“I’m sorry I teased you earlier,” Hugo said, dunking a crab leg in a pool of sriracha sauce. His plate was as wide as his forearm and overflowing with a crazy array of items from the buffet. “About moving in together. I was just making sure you weren’t going to get too serious about me.”
Trixie was eating her third made-to-order Nutella dessert crepe. This one was topped with whipped cream and decorated with raspberry drizzle and powdered sugar. Her first two servings had included cinnamon-caramel ice cream, but this plate only had extra whipped cream. She hadn’t wanted to overdo it. It was the only thing she’d eaten from the buffet. Honestly, why eat anything else? She was thinking about ordering another one.
“You weren’t making sure.” She kept her gaze fixed on the crepe as she scooped out another spoonful of hazelnut-chocolate filling. “You meant what you said.”
“Well, maybe a little. At that moment. We’d just spent the night together and I was half-asleep. You were right to talk me down.” He pointed at his plate. “Would you like a bite of the Wagyu beef lasagna?”
“How do you know it’s Wagyu beef?”
“Everything’s labeled with tiny LED screens. Didn’t you notice?”
She pushed her plate away, suddenly queasy. “I went straight to the dessert table. I didn’t look at any screens.” The crepes had blinded her to anything else.
Why would he lie about wanting to move in together? Did he expect her to change her mind? Or did he just want to keep having sex with her, even if there was no future in it?
Stifling a groan, she put her hand over her stomach. “I need to take a walk.”
He dropped his fork and put his napkin down. “Good idea. I could use some air too.” He paused. “Unless you’d rather be alone.”
“Why would I rather be alone?”
“That wouldn’t be like you, would it?” The corner of his mouth twitched as he stood and came around to help her out of her chair. “I’ve always admired extroverted people.”
“Would you rather be alone?”
“Often,” he said, “but not now. Not when I could be with you.”
She stood and looked at her watch. Just past five. Sly and Cleo would certainly be going out on another date tonight, and this would finally do the trick. Cleo would let Sly seduce her, and soon he’d figure out how deep his feelings ran, how much he wanted from her. It might take a little time, but he’d get there. Hopefully Cleo wouldn’t suffer too much while Sly realized, to his surprise, that he did want to get married after all these years. But it would all pay off in the end.
Trixie could see it. She could feel it. It was like watching a favorite movie for the millionth time—she knew what was going to happen.
But when she looked at Hugo, she didn’t know anything.
Well, she knew he was wonderful. Although he’d never publicized the fact, he’d volunteered countless hours to helping abandoned animals or desperate humans who didn’t have the cash to pay for his services. Whenever Trixie went into the clinic, she’d seen how much his staff admired and adored him, even the lowest-paid vet techs, whom he tutored after hours if they wanted help with college or grad school. And his love for his nephew, Sly, showed how deeply he cared about family, even if he didn’t like to talk about it.
“Trixie?” Hugo came around the table and put an arm around her shoulders. Lowering his voice, he spoke gently in her ear. “Do you need a bathroom? You’re looking a little green.”
She nodded. “Too many crepes.”
He kissed her hair before leading her through the sea of bodies hunkered over their Wagyu beef and crab legs and fondue to the back of the restaurant.
Wonderful guy. Even if she discounted the skills in the bedroom, which she was trying not to think about as they might cloud her judgment.
Might. What a joke. Of course they clouded her judgment. Sex like last night—and that afternoon—had formed a Category 5 hurricane. If she was able to walk and talk at all right now, it was only because she was in the eye of the storm. When it struck again—she snuck a peek at his profile, heart racing with the thought of another landfall—she’d fall apart like a sandcastle in a tidal wave.
She used the bathroom, which had the automated toilets, soap, faucets, and paper towel dispensers that always confounded her, and returned to Hugo, who lounged against the wall outside looking like Cary Banderas again.
“You’re looking a little better now,” he said, smiling down at her.
Throwing her arms around him, she returned his smile. “You look pretty good yourself.”
“Maybe you just needed to get up for a minute.”
“Exercise is always good.”
He stroked her cheek. “Maybe in the morning we could drive out into the desert for a little hike before we catch the plane home.”
Home. She didn’t really want to go home yet. It was too soon.
“I was thinking of another kind of exercise,” she said. “Something we could do right now.”
Brow furrowing, he flushed. “You know, Trixie, I’m not as young as I used to be…”
“The pool. It has waterfalls and hot tubs and fire pits. I’ve got to see it in person.”
“You’re up for that?”
“I’m starting to think I’m up for anything,” she said.