If only she didn’t enjoy it so much, she’d complain to him about the blatant PDA. But affection had been yet another thing missing from her life, like stability, like safety. Murmuring something about greeting an acquaintance, he pressed a kiss to her throat, and she flushed as he left, noting Miranda Thatcher’s avid gaze had taken in the show.
But her embarrassment receded as Jojo clutched her arm. “Why is he here?”
Following the direction of the other woman’s stare, she saw Con Montgomery, standing with another couple of men. “I have no idea,” she said. “That’s Audra’s brother.”
“I know,” Jojo muttered. “We met yesterday.”
“Oh.” Baffled by the other woman’s odd reaction, she frowned. “Did he say something to you?”
“He didn’t need to,” Alec’s sister muttered again. Then the man in question looked over, his sights seeming to focus on Jojo. As he began making his way toward the head table, she disappeared.
Interesting. But before Lilly could puzzle it out, Alec was back and he held up a skewered shrimp to her mouth. “You’ll like this,” he said. “It’s marinated in lime and hot off the grill.”
It was nothing, she told herself, a small courtesy only, but opening her mouth so he could feed her felt almost unbearably intimate. She recalled him giving her chocolate on the first night in his bed, the taste of it inextricably linked to her memory of him also serving up pleasure. She wondered if this was a practiced move of his, something he was well aware would make a woman think of other intimacies.
Yes. Practiced.
A smile curved the corners of his mouth as she chewed. “What’s that furious-kitten glare for, sugar?”
Swallowing, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You—”
He blotted the corner of her mouth with a cocktail napkin, and then lifted his brows, all innocence. “Me?”
Lilly glanced over to see Miranda watching them and she dropped her arms, changing the subject to something less volatile. “Do you know what Audra’s brother is doing here?”
“One of the other guest ran into him in the sauna—knows him from college, a country club? I don’t know. He asked my dad if Con could tag along and of course he said yes.”
“Con wouldn’t join a country club to save his life,” Lilly said. “Much too conventional.”
Miranda signaled it was time for them to take their seats, and as the front table did as ordered, the others followed suit. Servers swarmed the tables with delectable fare and delicious wines, but Lilly couldn’t seem to separate the courses in her mind or really even absorb the flavors of the different foods. With Alec beside her, his every gesture, word, look became the meal she would remember.
Under the candlelight and amidst the happy laughter, Lilly felt herself creeping closer to the edge of a high, lethally dangerous cliff.
“Here,” Alec said at the end of the meal, passing her the cream for the coffee a server had just poured into her cup.
Surprised, she accepted it, but gave him a look. “You know how I take my coffee?”
“Easy stuff,” he scoffed, smiling. “Ask me if I know the size of your underwear.”
She gave him a stern look. “Behave. I can still tell your mother about the Buster scare.”
“But I don’t want to behave,” he said, his smile turning roguish. “Not with you.” His head bent and he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. “Lilly,” he whispered, looking up into her eyes.
“What?” Without thinking, her hand went to his hair and she toyed with the silken layers. “What is it?”
He held still while she petted him, as if afraid she’d stop. “I—”
A musical fanfare interrupted him. A band was set up on the terrace outside and a man had come into the room from there, a wireless mic in hand. Vic Thatcher’s brother, prepared to deliver the first toast.
Many came after, a chain of approbation that left the anniversary couple smiling. Miranda blotted a tear here and there.
Then it was dance time, the band flowing from rock standards to bluesy jazz, and guests wandered out to the terrace to dance. More fog had crept in tonight, but the outdoor heaters and flickering candles kept it at bay. Lilly found herself wrapped in Alec’s arms, and they swayed together to some old tune that made her think of black-and-white movies and the kind of love that survived wartime separation and bouts of tap-dancing. She smiled against his shoulder, wondering what Alec would think of the observation.
“It could always be like this,” he said against her temple.
Lilly’s body lurched. But Alec kept strong hold of her. “Lilly. Calm down.”
No, no, she wouldn’t calm down. Dangling such a dream in front of her face wasn’t fair.
“One baby step,” she said, through clenched teeth. “You said you wouldn’t ask for more. You promised.”
He took in a quick breath, as if preparing to argue, then he subsided again, one hand caressing a circle between her shoulder blades. “Admit it’s nice like this,” he said.
“It’s nice like this,” she said, ignoring the prick of tears at the corners of her eyes. She closed them and drew in the scents of night, trying to regain at least a portion of peace she’d felt moments before.
The song ended, and Alec led her back inside, claiming she needed more champagne. As they approached their table, her gaze caught on a figure lurking by the exit. Her heart jolted, and then settled to a low thrum, as she confirmed that yes, it was him, in a ragged pair of jeans, and a denim jacket over a black T-shirt.
The other shoe had dropped, she thought with some relief, because she’d been waiting for it all along, hadn’t she?
Alec strolled to the bar for champagne and
