“Gogo?” I burst out laughing, leaning back in my chair. “Seriously?”
“I’m afraid so.” She looked at me, and her eyes were full of something good—wonder and warmth and affection.
My laughter died down and I found myself looking at her the same way. I loved that she could laugh at herself. If only things were different. I cleared my throat. “So Muffy said no to social work, huh?”
“Yes. She said, ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Margot. Thurber women go to Vassar and major in English.’” She shrugged. “So I did.”
“Were you happy with that decision?”
“I guess. I never really thought about it. I got my degree, came home, took a job working for my father…and that was that.”
“Did you like what you did?”
“Yes.” She thought for a moment. “A lot of what I did involved charity work and fundraising, and I liked knowing I was helping people.”
“How’d your parents take it when you left to start your own company?”
She chuckled. “They were kind of baffled by everything I did last year—I broke up with my boyfriend, took up yoga, quit working for my dad, started Shine PR…”
“Yoga?” I arched a brow at her.
She shook her head. “Didn’t take.”
“And the boyfriend?”
“Still gone. And he’ll stay that way.” Her dinner arrived and she laid her napkin across her lap.
“Why’s that? Let me guess—Muffy didn’t approve?”
She hesitated, her fork hovering above her planked whitefish. “That’s a long story. Let’s just say we’ve both moved on. I’m looking for something better.”
“Like what? What is Margot Thurber Lewiston looking for in a man?” I was teasing, but I was also curious. “A certain number of zeroes in his bank account? A Rolls Royce? A house in the Hamptons?”
“No,” she said. “I’m not totally shallow and pretentious, despite what you might think.”
“So?” I prodded. “What then?”
She put a forkful in her mouth and chewed as she thought. “I don’t know exactly,” she finally said. “I’m still figuring that out.”
“Fair enough.”
“I know I want to get married and have a family. Actually, I sort of thought I’d have one by now, but…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “But I was wrong.”
“Life’s full of surprises.” I tried not to sound bitter.
She glanced at me. “What about you? Think you’ll get married again?”
“No,” I said, and I meant it. “I know what I had. And it doesn’t happen twice.”
“Fair enough.”
We chatted a little more about the farm, about my family and hers, about places we’d traveled. She liked visiting big cities, and I preferred small towns, but we both agreed Mackinac Island was beautiful, perfect for a summer getaway. The more we talked, the easier I found it. Margot had definitely grown up in a different world, but she wasn’t a snob. And she was so damn pretty. Even the way she ate and drank was graceful. I found myself mesmerized by little things—the curve of her wrist, the straightness in her back, the arch of her foot. She had the kind of beauty that resides in the bones. The creamy skin, perfect lips, and big blue eyes were just a bonus. Then there was the body—the endless legs, the narrow waist, the small round breasts that sat high on her chest.
What did they look like? I hadn’t even gotten to see them last night. Were they even more pale than her face? And what about her nipples? Pale pink like cotton candy? Dark pink like a raspberry? Or maybe even deeper, like a cherry. As she chattered on about Mackinac Island fudge, my cock started to rise as I imagined licking my way up her vanilla skin to the cherries on top. I can practically feel them under my tongue. I can taste her.
God, why hadn’t I done it last night? Why had I raced to the finish like a fucking teenager afraid of being caught? Why hadn’t I taken my time with her? For fuck’s sake, I’d barely touched her anywhere. I dropped my eyes to the napkin on her lap.
“Jack?”
“What?” I looked up sharply to see her slightly amused face.
“Do you want another beer?” She nodded toward the bartender, who was standing there waiting.
“Oh, sorry.” I was completely torn. On one hand, I was having a nice time, and when was the last time I’d done something like this and enjoyed it? On the other, the longer I sat here with Margot, the more attracted I felt to her. “I shouldn’t.”
“Oh, come on. I will if you will. And then we can go our separate ways and you’ll be rid of me forever.”
I shook my head. “You really don’t like to be told no, do you?”
She grinned devilishly, her blue eyes lighting up.
Sometimes I wonder if it was that smile that did me in.
Twenty
Margot
I’d thought it would be awkward, pretending it had never happened. I’d thought it might be difficult, making conversation with him. I’d thought it would be safe, talking about his wife—I’d thought hearing about her would help me remember that he was off-limits.
But it was fun. And easy.