Chapter Twelve
Maisie
Warren’s gaze drops to my chest as he finishes his glass of wine, not even trying to be subtle. I figured he’d like it, but his reaction to seeing me for the first time was better than I imagined it’d be.
And truthfully, it felt nice to have him openly show his fondness of it. Even after years of being together, he always expressed how beautiful he thought I looked.
Meanwhile, I’ve been actively trying not to stare at his arms. The very ones Yani squeezed before I realized she wasn’t interested in him. He has the sleeves rolled to his elbows and the shirt is tight enough to make his biceps pop through the fabric if he’s not careful.
God, he looks delectable in all black.
Even his tie. He could wrap it around my wrists and then?—
Oh .
Where did that thought come from?
Nope, not going there .
I’m ovulating. That’s the only explanation why my body’s reacting to him.
And he’s familiar.
Of course my body recognizes his touch, as subtle as it is, but it doesn’t mean I want to jump into bed with him.
We can be friends without it turning intimate.
Yeah, divorced besties.
That’s definitely a thing.
Besides trying to keep my hormones in check, dinner with Warren has been magical. The romantic setting, the delicious food and wine, the amazing conversation about my favorite book—it’s been one of the most fun nights I’ve had in a while.
Warren makes it easy to talk about anything because he listens intently and wants to know everything I’m thinking about it. I’ve missed that.
It dawns on me that Hayes doesn’t know my favorite book nor has he ever asked me. For being in publishing, we don’t talk much about books besides his or the authors’ I’m representing.
“Oh my goodness, look at y’all!” JoJo gushes, walking toward us.
Warren stands and pulls her in for a hug. “That was a delicious meal.”
“Yes, it was so good,” I gush. “You’re gonna have to roll me out on a stretcher after all that food.”
“So glad y’all liked it.” She smiles wide, wrapping me in a hug next before I can get to my feet. “You look so beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“I hope y’all don’t mind…” JoJo says, looking up to no good. “But I made something super special for dessert.”
Yani returns and places two white round dishes on the table. Then she sets down two spoons and grins before leaving .
“Is that crème br?lée?” Warren asks.
“It is. I don’t make it often because it takes over six hours, but I wanted y’all to have some.”
“It smells incredible,” I say, leaning over to inhale it.
“I also have some strawberries comin’. And maybe one more thing,” she quickly adds. “Enjoy.”
She winks at Warren, and I can’t help wondering what else she’s up to.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had this,” I admit, grabbing one of the spoons and scooping a small amount.
“Oh my God…” I moan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as the rich and creamy vanilla custard hits my tongue.
“Probably one of the best things you’ll ever have in your mouth,” he teases, taking a bite at the same time as me, but his words have me choking.
“Warren!” I scold, swallowing.
“Well…was I wrong?”
“It is good.” I grin, taking another bite.
A moment later, Yani returns with a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries and then a violinist appears behind her.
“This is Francis.” She holds up a hand toward him. “If you have any requests, feel free to ask him.”
My mouth opens, unable to form words as he starts playing.
“I’m sorry about this,” Warren says above a whisper. “I told her not to overdo it.”
I can’t even be upset because it’s sweet.
“Do you wanna dance?” he asks, raising a brow.
“Here?”
He glances around, noting that we’re alone in a private room. “Why not?”
Good question .
“Okay, sure.”
Before I stand, Warren’s behind my chair, pulling it out for me. He offers his hand and I gladly accept it.
Warren mutters something to Francis. He nods and starts a new song.
He leads me to the other side of the table and pulls me into his chest. My fingers intertwine with his and my other hand rests on his chest.
“Is this Celine Dion?” I ask, recognizing the melody.
His gray eyes stare into mine and he nods. “You remember.”
“Our weddin’ song? Of course.”
“I listen to her a lot when I’m cookin’.”
“You do?” That surprises me considering he always had country music playing when we were together.
“Posey walked in while I had ‘My Heart Will Go On’ blastin’ and loves to gimme shit for it. When I let her name a couple of my chickens, she picked Jack and Rose just to fuck with me.”
My head falls back with laughter. “Considerin’ she has two goats named Batman and Robin, I’m not surprised.”
“Maybe tomorrow night I can introduce you to ’em. You’ll adore Kelly Cluckson.”
The smile on my face somehow gets wider. “Do I wanna ask how she got her name?”
“Nope, you do not.” He chuckles. “Or how my rooster, Chucky, got his from Bodie fallin’ on his ass after he tried stealin’ my eggs.”
