And yet, I was having dinner with her later.
That was either going to turn out to be a very good idea, or a very, very bad one.
****
Gretchen
Gabe reached across the console for my hand and drew my fingertips to his lips.
“I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring the dessert and wine. When you figure out what we’re having, let me know so I know whether to bring red or white.”
“I thought I’d make lasagna with meat sauce, if that’s okay?”
I’d decided to revisit my lasagna recipe. I hadn’t made it since I’d dropped it on Troy’s office floor while he was balls deep in his assistant. Tonight seemed like a good time to try to pair new emotions with what used to be a favorite dish of mine to make.
“My mother’s maiden name was Pomponio. I love lasagna—it was a Sunday night staple growing up.”
So much for that.
Okay, maybe tonight wasn’t the time to bring the lasagna back.
“An Italian mother’s cooking? That’s a lot of pressure to live up to. Maybe we should grill steaks or something.”
“You can’t dangle lasagna in front of me, then snatch it back. That’s just mean.”
That made me laugh out loud.
“Okay. Lasagna it is. I’ll make garlic bread, too.”
“My mouth is watering just thinking about dinner.” He squeezed my hand before releasing it with a wink. “Among other things.”
I bit my lower lip to suppress my smile as I reached for the door handle. He’d had his way with me more than a few times last night and this morning, and he still wanted more. How had I allowed myself to spend so much of my marriage feeling like chopped liver?
In Troy’s defense, after Jake was born, I wasn’t exactly the picture of sexy when he walked in the door at night. More often than not, I was exhausted and either in pajamas or yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt that probably had baby food, or worse, on it.
Of course, he didn’t do anything to try and alleviate my exhaustion. I guess it was easier to just find a younger, peppier woman than man up to his responsibilities.
Water under the bridge, I reminded myself. I refused to give my ex any more of my energy, and that included my thoughts. My attention was on the sexy man who’d given me orgasms—plural, just like he’d promised.
“I’ll see you tonight. Let me know if you need to change the time.”
“I won’t need to. I’ll be there at six.”
As I pulled on the handle, he said, “Hang on,” and hopped out the driver’s door to come around to the passenger side.
“Are you always this chivalrous?” I quipped as I took his hand and stepped down.
He pulled me closer and leaned down to utter in my ear, “I think I proved last night I can be far from chivalrous.”
Boy, did he.
I whispered back, “For the record, I’m not complaining, either way.”
I felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle.
“That’s good to know, sweetheart.”
Gabe’s arms came around me, and I closed my eyes as I melted against him and returned the hug, allowing myself to relish how good it felt being held by him.
