Apart from their rendezvous at his hotel last week, this was the first time when Seth didn’t have to pretend—to himself, or to Brooke—that they were there for any reason other than being in each other’s company.
He watched across the table as Brooke dug back into her steak, smiling at her enthusiasm before he tucked back into his own meal. They’d both opted for the steak frites. A caloric nightmare that was worth every single gram of fat.
“So what are you going to tell your sister about the success of her little matchmaking plan?” Brooke asked.
“I’m not,” he grumbled.
“Oh, come on. You’re not going to let her know that she was at least a little bit successful?”
“I’ve got you sitting across the dinner table from me giving me sexy eyes. I’d say that she was a lot successful,” he said, holding her gaze.
Brooke’s eyes narrowed playfully. “You’re giving me sexy eyes back, Mr. Tyler.”
“Because I want you,” he said bluntly, setting his knife and fork on the plate and leaning forward slightly so he could lower his voice. “As much as I’m enjoying this steak, as perfect as this wine is, nothing tastes as good as you.”
Her cheeks colored. “Seth.”
“Tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he said, reaching out and prying her hand away from where it fiddled with her cocktail glass. He stroked his thumb along her palm. “Tell me you haven’t thought about how we were together.”
“Mostly I thought about after,” she said a little glumly. “About how I took something pretty fantastic and turned it ugly.”
“That morning wasn’t all your fault,” he said. “I could have handled things . . . better.”
She smiled. “That’s true. For a man who runs a billion-dollar business, you certainly don’t have a way with words.”
“No. I don’t,” he admitted. “But I’m trying.”
You’re worth trying for.
Fuck. The woman was turning him into a drippy mess.
“Well, you’re doing quite well right now,” she teased softly. “Although if you keep looking at me like that, we’re never going to make it to dessert, and I’ve seen some chocolate decadence going around that looks really good.”
Seth groaned. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to tell a man that sex with him rates second to chocolate?”
Brooke opened her mouth to retort, but before she could (hopefully) contradict him, a shadow appeared over their table.
Seth glanced up, expecting to see their server.
“Nadia.” Seth’s hand jerked back so quickly from Brooke’s that he nearly knocked her water glass over in the process.
Holy mother fucking hell. Had he somehow summoned her here?
It was his ex-girlfriend who reached out to calmly steady the teetering glass. “Hello, Seth,” she said calmly. “It’s nice to see you.”
He forced himself to meet the familiar brown eyes of his ex. She was as exotically beautiful as he remembered. Her mother was Korean, her father Russian, and their only daughter was stunning.
And she knew it. She’d always known it.
A libel attorney, she was as smart and ambitious as she was gorgeous, and he’d found the combination intoxicating.
Hell, he’d found it a lot more than that. He’d been ready to put a ring on it.
But seeing her now, looking down at him in exactly the same way she had a year ago, her smile slightly mocking, her eyes completely cold, Seth realized for the first time that perhaps he’d dodged a bullet when she’d said no.
Would he have been content with Nadia as his wife?
Probably.
But happy . . .? He studied her, from her shining dark hair down to her dark red manicure all the way down to the black Louboutin pumps she favored. No. He wouldn’t have been happy.
And he was no longer interested in letting her look down on him.
He stood and pecked her cheek, feeling . . . nothing.
Not regret, or sadness, or relief. Only blankness.
She smiled her usual cool smile. It wasn’t that Nadia didn’t feel. It wasn’t that she was an ice princess. He’d seen her get wildly passionate about some of her cases. It was just that she’d never been passionate about him.
Her eyes flicked over him. “You look good.”
“You too,” he said automatically.
Nadia turned toward Brooke and extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Nadia.”
“Brooke Baldwin.”
Nadia rarely bothered with small talk with people whose names she didn’t recognize, and she turned back to Seth. “I thought you didn’t like this place.”
He frowned. “I like it.”
“You always said that it was too far downtown.”
“Doesn’t mean that I didn’t like it.”
Nadia’s brown eyes narrowed before she shrugged. “So how are you?”
“I’m good,” he said.
Only after the words were out did he realize how inadequate they were.
He was better than good. He was better than he’d been in a long time, all because he was more alive than he’d ever felt. It was like some sort of damned movie where the character didn’t even know he was half whole until he met that one person who completed him.
Or some shit like that.
“And you?” he asked politely.