“If I did that, I’d say, ‘Good luck. You may need it.’”
She frowned but waited to respond until Mr. Hines had delivered their water glasses and promised to return shortly for their drink order. “Not all marriages are as hard as the relationships you and I have had,” she said when they were alone.
“I guess not. But I wouldn’t expect you to speak up for marriage. What if you’d married Derrick and he’d met Crystal after the wedding?”
“I’m lucky that didn’t happen.”
Deciding that he didn’t want to make this dinner about their failed love lives, Kyle grinned. “So maybe you should be celebrating tonight, too.”
“Maybe so,” she agreed, giving him a grudging smile in return. “Anyway, if you’d like, I’ll help you write something to say at the wedding.”
“You will?”
“Sure. I’m feeling bitter at the moment, too, but I’m fairly certain I can do better than ‘Good luck.’”
Since he’d tried several times to come up with something profound and had nothing to show for those efforts, he felt a great measure of relief. He’d been mentally ticking off the days, watching the wedding march closer without feeling any more prepared. “Hallelujah! I consider myself saved.”
“I’m not sure I’d say you’re saved,” she told him. “But there should be some overlap between writing songs and writing a few lines on love and commitment for a wedding. So we’ll see what I can come up with. Or we can write it together.”
When she looked up, he was reminded of another moment that had crackled with the same sort of energy. Last night, they’d turned off the TV and were saying good-night. But as they’d walked toward the hall, neither of them had seemed very eager to go to bed, despite how late it was. So they’d lingered outside her door, talking some more, and then she’d stood on tiptoe to give him a brief hug and thank him for letting her stay. Only it wasn’t the natural kind of embrace he received so often from his other friends. As soon as she came up against him, he’d felt the strong desire to slide his hands down her back. And he got the impression she’d felt something she hadn’t expected, too, because she quickly backed away.
After that, they couldn’t escape into their rooms fast enough.
It’d been awkward. But it wasn’t the awkwardness that had kept him awake most of the night. He’d been too aware of the fact that she was just down the hall. He’d stared at his ceiling for hours, listening for any sound of her movements while trying to keep the fantasy of removing her clothes out of his head.
Under the pretext of focusing on the menu, he pulled his gaze away. “I’ll contribute what I can.”
She studied her menu. “So what are you hungry for?”
He was hungry for her. Being with Lourdes like this—out, as though they were on some sort of date—seemed to be messing with his mind. And there was something else that occurred to him. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that he could only get over Olivia after Lourdes had entered his life...
“Damn it.”
“What’d you say?” she asked in confusion.
He cleared his throat. “Nothing. Disregard that. I’m having the cowboy steak.” He looked up. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“No, thanks. But feel free to have a drink or two yourself. I could drive, if necessary.”
“I don’t need any alcohol tonight.” He figured he shouldn’t drink for the next three months—until Lourdes was gone and he was no longer face-to-face with the temptation to wreck his life just when he was regaining control of it.
*
Lourdes had salmon with capers and dill sauce, which was delicious. So was the chocolate soufflé they shared for dessert.