"Need some help with that?" Liza asks.
I laugh. "You think?"
I'm sure the sight of the two of us attempting to maneuver the large wrapped canvas out of the house is amusing to the driver who offers his help. The three of us manage to get it in the sleek black town car with ease.
"What a nice guy," Liza whispers. "And kinda hot too."
I shake my head. "Bye, Liza. Thanks so much for helping me get ready."
She grins widely. "Go knock him dead, babe. You deserve a night of feeling like a queen."
I wave as I step into the car, feeling like Cinderella.
The restaurant is everything I imagined—soft lighting, exposed brick walls, and the gentle murmur of conversation floating over smooth jazz. But the moment I see Caine standing by our table, everything else fades into background noise.
He's devastating in his navy three-piece suit, the fabric tailored to perfection across his broad shoulders. When he turns and spots me, his face lights up with that slow, magnetic smile that makes my knees weak.
"You look absolutely stunning," he says, his voice that familiar velvet that sends heat straight through me.
I hate how my body responds instantly—the flutter in my stomach, the way my breath catches.
I steel myself, making a silent promise to maintain my composure tonight, to resist whatever dangerous pull he has on me. I won't let myself get swept away by those devastating green eyes or that slow, hypnotic way he moves.
I'll be the good wife, the faithful mother—I'll remember who I am and what I owe to my family. No matter how he looks at me, no matter what he says in that velvet voice that makes my resolve crumble, I will stay in control.
I have to.
"Thank you." I smooth my dress as he pulls out my chair, his fingers brushing my shoulder as I sit. Even thatbrief contact makes me picture things I shouldn't—his hands on my skin, his mouth on mine.
Stop it, Jenna.
The waiter brings wine, and we order—scallop linguini for me, steak for him. But I can barely focus on the menu when he's looking at me like that, his eyes intense and hungry.
"Thank you for being here with me tonight," he says, raising his glass. "I know this isn't easy."
"What are your intentions, Caine?" The question tumbles out before I can stop it, my voice barely above a whisper in the intimate lighting of the restaurant.
I set down my wine glass with trembling fingers, the crystal making a soft clink against the white tablecloth. "With all of this? With me?" The words hang between us like a confession, and I immediately want to take them back. But they're out there now, raw and vulnerable, and there's no hiding behind polite dinner conversation anymore.
He pauses, considering. "To spend time with you. Just be around you. I can't say goodbye, Jenna. I've tried."
The honesty in his voice makes my chest tight. "Okay… fair enough. I get it. This has been hard for me, too. Let's just… try to talk like normal people."
A grin stretches across his face. I'm amusing himagain. And he's driving me crazy already. "Tell me about your day," he says playfully.
I find myself smiling as I tell him about Liam's latest obsession with building elaborate train tracks that Oliver keeps destroying. Caine listens intently, asking questions about Liam's school, about his personality, about what he's like.
I jabber on, of course, but he doesn't seem bored. He seems genuinely interested.
"What about you?" I ask. "What have you been up to?"
"Boring meetings. Numbers. Playing… I have another tourney coming up soon. But I kept thinking about this," he says slowly, his long fingers moving in that deliberate way of his as he gestures between us, the space that seems to hum with unspoken tension.
His eyes hold mine steadily, and I can see something vulnerable flickering beneath his usual composed exterior. "About what we have. About you." He pauses, the way he always does before saying something important, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for whatever truth he's about to lay bare between us."I honestly can't stop thinking about you. It's driving me absolutely insane."
I understand exactly what he's saying because I've been drowning in the same impossible thoughts, the same maddening pull that seems to follow me throughevery mundane moment of my day. When I'm folding Liam's tiny shirts or wiping down the bar at the pool hall, when I'm lying next to Reeves in our unmade bed listening to his steady breathing—Caine is there, invading my thoughts like some beautiful, dangerous fever I can't shake.
The memory of his touch, the way his voice drops to that velvet whisper when he says my name, the intensity in those stunning eyes when he looks at me like I'm the only woman in the world. I've been carrying this secret weight, this guilt and longing twisted together so tightly I can barely breathe sometimes.
