Page 26 of Champagne Nights

I didn’t know that Ethan would be here, or else I wouldn’t have come. Penelope never told me whose party it was, and I didn’t ask. If she had told me, Charles, I would have known that there would have been a ninety-nine percent chance that Ethan would have been here. It was awkward. I wouldn’t lie. Hearing his voice and smelling his scent again sent my pheromones into overdrive. He was nervous. That much, I could tell.

“I need to use the restroom,” I softly spoke to Penelope.

“I’ll show you where it is,” Ethan spoke as he lightly grabbed hold of my hand resting on the table.

Electrifying shocks traveled throughout my body at his mere touch. I swallowed hard as we both got up from our seats. He placed my arm in his and led me inside the house.

“Here you are,” he spoke. “The toilet is on the left.”

“Thanks, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be waiting outside the door.”

I washed my hands and felt around for a towel as soon as I finished. Once I dried them off, I opened the door, and his scent pelted me in the face—an ache formed between my legs as Iplaced my hand on his elbow. As soon as we made our way back out to the patio, we heard Charles starting to propose to Lexi. I couldn’t help but smile when she screamed yes.

“I’ll be damned,” Ethan spoke. “She said yes.”

“I knew she would.”

“Shall we go congratulate them?” he asked.

“Let’s.” I grinned.

After congratulations and hugs were given, Ethan escorted me back to the table where the servers were just starting to serve the cake.

“It’s chocolate,” Ethan spoke.

“Chocolate’s my favorite.”

“Mine too.”

“Can you describe my piece to me, please?” I asked.

“Of course. It’s chocolate cake with white icing, and two pink roses are on the side of your piece.”

Picking up my fork, I smiled, stuck it into the cake, and took a bite.

“Oh my gosh. This is so good.”

“It’s very good,” he spoke.

“The one thing you should know about me is that I’m a huge sweets eater. I love all kinds of pastries.” I smiled.

“I do, too. My housekeeper, Ingrid, makes the most amazing tarts.”

“What kind does she make?” I asked as I finished off my cake.

“All kinds. Lemon, chocolate, strawberry, cherry. You name it, she makes it.”

All of a sudden, I felt the soft touch of his finger against the corner of my mouth.

“You had some frosting there,” he spoke.

“Thank you.” I brought my napkin up to my mouth.

“Would you like to finish the walk we didn’t get to take last Saturday?” he asked.

“Now?”

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