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We spent the rest of the night in bed talking, getting out only for me to make us “whatever you have in the fridge” sandwiches. I got sidetracked when Holden bent me over the kitchen table, but it had been an incredibly welcome interruption.
What I had thought was going to be the worst night of my life had turned out to be better than I could have dreamed.
36
Istood back, staring at the table with my hands planted on my hips, head tilted as I considered how I’d set it. Something was still off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what wasn’t working. Maybe if I moved the centerpiece a little more to the left so it wasn’t perfectly centered? Or I could add a candle...
“Sutton, the table looks fine,” Holden reassured me, pulling me into his arms for a hug and planting a kiss on the top of my head.
We’d been together officially for three weeks now, and I still felt butterflies every time I felt his arms around me. Unfortunately, the butterflies this time couldn’t smother the nervous fluttering in my stomach about tonight’s dinner.
“I don’t want it to be fine,” I whined, leaning out of his embrace to adjust a place setting. “I want it to be perfect.”
“Cam and Paul aren’t going to be judging the table, baby.” He reached out to still my busy hand. “They’re good people, and our friends.”
“I know, I know. It’s just that this is our first real thing as a couple, you know? Plus, I’m sure Cam told him about her history with Macon and Sissy, and I don’t want him to think I’m anything like her,” I explained, letting him lead me away from the table toward the couch. He placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me onto the couch. “Where are you going?”
“To pour you a glass of wine.” I watched him walk to the small wine fridge built into the island.
“I don’t think a glass of wine is a good...oh, is that the chardonnay from France your client sent you as a thank you for being the world’s best contract attorney?”
“It is.” He held up the bottle while reaching for two wine glasses. “But if you think it’s a bad idea...”
“No, no, one glass will probably be fine. But just a small one.”
Holden filled the glasses and brought the drinks to the couch, taking a seat next to me. I promptly took the glass with more wine. Holden arched a brow but was smart enough not to say anything.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I’m such a wreck.” I twirled the stem between my fingers. “My usual hosting plans involve ordering out and discount wine, usually from a box.”
Maxine appreciated a good deal on wine as much as I did, so it worked out that she was my most frequent — okay, only — guest.
“I love your usual hosting. I still don’t know why you insisted we have this thing at my place.” Bless his heart, the man meant it too.
“Uh, because you have a housekeeper, a dining room table that doesn’t look like you got it at a garage sale, and a matching set of dishes that probably aren’t slowly poisoning you with their suspicious plastic material.” I thought they were very good reasons to host the dinner here.
When Cam had said she and her husband were going to spend a weekend in Savannah while her in-laws were in town visiting the kids, Holden suggested we make dinner plans with them.
We’d asked if they wanted to eat out or have dinner at Holden’s place. Cam had chosen Holden’s place, because she’s “a nosey bitch.” I had always thought she and Max would get along well but that comment had cemented my belief. I’d loved the idea when he suggested it, but the closer the dinner got, the more thoroughly my excitement had been replaced by nerves.
I knew that I was placing way too much importance on tonight, but I had somehow convinced myself that this dinner was a litmus test for our relationship. Apparently, I still had some lingering doubts — maybe Holden had been suffering from some type of temporary insanity the night of the wedding, and once the fog cleared, he would remember how far out of my league he was.
“I love your place,” he said. “It feels like someone actually lives there.” I knew he meant it, too. We rarely spent time in his apartment, despite the fact that it was much more spacious and basically nicer in every single way. “And your oversized rats are great ice-breakers.”
“They’re not rats!” I swatted him lightly with my free hand. “And you love them. I saw you slipping them extra treats the other night.”
“I just wanted them to stop making so much noise. They were ruining the mood.”
“Whatever you say,” I mumbled, taking a sip from my glass. “Oh wow, this is insane. There’s no burn at all. You could drink this stuff like water. Listen, you’re going to have to keep doing work for this client after you leave the firm.”
Holden laughed, taking a drink from his own glass. “I’ll see what I can do.”
A chime from the screen by the door had those pesky butterflies returning in full force. I threw back the small amount of wine left in my glass, not wanting to waste a single drop.
“Relax.” Holden placed a kiss on my cheek as he rose from his spot, taking both our glasses.
“I’m cool as a cucumber. Where did that expression even come from?” I asked, getting up and making my way to the door to buzz them up. “I’ve never picked up a cucumber and thought ‘well, this is cool.’ Or, like, ‘boy, this cucumber really has it all together, it’s totally calm.’
Holden had moved to stand beside me at the door, slipping his hand into mine and giving it a squeeze.
