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His heart leaped like he’d scored the winning touchdown in the big game. He couldn’t stop his grin as he ordered her a chardonnay from the bartender.
“Actually, I’ll have a martini. On the rocks, extra dry. Two olives.” She turned keen eyes on his as she pulled a plastic container from the bag. “Seems you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“Seems so.” Vic blew a laugh from his lips and watched the bartender make a drink he’d never in his life seen Aubrey order. When she pried off the lid to her dessert, he leaned close, catching a whiff of her clean-cotton scent. “Are you gonna share that with me or what?”
“Or what,” she replied, her smile painted on. At least that’s what her smile felt like. Like she’d slapped on a faux joker’s grin from cheek to cheek. She’d had a long week, and all she’d wanted tonight was to sit down with a bottle of wine and her favorite movie. First, she’d eaten dinner—a salmon Caesar salad she’d made herself—but by the time she’d reached for the wine, the idea of a cannoli from the Silver Saddle had introduced itself into her mind and refused to leave.
Now she was here, a martini she didn’t want in front of her, and she was eating dessert with a man she didn’t particularly like. She used to love him, but that’d been a long time ago.
She sipped the bitter drink and licked her lips, vowing to choke it down for the sake of her pride. Vic wasn’t allowed to presume what she needed or wanted out of life. Not anymore. She was no longer the innocent sixteen-year-old who’d been enamored with him, or the eighteen-and-a-half-year-old who’d practically begged him to take her virginity. Hell, she wasn’t even the twenty-year-old who’d bounced her engagement ring off his chest after a horrible argument.
She was thirty now, an adult. Teacher of the year. Honorary TCC member. Single, sure, but no longer ignorant of the ways of the world. And she had a PhD in Vic Grandin. She knew beneath that charm there was a man who relished having control. A man who believed he was God’s gift to everyone.
But.She’d grown up and understood that punishing him with the cold-shoulder treatment wasn’t helping her evolve as a person. She saw him around Royal often—how could she not when the Grandin family roots ran four generations deep into their ranch land? She’d see him at the TCC pool party tomorrow, and again next month at the Halloween masquerade, and, oh, don’t forget the Christmas festivities. Perhaps she should have refused the offer of membership...
As unpalatable as the idea of forced conversations with him was, she was done keeping to herself. She had a life, too. Accepting the offer to announce the chili cook-off winners was only the beginning of her being out and about more. She and Vic might as well call a truce. She took another drink of her disgusting martini, narrowly avoiding a shudder.
“Since when do you drink martinis?” he asked, sounding unsure.
“A while now,” she lied. “I see you haven’t veered from the same red-labeled beer you were drinking when you were underage.”
“Don’t fix what’s not broken.” He sucked on the beer bottle, his throat moving as he swallowed. She took a good look at him up close. From dark wavy hair she knew was soft to the touch to espresso-brown eyes she’d sworn she’d glimpsed her future in. His solid build had filled out some, but his jeans and flannel shirt and the boots hooked on the rung of the chair hadn’t changed a bit. She shouldn’t admire him but couldn’t help herself. This was Royal. She could throw a rock and hit a guy wearing a flannel and boots, but Vic looked better than any Texan had a right to. Especially given how well she knew him.
They drank and chatted about his parents and hers, his family’s ranch and what it was like for her to teach high schoolers. Maybe it was the martini loosening her limbs, but she found herself relaxing into the conversation. Leaning on one elbow, she finally surrendered the dessert container to him.
“Really?” His smile was one of delight, sending a strange jolt of awareness through her. From her chest to her belly to parts too long neglected to acknowledge.
While she hadn’t been much of a partygoer over the years, she had kept busy with work. Her passion for teaching followed her home like a stray puppy, one she welcomed and nurtured. That meant a lot of nights spent planning and grading, but her students were worth it. They, and her career, had become Aubrey’s whole life. Which meant dating had taken a back seat. She’d made some effort to date over the last ten years she and Vic had been apart, but not as much as he had. Nowhere near as much as he had.
“Hurry before I change my mind.” She offered him her spoon.
“I haven’t eaten one of these in ages.”
He polished off the remaining cannoli in two bites, licking a dollop of whipped cream from the spoon. Watching his tongue swipe the sweet cream from his upper lip shook her good sense from her head like a cup full of dice. She remembered how he’d lain waste to her with that tantalizing mouth...when he hadn’t been bossing her around with it.
He plucked the cherry from the container, still dripping with chocolate sauce, ate it, and then dangled the empty stem between them. Narrowing one eye, he asked, “Think I can still do it?”
“With the practice you’ve had over the last ten years?” She folded her arms and tried to appear not to care that he’d been with other women since her. She shouldn’t care. “I bet you can do it with your eyes closed.”
“I’ll take that bet.” He closed his eyes, dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, and popped the stem into his mouth. As he worked his jaw, she took advantage of the moment and soaked him in. His handsome face, the bad-boy scruff that had been absent when he’d dated her and the divot in his chin she’d always found unforgivably sexy.
He opened his eyes and caught her staring, his schoolboy grin as mischievous as the day he’d asked her out after class that first time. Then he produced the cherry stem between his teeth. He’d tied it in a knot with his tongue, which ushered in more memories of how good he’d been with that part of his anatomy when they’d been together.
He held the knotted stem between his index finger and thumb and fixed his gaze on hers. “Wanna do something crazy?”
Too late.
“Like what?” she heard herself ask. There was a rogue part of her chanting, “Do it, do it!” Entertaining that voice was as ill-advised as having a drink with Vic in the first place. That’s it. No more martinis.
“Like relive our past. The good part. The best part.”
She was already shaking her head.
“Hear me out, Aubrey with the auburn hair.” He grinned. She couldn’t help smiling at the nickname he’d sung loudly and obnoxiously whenever he’d passed her in the hallway on her way to Advanced English. His voice low and husky, he rumbled, “Spend the night with me. No talk about the past or the future. We’ll do what we’re best at doing, feel that sweet, sweet release we’re both aching for, and in the morning you can pretend it never happened. What d’ya say?”
“I say you’re crazy,” she breathed while a visual of him kissing her deeply, his hand beneath her bra, danced merrily in her brain. The worst part was that she wasn’t half as offended as she should be.
“Yeah, I am. But who cares?”
Why, oh, why was she considering his offer? She’d be insane to hop into bed with him again—certifiable. He somehow read her expression—or maybe her thoughts—and gave her the nudge that would seal her fate. After checking if anyone in the mostly empty bar was listening—they weren’t—he leaned close and dipped his voice into seductive territory.
“Remember how good we were together, Aub? I’ll deliver, mark my words. I’ll make it so good, you’ll forget your own name.”
She had to chuckle at his audacity, even as desire slid honey-smooth through her veins. It’d been a long time since anyone had delivered on half that promise. She knew from experience Vic’s suggestive tone wasn’t for show. Ten years hadn’t dulled the white-hot memories from when they were naked together.
“And then we go back to normal like nothing happened?” She put her hand to her throat and toyed with her necklace, hardly able to believe her own ears.
“Hand to God.” He raised a palm. “We’ll never speak of it again.”
