Page 232 of The Professor's Wife

I thanked the hostess as I sat, and she handed me a menu. I declined a drink, so she filled a clean glass with water.

I tried to look around her while she told me about the day’s specials.

Then she left with the promise that a server would be with me shortly.

I barely looked at the menu.

My eyes returned to Tristan, drinking him in as though I were starved.

He leaned closer to the little girl and said something that made her eyes light up. She clapped her hands and nodded.

Tristan chuckled and reached for his guitar. He strummed it idly.

He was clearly on a break. Everyone continued talking, though they glanced his way every few moments, greedy for more music.

For more of him.

I wasn’t foolish enough to think his rugged handsomeness wasn’t part of the attraction. Many of the people watching him were drinking him in.

He lifted his glass and took a drink. It looked like water, but if what he had said the night before held true, it might have been something stronger.

Still, he didn’t appear drunk or buzzed.

I looked toward the beautiful mother. She played with one of her earrings as she watched him, though she tried not to make it obvious.

An unwelcome feeling tightened my stomach.

Beautiful women filled the patio, many of them watching him with poorly concealed interest.

I felt foolish for believing his compliments so easily.

How many women had he called beautiful?

Had he told that mother she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen?

Was this a mistake?

My gut was quiet.

There were no warning bells telling me to leave.

Maybe I was listening too carefully to what my body was trying to tell me.

Maybe my gut was a dumbass after all.

I lifted my glass and took a sip, feeling stupider the longer I sat there.

Music began.

The start of something upbeat drew my eyes toward him.

It wasn’t a song I recognized. It was lighthearted.

He licked his lips and moved closer to the microphone.

The moment he began to sing, everyone fell quiet.

He looked around the patio, focused and attentive. The misery from the night before was gone. There was no anger or melancholy.