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“I could go for a bite,” she said then added, “I left the house without eating. I was in a hurry.”
He breathed out a chuckle. “Can’t imagine why you would be.” He winked at her. “Me too.” Then he put his hand out. “Give me your keys, I’ll park your car.” He reached in his pocket and handed his to her. “Go get in my truck.” With his hand out, he saw her staring at him, lost in her head, and he leaned down and pressed a kiss firmly to her lips.
After she dropped the keys into his hand, she watched him walk to her car. She should feel guilty, should feel something, but she didn’t. All she felt was impatient to have his company again. She didn’t move to his truck until he climbed behind the wheel of her car. Pulling the door open, she took a second because his scent wafted out to her. If only she could bottle it. So many times she’d talked to him while he was in his truck, and now, here she was. She looked at everything; it was just a truck, but it was his truck. She didn’t let herself think about his wife sitting where she settled. She only thought of him, them, and how a simple game had brought them together. Some would call it luck. She thought it was more fate.
Gage took a few extra minutes in Tilly’s car than necessary. Not only was the soft scent of her lingering in the small space, but it was hers. He looked around, saw the crumpled up napkin in the cup holder, wondering what it was from. A candle shaped air freshener hung from the rearview mirror, a hair clip latched the small string. He looked between his legs to the tan leather. His mind drifting to how many times her husband sat in that seat, Tilly at his side. Gage’s eyes coasted to the passenger seat. The relaxed knot in his gut began to twist. But before Gage could feel the tug of it, he shut the car off, pulled the keys from the ignition and made his way toward his truck.
They chose a small cafe that both had passed on their way in. It was lunch, a simple task most did everyday, but to them, it was more than that. Small smiles, lingering eyes and light conversation held them through their meal.
“Can I get you anything else?” The waitress asked, eyes on Gage.
Gage looked at Tilly and raised his brows silently asking if she wanted anything else.
Tilly glanced at the waitress, who had been eyeing Gage since they entered, chuckled and met Gage’s eyes. “I’m good, though I could be persuaded to split a slice of pie.”
Gage winked at Tilly and without asking her, ordered a slice of cherry crumb pie, knowing it was her favorite. “Saw a huge nursery on the way in, wanna check it out?”
Tilly didn’t answer him; she was still on him ordering her favorite pie. He remembered. Her husband never remembered, anything. One conversation, weeks ago, and Gage remembered. “You ordered cherry pie.”
Gage drew his brows together, confused, he asked. “I thought that was your favorite.” He glanced around the small space looking for their waitress. “We can order something else.”
Her heart rolled in her chest. Small gestures, she never realized how impacting they could be. She reached for his hand, his focus turning back to her. “It is my favorite.”
It was the look in her eyes that had him not moving the conversation any farther. He didn’t need to ask, he saw right through her. It was something her husband didn’t do anymore. Before he had a chance to hold it back, Gage looked to their connected hands and grumbled lowly. “Asshole.” She didn’t respond.
The waitress returned, dropping the plate in the center of the table with a thud, separating them. “You didn’t say whether you wanted whipped cream or not…” Her focus was only on Gage, “So I made the call.” She didn’t hide her interest when she added, “Everything tastes better with whipped cream.”
“Shit doesn’t.” Tilly responded, causing the waitress to look at her for the first time since they entered the cafe. Tilly dropped her head on her hand, staring at the waitress and asked sweetly, “Or does it?”
The waitress had no comment, even rolled her eyes, before looking back at Gage and offering, “Enjoy.”
“She’d like to put whipped cream on you,” Tilly said, watching the waitress walk away before returning her gaze to a grinning Gage. Fuck, she wanted to put whipped cream on him and lick it off, every drop. Huskily, she added, “I get the feeling that happens to you a lot.”
“For one, I fucking hate whipped cream in the bedroom. Why would anyone wanna mask the flavor of their partner?” He winked and added, “Two, yeah, I do.” Gage shrugged.
She felt those words; they went right between her legs. Acting on what she was feeling, Tilly scooped up some whipped cream, held his stare and said, “We’re not in the bedroom.” Before she licked the cream off her fork.
Gage’s cock twitched watching Tilly lick the white cream off the fork. He cracked his neck from side to side and took a deep breath. “Jesus, Till. Stop that shit.”
She looked down, felt the heat creep up her neck, but she was smiling. This time, it was pie she scooped up. Lifting her gaze, she asked, “You’ve actually used whipped cream in the bedroom?”
Gage reached for his fork, eyes to the pie, digging into the cherries. “Who hasn’t?” Then with his eyes to hers, he placed the heavy piece in his mouth.
She couldn’t pull her eyes from his mouth. She wanted to kiss him right then, tasting the pie and him. Swallowing became difficult, so her voice was a bit rough when she said, “I haven’t.”
Gage drew his brows together and cocked his head. “Really?” he asked.
Tilly shrugged. “Priorities. I’m not one.”
Their eyes were connected when Gage told her, “Maybe one day, I can help you with that.”
Like a wave, lust rolled over her. “Maybe, but you make a good point. You taste so good already, why mask it.”
“Exactly.” Gage winked at Tilly before moving in for another bite.
_______________
Gage found he was constantly looking at his watch, counting down the hours they had left, which consisted of two. They’d been walking around the nursery for almost an hour and a half. Closely looking at the flowers, taking moments to stop and chat. Even stealing kisses in the aisles. It was when Gage was looking at the different variety of soils that he caught Tilly out of the corner of his eye. She was talking with a worker, her face bright and carefree. The way her body moved, the small smiles she was throwing at Trevor had a burning sensation crawling up Gage’s chest. It was the beauty of her, all of it. One that Gage knew he could get used to. Imagined waking up to it everyday. That smile.
