“She even what?” he asked her.
She stirred the pasta with the tongs, not looking at him.
“Nothing.” He didn’t think it was nothing, not by the way she avoided his glance. She finally looked up, and laughed at the look on his face. “Fine. She sort of dared me to hit on someone else. Later that same night.”
He tried not to let her see the wave of jealousy that hit him when she said that.
“Did you do it?” He shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t any of his business. Margot had been his boss then.
But he hated it when she nodded.
“I felt like I needed to do something to . . . get you out of my system.” She shrugged. “It didn’t work.”
“Oh?” He wouldn’t ask any more questions. He was glad Sydney’s stupid plan hadn’t worked, obviously, but he didn’t want to know the details.
“Yeah. He kissed me, outside the Barrel.” Great. She was telling him the details anyway. “But I felt nothing at all. So I turned around and went back inside.”
He couldn’t hide his relieved grin.
“Nothing at all, huh?” He took a sip of his wine. “That poor guy.”
He didn’t mean it, though. He didn’t feel sorry for that guy at all.
A few minutes later, Margot set a big bowl of pasta in front of him.
“You are a goddess, Margot Noble,” he said.
She laughed and sat down next to him and stuck a fork into her own pasta.
“You are easy to impress, Luke Williams.”
He shook his head.
“No. I’m not.”
He looked at her—hair piled on top of her head, her cheeks pink from the heat of the kitchen, that soft smile around her lips—and smiled.
They both dove into their pasta. When he was almost done, he thought of something he really should tell her.
“Avery knows. About that first night, I mean. I had no idea you two knew each other when I told her. But I’m sure she hasn’t told anyone.”
“That’s okay.” She laughed. “That does explain why she made it a point to tell me that the two of you were absolutely just friends.”
He pushed her robe to the side and put a hand on her thigh.
“She told me she thought you were jealous when you saw us together at dinner, but I didn’t believe her.”
She leaned closer to him.
“Oh, she was right.”
He couldn’t help himself from smiling at that.
“I can’t tell her that, I’ll never hear the end of it,” he said. “But I’m glad you told me.”
She smiled as he played with the sash of her robe.
“Oh, are you?”
He nodded, and moved his hand up higher.
“Mmmhmm.” He looked at her. “I don’t—quite—understand why you have clothes on right now.”
She shrugged. The neckline of her robe almost—but not quite—fell off her shoulders.
“Apparently, someone was concerned about me cooking in the nude. I was a little worried that meant he didn’t want to see me naked, but—”
He kissed her, hard, before she could finish that sentence. He pushed her legs apart and slid his fingers inside of her, and she gasped against his mouth.
“Do you need me to tell you how I feel about seeing you naked?” He untied her robe and stared down at her. “Do you need me to tell you how often I fantasized about just that, how clearly I remembered this mole, right here?” He licked that hollow between her breasts and sucked on the mole in the center. “Because I can, if you want. But also, that big bed of yours looked very enticing. I have a feeling we can have a lot of fun there.”
Margot stood up, leaving the robe behind.
“I’m not sure this has to be an either-or,” she said.
He followed her into the bedroom.
“You’re absolutely right. One question: Are you really as flexible as I’ve remembered? And if so . . .”
* * *
MARGOT WOKE UP EARLY the next morning. She could sense Luke’s presence in her bed, even though they weren’t touching. Her back was to him, but she could feel his warmth behind her. The sound of his regular breathing relaxed her. Even though she had no real idea what was next for them.
Was this just another one-night thing? Just to get each other out of their respective systems, so they could stop thinking about how it would be （fantastic） and wondering if the first time had been a fluke （absolutely not） and then go forth and forget about each other since they didn’t have to see each other every day anymore?