Perfectly Pink - An It's Always Been You Romance (Complete)

Chapter 26

"Dessert?"

Simon wondered if Mary meant here, at the restaurant, or if she had other intentions. Certain parts of his body leapt to attention at her sultry voice. One of which was his heart.

Behind Mary, the New York skyline had shifted from pink to purple to deep blue through the floor to ceiling windows of the steak house as they ate, drank and talked. Asked to wait for a half an hour before they had a table ready, having no reservation a sin in this city, Simon worried about disappointing Mary. Feared another episode from her like at the Empire State Building earlier. Her rebuff had hurt, and he didn't want a reason for her to leave.

Instead, she'd suggested they try another place else or wait at the bar, order a glass of wine, talk. Seems her apology earlier over her actions, something out of the ordinary for Mary, had been authentic. He'd felt the sincerity of her words. Believed them. Hated hearing her call herself a bitch.

The word sounded like an insult from her lips and he wanted to reprimand the person or persons who ever made her think her strength was a characteristic she should be ashamed of. The woman before him was passionate, knew what she wanted, wasn't afraid to go after it and suffered the wounds of disheartenment when she didn't get it. She had high standards, good taste and fiercely protected those around her. And he loved her for each of these qualities. And more.

"Can't hurt, can it?" Mary's eyes lit up and Simon's heart did, in fact, hurt. The under-used organ going into overdrive at the sight of her excitement at spending more time with him. She'd missed the 8pm train. With dessert, she might miss the 9. Part of him wanted to remind her she should get going if she were to make it home tonight. The other part never wanted her to leave.

"Wanna share?"

Everything? A life? A bed? "Simon says yes." Despite what he desired, it had to be done. "Mary, the time. If you miss this train, you'll arrive in Washington too late to safely get home." He'd rather her be safe if she couldn't be with him.

"Oh." She turned away and stared at her reflection in the window. Her pale face distorted by the bright lights of the city. When she spoke, her voice was clipped and low. "What if I don't want to go home?"

He reached across the table, placed his hand on hers, and stroked her warm skin with his thumb. "You can have whatever you want."

For a long moment she didn't move, frozen in indecision maybe. Simon waited. He was good at it now, stuck in a stasis himself for so long it had become second nature. Always waiting for Mary.

He felt on a precipice. If she stayed here in New York with him tonight, things would change. No longer was she the woman who blew into his life for a round of sex in the back room of the bar, or the library at a wedding. He'd spent time with her, learned her likes and dislikes, seen her on good days and bad, watched her care for her sister, survive the jabs of his brother. Been in her life, not on the sidelines.

Tonight, if Mary spent the night with him, it wouldn't be a hormone induced whim. They wouldn't be strangers.

If she stayed.

Slowly she turned her hand over under his, thread her fingers through his and found his eyes. "Anything I want?"

Excitement mixed with anticipation surged through his veins. This was what he wanted, more than... "Anything."

"I'm thinking the crème brûlée."

Simon couldn't stop the burst of laughter that erupted from his throat. During the two courses they'd already eaten, they'd laughed often, Simon appreciating Mary's dry wit. Tried to match her barbs, her quick retorts. She was faster, smarter, sharper, but he got a few good lines in. Between the droll comebacks and flirty innuendos, they'd also talked. Real conversation.