Page 13 of It's a Widow Thing

Michael cleared his throat. “Speaking of handy, I took the liberty of opening a bottle of champagne. Care for a glass?”

Champagne.Good idea? Bad idea?She stopped herself right there. She couldn’t question everything, forever. “Yes, please.”

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” He handed her the glass, filled nearly to the rim with bubbly golden goodness. “Cheers. Here’s to a lovely evening.”

She clinked her glass against his, noticing the way his eyes stayed on her even when he knocked back his drink. Despite her nerves, she loved the shameless way he looked at her. It made every molecule of her body spring back to life like champagne bubbles popping against her lips and tongue. Maybe Lucy was right. Maybe cleaning the pipes wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Dinner smells amazing.” She trailed him into the kitchen, taking her own turn at eyeing someone a little too long. The drape of his gray trousers perfectly accentuated the curve of his ass. And when he bent over to pull a large enamel pot from the oven? Well, she had to brace herself against the kitchen counter.

It wasn’t hard to imagine a parallel universe, one in which she had no fear of repercussions. In that world, she wouldn’t have hesitated to slink over to him, run her fingers down his spine, nip at his ear. She imagined him turning, grasping her ribcage with both hands, recklessly hoisting her onto the countertop and popping the buttons of her blouse with one hand while the other clasped the back of her neck. She would wrap her legs around his waist and he would finally kiss her, the much-anticipated reunion of impetuous lips, scrambling to reacquaint themselves…Oh, God. Another kiss.

Michael was the only man she’d kissed for real in the last two years. She’d been on a few blind dates with uninteresting men worthy of nothing more than a thin-lipped peck on the cheek at the end of the night, but that had been it. She not only felt like a nomad in a sexual desert, a kiss famine had accompanied her long journey. And an honest-to-goodness soul-bending kiss was her most entrenched weakness. If Michael’s lips met hers tonight, it would set all reason free like a butterfly on a spring day…Down, girl.“What are we having?”

Michael lifted the lid from the pot, releasing a wave of steam and complex, heavenly aromas. The air filled with the scent of long-simmering red wine. “Coq au Vin. My mother’s recipe.”

Sabrina dropped her head and once again leaned against the counter to steady herself.I’ll be damned. The man can cook.“You made Coq au Vin? For me? Did you go to work at all today? Doesn’t it take an eternity?”

He turned on the flame beneath the pot then began to gently stir. “My mom’s a very smart woman. Her weekday recipe takes considerably less time than the Sunday afternoon version, but I did have to start cooking before two.”

Michael’s grand effort made her heart flutter. He’d taken off an entire afternoon to cook for her. “Your mom has two Coq au Vin recipes? That’s quite a culinary repertoire.”

Michael nodded, spooning flour into a small bowl and whisking in some water. “My grandmother on my mom’s side is French. I think she learned her way around the kitchen before she learned her ABCs, and she shared all of that with my mom.” He turned and looked over his shoulder at her, flashing his incredible eyes. “And then, to make things even more interesting in the kitchen, my dad is from Louisiana, and the man can cook some crazy good Creole food. Which works really well with my mom’s French influence. My brothers and I can all cook. There was no getting around it.”

He painted such a lovely picture—two distinct lineages coming together, then passing down traditions to their children. She imagined elaborate meals on Sundays, secrets shared, and a kitchen filled with love. It was a complete one-eighty from the way Sabrina had been raised, details she didn’t relish sharing. “How many brothers?” She stepped closer to the stove, just to watch him work.

“Two. I’m the oldest. Brian is four years younger and Daniel is four years younger than him. It all revolved around our mom’s career, since she’s always been in politics. It’s all two-year, four-year, or six-year terms.”

“Do your parents live in DC year-round?”

“They have a house in Alexandria, Virginia. Our mom didn’t enter the Senate until Daniel was in college, so at that point, it just made sense for her to be as close to the action as possible. She and my dad go back and forth between there, the house in Connecticut, and the beach house.”

That was an awful lot of houses and it all hinted at wealth. She’d always known Michael was very successful, but she didn’t know the full breadth of his family’s situation. “Nice. Where’s the beach house?”

“Hamptons.”

Michael threw outHamptonsthe way some people might mention Queens or uptown, but of course, she knew that it was no small thing to have a house in the damn Hamptons. “It all sounds really nice.”

“I feel like I’m yammering. What about you? Do you have siblings? Where are your parents?” He turned to her and cocked his head to one side. “I just realized I don’t even know where you grew up.”

It was her reflex to change this subject, but Michael had been open with her so she felt she owed him the same. “I’m an only child. Grew up around Philadelphia. My dad died when I was ten. My mom passed away when I was in college.” That was it. End of story.

“Wow. I am so sorry.” He reached for her arm with pity painted all over his face. And she knew then that tonight was definitely not the night to tell him that she was a widow.

CHAPTERSIX

If Michael wasgood at anything, it was the art of sealing the deal. He did it all day long, coaxing high-roller clients into risky high-yield investments, assuring them that his research and hunches were right on the money.

He also greatly enjoyed pursuing women, in part because it almost always went very well for him. His brother Brian had said that he’d only find the right woman by finding her. He couldn’t sit around and wait for her to traipse by. Sabrina was more than worthy of the chase, but she had him wishing he’d worn better running shoes. Her coyness brought out his mile-wide competitive streak, making him eager to figure out what would work.

Dinner had proven that she would not be bowled over with the usual tactics. Witty sexual innuendo was countered with a joke. If he was really lucky, he’d prompt a fit of giggles that made him want to sweep everything off the dining table with the back of his hand and take her right there. His casual boasting about career milestones was met with polite affirmations. She seemed interested, but there was something else there, an uneasy edge. He was getting somewhere with Sabrina, but was he gettingtherewith her? He still wasn’t sure.

He went with the old reliable during dessert. “You are absurdly beautiful, you know. I mean, it’s mind boggling.” He licked the last of a triple-chocolate cake from the back of his fork, admiring the way the light brought out the rosy pink of her cheeks.

Sabrina grinned sheepishly as she took a sip of her wine. The bit of delight she seemed to derive from his comment accomplished one thing—it made his trousers uncomfortably snug. “And you are ridiculously handsome.” She placed her glass back on the table, running her finger around the rim, an act that the hopeful side of him read ascome out and play. “I think that leaves us at a stalemate.”

“Sounds like quite a meeting of the Mutual Admiration Society.”

She laughed longer than the joke might have warranted as he searched for words.We could fuck the mutual admiration out of each other.