“Yeah. All that... bravado.”
He squared his shoulders, considering. “I was trying to get your attention, I think.Everyone’sattention. Because I didn’t know any better. I was just a kid. But... I don’t have to do that now. At least, I don’t want to. Especially not with you.”
Heat cascaded through her. God, he looked beautiful, lit by candleglow. How had she missed it before?
He crooked a half-smile. “Any other questions?”
“No.” Her voice quavered. “Except... Will you sit down with me?”
His smile spread. “Let me get the Brussels sprouts. Then I’m all yours.”
They ate dinner leisurely, Gallant refilling her wineglass at every opportunity, Aubrey making rapturous sounds with each bite. Given the intensity of the letter, she was happy to keep the conversation light, and didn’t have to feign her enthusiasm for the meal. The chicken melted in her mouth, a chorus of flavors singing on her tongue. Apparently, this man could alsocook—another thing she hadn’t known.
“How’d you learn all this, anyway?” She savored a juicy bite. “I can barely make a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.”
He propped his chin on his fist. “My last girlfriend was a chef. Living with her taught me a thing or two.”
Aubrey set her wine down. “Oh. Sorry.” She hadn’t meant to bring up past heartbreaks. If they were, in fact, heartbreaks. Which she suddenly itched to know.
“Don’t be,” he said. “Lena moved out a while ago. Nine months, now.”
“Oh. Was it... serious?”
“Probably not as much as she wanted it to be. She was always trying to get me to be more. . .” He took a deep breath. “Emotional.”
“You weren’t?”
He spun his wineglass in place. “I guess not in the way she wanted. It didn’t come to me naturally, with her.”
She weighed that. The alcohol had made her head sloshy and turned her vision fuzzy around the edges. Or maybe she was seeing more clearly than ever.“But with the right person... youareemotional?”
“I don’t know.” He smiled, the curve of his mouth freighted with significance. “What do you think?”
There was you. Your face, your hair, the slope of your mouth, your laugh, the way your eyes crinkled when I said something that amused you.
Aubrey’s heart crowded her throat. “I think... yes. Definitely yes.”
He chuckled. The silence that followed stretched into something she could fall into.
“You know what?” she said. “This has been delicious, but I think I’m done eating.”
His smile wavered. “Oh. You’re going? So soon?”
“I didn’t say anything about going. Just that I’m done eating.”
Gallant held her eyes. She held his. When the silence swelled to a breaking point, he slid from his seat and came around the table, his hand held out.
Aubrey took it. The napkin slipped from her lap with a sigh. She didn’t stop to see where it fell.
For a wild instant, she wondered if he would try for the bedroom. But he led her to the living room, instead, where he ignited the gas fireplace and sat on his black leather couch, legs spread wide. He tugged her close, stationing her between his knees.
She stared down into eyes the color of Caribbean waters. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Gallant cocked his head. “For?”
She let out a laugh, thick enough to sound drunk. Which she probably was, now that she thought about it. “For getting you so, so wrong. For dismissing you in high school. I’m sure I was part of the storm, but I didn’t mean to be.”
A beat passed. “The storm.”
