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“Things you’d want to do if money were no object. Climb Mount Everest? Visit a beach in Bora Bora? What?”
“If money were no object?” she laughed. “Money is always an object. That and the freedom to leave for long periods of time. It’s easier to take a vacation if you do something like work for a hospital. A family business isn’t just full-time work. It’s overtime. It’s your life.”
He quirked a brow. “I’m well aware.”
True. He would be.
She swirled her wine, watching it skim along the beautiful crystal.
“I always wanted to travel—to see things with my own eyes rather than just on Google Earth.”
“What types of things do you want to see?”
She shrugged. “Everything. That’s another reason why I don’t want children. I want to explore. I want to go zip-lining in the Amazon, see the Eiffel Tower, and not have to worry about packing bologna sandwiches and goldfish crackers.”
“Fair enough.”
Throughout dinner, he encouraged her to tell him more, his eyes telling her how attractive and fascinating he found her. And, God help her, he laughed at her jokes. The sexual charge between them kept her from completely relaxing, but she found herself telling him things she’d never told anyone, about dreams she’d always had for herself and the future. He’d even been to some of the places she’d always wanted to go.
Of course. The bastard.
They made their way through several courses. Like their meal, their conversation started off with books and television, but moved to heavier topics like his plans for the club, her plans for Stride, and their relationships with their siblings and parents. Their childhoods. He stopped drinking wine after the first glass, so she did the same.
“So Grant thinks we should forget about our father and sister, but sometimes I wonder if we’ll run out of time to fix things and regret it later. We’ll never be close to them—not with the way they are—but maybe writing them off entirely isn’t the best idea.”
“You’re wondering if you should forgive them.”
“No, I forgave them years ago. It’s hard for some families to accept people like us. I wouldn’t be happy living a vanilla life, or hiding that part of myself to make them more comfortable. Neither would Grant. I’m ready to forgive what’s in the past, but I’m not willing to live a lie.”
“So you want to be able to do what? Talk to them about your sex life?”
“No, I want them to stop acting like I should be ashamed of myself.”
It was hard to believe anyone would disown this man, although maybe a stuffy family might find him overwhelming, or his personal history just too much to bear. Hell, he was a better person than most of the people she knew. How many guys—without experience or training—would take on parenting a baby all by themselves? And considering his prior relationship to her mother? No one had ever loved her enough to do something like that for her, except her family. It sounded like once upon a time, Bethany had been like family though.
A man so comfortable with his feelings was an oddity, but she found she liked it.
The room slowly emptied, and as they polished off dessert, she found that they were alone. The waiter brought coffee, and as he left, he closed the French doors behind him.
Odd. Maybe it was to keep people from requesting the back room now that it was getting late?
The slide of her hair along the bare skin of her shoulders made her shiver a little, just knowing it was down for him. Knowing they were alone.
He must have caught the turn of her thoughts, because his mellow gaze sharpened and turned predatory.
“You should really stop looking at me like that, sunshine,” he murmured.
“Should I? What are you going to do about it?” she asked playfully.
His response to the mock challenge was such a smoldering stare that she felt a bit faint. Coyly, she ran her finger over the rim of her water glass. His gaze slid down her body to the side slit in her dress again, as it had several times over dinner. When she was sitting, the slit revealed the lace edge of her stocking. With any other man, the quasi-vulgar display would feel like a wardrobe miscalculation, but with Will, the bit of naughty just turned her on. Teasing him was fun, especially since she had no idea what he’d do if she kept it up.
“We can’t do anything anyway,” she reminded him. “We’ve both been drinking.” The wine sat warm in her belly, the buzzing along her skin making her hypersensitive to his every admiring glance. Or maybe that was just her reaction to him? The way he looked at her made her feel like she was far more attractive than any other man had made her feel—as though he’d seen her every imperfection and found her all the more fascinating.
His chuckle traveled through her body, a delicious shiver of sound.
“We’ve only had one glass of wine each. Are you trying to say you’re still feeling it?”
“Maybe. Despite that phone call you got from my sister and I the other night, I’m not much of a drinker. My head is all fuzzy, and I’m way more attracted to you than I should be.” She laughed at herself, feeling reckless, hoping he’d do something completely inappropriate.
