a word of this damn menu. As long as I don’t accidentally order something with mushrooms, I’ll be fine.”
“Not a fan of mushrooms?” I asked, still trying to process his declaration while holding back a giggle.
“Not even a little. Never been a fan of fungus.”
“That sounds like me with shrimp. I can’t even look at those little bottom feeders without feeling like I’m going to lose my lunch.”
