Page 27 of Rivals to Lovers
He couldn’t back down now. “Thought it might wash some of the dirty thoughts from your head?”
She didn’t look at him, but he saw her smirking into her glass. She took a long sip, then winced. “It didn’t.”
He grinned, not looking at her. She could be trying to off-balance him, but he didn’t care. The buzz in his blood was completely unrelated to alcohol.
“I heard you’re giving a copy of your book to the daughters,” Mo said.
“Yours too,” Wes said.
She reached discreetly behind him. From their position, it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else that she momentarily rested her hand on the curve of his ass. When she squeezed it, like testing a piece of fruit, he suddenly wished he worked in produce or that he was produce, more accurately. That he was one of the apricots that got to make up the body wash she’d rubbed all over herself minutes ago.
“You’re trying to throw me off.”
“Wouldn’t even dream of it. But”—as she said the word, she lightly pinched his right cheek—“the competition ends after the reading. After dinner.”
“Officially.”
“At least our part of it,” she said, removing her hand and looking him in the eye now. Her expression was suddenly serious. “If this competition isn’t fair, Wes, then dirty thoughts or not, you’re getting nowhere with me.”
“It’s fair. I promise it will all be fair.”
She nodded, as if to herself. “So, do you have plans for tonight?”
His mouth went dry. He could make some, he was certain. He wanted them to involve more of that delicious pressure.
Luckily, the dinner menu featured no pork products. For a few of the guests, it seemed to include almost nothing at all. Flor was a vegetarian and Talia was doing a fourteen-hour fast. Talia refused to even acknowledge there was food on the table. Drinks had been changed to something less fluorescent for dinner, a Riesling to pair with the meal. Gus flushed as he drank, cheeks glowing under the chandelier’s light.
“Aren’t you fasting?” Flor asked her sister.
“Clear liquids only,” Talia said, gazing through the wine glass at Flor, then winking.
Instead of eating, they were talking about New York real estate. Wes could fake this conversation in his sleep, but it obviously baffled Mo. Flor turned to Mo after five interrupted minutes of monologuing. “And where do you live, darling?”
Mo stumbled through a response, but once she got her cross streets out, Flor raised her eyebrows and changed the topic.
Wes picked at the asparagus and goat cheese tartlets, his thigh pressing against Mo’s under the table. He wanted to be alone with her, to be past the final chapter. He was too nervous to eat or drink.
Dessert was raspberries and fresh whipped cream. As the bowls were being set on the table, Gary walked in. He glanced at the cold tartlet at his place setting and grimaced. “Can I have two desserts instead?” Wes heard him whisper to Angie.
Angie patted his shoulder and brought a second serving.
“These are delicious,” Mo said, trying to draw Gary into the conversation. Wes noticed that Flor and Talia hadn’t even said hello or thank-you to him since he reentered.
Gary finished his first bowl, then moved on to the second. “The raspberries were locally sourced.”
Mo looked shocked. “In April?”
Wes had no idea when raspberries were in season but was more than happy to continue a conversation that both Gary and Mo seemed interested in. “How do they manage that?”
Gary smiled. “It’s an indoor greenhouse for berries across the harbor. It’s an ingenious setup.”
Mo had a gift for putting people at ease, and Wes loved that she was interested in so many things that had nothing to do with things he understood. Gary looked happier by the end of the conversation, and Estelle did too. Flor and Talia looked either like the alcohol was finally hitting them or bored to pieces by the time Gary and Mo had discussed the pollination strategy, plus the couple that ran the place. Flor’s head rested heavily on her palm as she stared out the window, while Talia kept stirring her uneaten dessert, pushing the cream side to side like a tidal wave.
After the plates were cleared away, Estelle clapped her hands together. “Shall we get into the main event?”
The entire group adjourned to the library, and Wes got to see Maureen’s expression soften, her gaze catch on the desk by the window. In the center of the room were several large, plush couches. The hardwood floor was softened by a gray-and-white plaid rug.
Seltzer fizzed in the background—Gus was using one of those old-fashioned seltzer bottles to make after-dinner cocktails in the corner of the room. Talia opened a window along the far wall to smoke, and the breeze unsettled some of the dust on the bookshelves so that it caught in the light. Gary settled himself in a stand-alone wooden chair next to Estelle’s side. Wes sat next to Maureen on the love seat closest to the door. It was hard to tell who was more likely to bolt. Mo tapped her fingers lightly on the manuscript on her lap. Her red nail polish had chipped in spots to reveal the pale natural nails underneath. How hadn’t he looked at her long, tapered fingers yet? He had been probably too busy looking at her other attributes, but now he wanted nothing more than to snag her hand off her book to keep it from shaking like it was now.