The crease lines around his mouth have me staring at his lips and wondering if I remember the last time we kissed. You never think it’ll be your last, and yet, I can’t remember when it was or how it felt .
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” he asks, and I decide to be honest with him.
“Tryin’ to remember when our last kiss was and if I knew it would be.” My voice unexpectedly cracks at the end, and I try to cover it up with a cough, but he notices.
“It was the day you left after the holidays. January second. You had to get back to work. We fought most of the time, you were beggin’ me to move and said if I didn’t, then we might as well end things.
Your bags were packed and you stormed out of the trailer.
I was furious you gave me an ultimatum, but I couldn’t let you leave without kissin’ you.
So I rushed outside as you were throwin’ your suitcases in the trunk.
I pushed you against the door and kissed you. ”
His gaze lifts to the ceiling for a moment before finding mine again.
“That was the last time,” he whispers.
Tears well in the corners of my eyes, but before I can stop them, they fall down my cheeks.
“I remember that,” I choke out, the vivid memory now resurfacing. God, he looked so hurt when I drove away. “I think deep down I knew it’d be our last time.”
“I suspected it too,” he says softly.
I lean into his touch when his thumb brushes over my cheek to wipe away the tears. When my vision clears, I notice his eyes are glossy too.
Without exchanging another word, Warren pulls me in closer until my head rests on his chest and my arm wraps around him. His heart pounds against my cheek, and I wonder if he can feel mine beating rapidly too.
Warren and I dance for another few minutes before we decide to finish our desserts. The conversation shifts to something more light-hearted and once I’m physically unable to stuff any more food in my stomach, I tap out. Warren smirks, then steals the rest of my strawberries.
“You ready to go?” he asks when I groan at being this full.
“I’m gonna have to be cut outta this dress.”
He chuckles, pulls out my chair, and bends down to lift me.
“What’re you doin’?” I ask frantically, grabbing my clutch before wrapping my arms around his neck.
“You said earlier you needed to be rolled outta here, so I’m helpin’ ya out.”
“I didn’t mean literally , Warren. Put me down.”
“Too late. I like carryin’ you.” He winks and walks out of our private room.
“Everyone’s gonna see us!” I whisper-hiss.
“Sweetheart, the restaurant’s been closed for an hour. No one’s out here.”
I look around the main room and see he’s right.
How long have we been here?
JoJo’s at the hostess station, waiting and watching us with a devious grin.
“Thanks again, Aunt JoJo.”
“You kids have a good night…” she says, but I don’t miss the suggestive tone in her voice.
I give her a little wave of gratitude and then Warren’s walking us to his truck. He sets me down briefly to open the passenger side door before helping me climb inside.
“Good?” he asks after I buckle in.
Good ? Sure, if you consider the pit in my stomach good , then I’m freaking great.
“Yes, thank you.”
My thoughts are jumbled while he drives us to his house and I pretend to play with the music, not sure how to end our evening without breaking down. The conflicting feelings are becoming too much. I wish there were a clear vision of how this was going to play out.
Especially when it’s costing him his heart.
And mine.
Warren helps me out of his truck once again after he parks next to my car.
“Would it be okay if I hugged you good night?” he asks, almost nervously.
“Of course.” I reach for him and he smothers me in his big arms. He’s so warm and comforting.
To hell with it.
“Warren…” I breathe out his name.
One syllable is all it takes for him to read my mind.
“Are you su?—”
I cup his face, pulling him closer, and crush his mouth to mine.
My tongue breaches his lips, and I sink inside, seeking his warmth.
He lowers his hands to my ass, picks me up, and presses my back against the side of his truck.
His hips pin me in place as my legs tighten around his waist. A moan releases from deep in my throat when I feel his erection jab into my stomach.
This kiss is desperate, needy, and somehow gentle—it’s everything at once. I can’t keep up with the emotions bubbling inside me.
“Fuck, Maisie,” he drawls, sliding down my jawline. “I’m gonna cum in my pants if you don’t stop grindin’ against me.”
I hadn’t realized I was doing it.
“Sorry,” I say breathlessly, untangling my legs from his waist.
He helps set me down, both of us panting .
“Shit, I’m the one who’s sorry.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, causing some of the strands to stick up.
“Don’t be. I’m the one who kissed you.”
“Yeah, but I went overboard.”
“No, it was perfect.” I swipe a finger under my eye, wishing I’d worn waterproof mascara. “That was a much better last kiss. One I’ll never forget.”
My throat burns getting those last words out, but I had to say them.