She brought a whole new sense of adventure to life that I’d never expected.
That was how tonight at this restaurant had come about. I’d seen this place a dozen times on my way to work, but I’d never given much thought to it. One day, Lailah had dragged me in for lunch, and we’d discovered our place. It was quaint and cozy. The food was amazing—fresh and organic—and the chef always managed to think outside the box. We had become regulars from that moment on.
“Hey,” Lailah said, looking at my plate of braised pork loin with marked interest.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, you can have half,” I answered, not bothering to wait for the question I’d known she was about to ask.
Her face lit up with glee as she began to cut her chicken in half before setting it on my plate. “Can I have—”
“Yes, you can have half of my risotto as well. But I get half of those potatoes!” I added.
We started our normal ritual of halving everything on our plates and shuffling it around. Lailah could never decide on just one dish, so she tended to always want what was on mine as well. Since realizing this, I’d been more than happy to share—as long as I got half of hers.
I was a big guy. I couldn’t survive on half a plate of food.
Looking up, I found Grace watching us with doe eyes. Her lips were puckered into a little pout.
“What?”
“That’s adorable—and kind of weird at the same time,” she said.
“Shut it.” I grinned before stuffing a large piece of potato in my mouth.
Everyone soon finished their plates, and dessert was about to be served. Lailah and I had preselected this course, wanting it to be special and knowing many might try to go without.
“Pudding?” Grace laughed as the waiters set the dishes in front of everyone. “We’re having chocolate pudding for dessert?”
Lailah dipped her finger into the dark chocolate creaminess and brought it to her lips. “Yep, we sure are.”
Everyone chuckled as spoons were lifted, and people began eating.
“Oh my heavens,” my mom said from across the table after taking her first bite. “This is divine.”
And it was. It wasn’t the store-bought brand the hospital cafeteria stocked that had once brought two lonely people together years ago. We still loved our Snack Packs, especially in bed, but for tonight, we wanted something special, and the chef had given us just that.
Taking my first bite, I glanced over just in time to see my brother spoon-feeding his escort. Her tongue slithered out like a snake, the tip seductively caressing the silky chocolate. My brother looked on with a lustful dark expression.
Now, I was the one who wanted to hurl.
And my appetite was officially gone.
Lailah, having already finished her bowl, took a few bites from mine before everything was cleared off the table. As conversations ended, jackets and coats were returned, and everyone was bundling up for the cold weather outside.
We all headed slowly for the entrance. Lailah and I trailed behind, our joined hands swinging between us. As we reached the door, we paused to stand face-to-face.
“I guess this is where we say good-bye.”
“Not good-bye,” she corrected. “That’s the great thing about marriage—never having to say good-bye.”
“Then, what do we say?” I asked, grasping her hands in my own.
“See you later.” she winked, reminding me of the wisdom I’d once given her not so long ago.
“Okay.” I smiled. “See you later, Angel.”
She grinned, reaching up to briefly kiss my lips. My arm caught her waist and held her, deepening our once chaste kiss, until catcalls sounded around us.
“Come on, Jude. Save some for the wedding!” Marcus called out.
We pulled apart, and a smug grin plastered across my face as our foreheads touched.
“I think that’s your father’s way of saying that it’s time to go.” I chuckled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Cavanaugh.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
I watched her begin to walk away. Her fingers lingered, holding and grasping on mine, until we were finally forced to let go. The door swung open, and I felt the chill from outside hit my face as she and the rest of the crew staying at the hotel walked through it before heading down the street. My hands went to my pockets, seeking the warmth they’d lost when she left. I never noticed my brother still lingering in the corner.
“How about a celebratory drink? One final hurrah before the last nail gets pounded into that coffin of yours tomorrow.”
I turned to find him watching me, his dark eyes skeptical and leery.
“Where did your date go?” I asked, stepping toward the bar, figuring that was enough of an answer for him.
“She had to . . . work.”
“Hmm,” was all I said.
We settled into two stools and ordered—whiskey sour for Roman, Coke for me.