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“I agree completely. But to answer your question, there’s a bistro only a few miles away. It’s in a swank spa and hotel. They do a seven-course tasting menu. The reviews are outstanding.” I turned down a graveled path and slowed down once I reached a large, wrought iron gate that slowly opened as the car approached. The hotel was brightly lit at the top of the hill.
“Seven courses sound perfect. I haven’t eaten since brunch this morning and I barely touched that,” Lena said.
I frowned in concern. “How are you feeling now?”
She waved away my question. “Fine. It must have been a 24-hour thing. Now I’m famished. I could literally eat a horse. Though I wouldn’t. I like horses.”
I pulled up to the valet and we got out of the car. I handed the keys to the eager young man. I then took Lena’s hand and led her to the restaurant.
“You’re not going to warn him not to scratch the paint?” she joked.
I shrugged. “There are more important things in life than a car.”
She leaned into me and I put my arm around her. We stood like that for a moment before going inside. She turned her face up to look at me. The snow had stopped, but it was cold. Our breath came in puffs and her nose had turned red. Her eyes glittered in the bright Christmas lights hung in the trees outside the door.
“Thank you, Jeremy. For bringing me here. For renting the cabin. For thinking of me.”
“I always think of you, Marlena. Don’t you know that?” I said softly before kissing her.
She gave me a playful push. “Don’t go all romantic on me or I’ll think you like me or something.”
“We can’t have that,” I remarked dryly, taking her hand again.
The maître d' sat us in a shadowed corner. The restaurant was small, with only twenty tables and all of them were full. The chairs were deep and plush. I practically sank into the cushions. The waiter brought a tablet and told us to choose our wines from the selection.
“You choose,” Lena insisted, so I picked a very expensive bottle of red.
Once the wine was brought to the table and we were both sipping from glasses, our attention turned to each other.
“This is almost weird,” Lena commented, putting her wine down.
“Weird? How?” I asked.
“It’s like a date,” she answered.
“That’s because it is a date, Marlena. What else would it be?” I chuckled. The waiter brought our first course, New England crab with soy and sesame and a side of ginger asparagus.
Lena looked troubled. “This doesn’t feel like just sex anymore.”
I lifted my fork and paused before putting the food in my mouth. “No, it doesn’t,” I agreed. We both took a bite and in unison groaned our appreciation.
“Damn, this is amazing.” She took another bite, then another. When she was finished, she pouted so I swapped plates with her.
“I like you, Jeremy. A lot. But…” Her words trailed off. She didn’t need to finish her thought. I knew what she was going to say.
There was Adam to consider. There was the fact that we worked together.
There was my very active sexual past.
How do we move on from that?
I reached across the table and took her hand. “We don’t have to figure it out this weekend. Let’s simply enjoy being here. Together. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
Lena smiled and it warmed every inch of me. Sometimes she looked at me like she saw a man that I wanted to be.
Our next course was brought out and we both dived into pressed confit chicken with truffle glaze.
“This is decadent. I almost feel guilty eating like this,” Lena groaned, taking another sip of wine.
“There’s nothing wrong with indulging once in a while. I’ve learned over the years to never take the good stuff for granted. That as easy as it comes, it can just as easily disappear.” I wiped my mouth and pushed my empty plate to the side. The waiter was there in an instant, taking away the dirty dishes and refilling our wine glasses.
Lena propped her chin on her palm and gave me a probative look. “You’ve mentioned bits and pieces about your life before Southport. Tell me about your family. I want to know what little Jeremy Wyatt was like. Was he as cocky and full of himself as the adult version?” She chuckled and I joined her, wishing I had easy childhood recollections to share. Not just ones of crying and anxiety; memories of tears before bed and hiding underneath my covers.
I never talked about my growing up years. Adam and Rob knew very little. Todd and Derek knew some, but not all, for the only reason that they were there for the worst of it. I sure as hell never shared that part of me with a woman.
