Maybe This Time: Vegas Nights by Christina C. Jones

Author:Christina C. Jones [Jones, Christina C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Warm Hues Creative
Published: 2021-03-10T18:30:00+00:00

Six

Beautiful.

It wasn’t as if that was some new development or something, but… damn.

She was completely dressed down – just the standard athleisure she’d normally wear for our weekly dinners together. Hair in a ponytail, face scrubbed clean of everything, baring the freckles that were an uncommon feature on her deep brown skin – one I’d always been particularly fond of.

And that damn smile of hers.

Exquisite.

And she was generous with it too, laughing along with Savory – a show that paired her favorite chef, Savion, with her favorite pop culture/gossip personality, Arizona. We had it pulled up on the kitchen screen to watch together while we cooked, but I’d given up after one too many times of getting my hand popped for doing something incorrectly.

Now I was just watching Desiree.

At the next commercial break, she turned to me, wine in hand, to smirk. “How does let’s make dinner together always, inevitably, turn into me cooking for you?” she asked, taking a sip.

From my seat at the counter, I shrugged. “I’m never doing anything right, according to you.”

“According to food chemistry, actually,” she countered, laughing. “I just find it funny how, we’ve been doing this for… what, like three or four years now? The shows have changed, but you… still can’t cook worth a damn. How does that work, Trace?”

“I don’t question my blessings,” I told her, picking up my glass. “I just appreciate the fact that a sexy ass woman is making sure I get fed tonight.”

The compliment made her smile… momentarily. I clocked the exact point when her expression shifted from flattered to thoughtful, then curious. She put her wine down, crossing her arms as she met my gaze.

“Tell me the truth…” she started, her words uncharacteristically measured, like whatever was on her mind made her nervous.

I leaned across the counter a bit. “Don’t I always? Lying to each other isn’t a thing we do.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “Well, funny you should say that, considering your admission over the last few days that you’ve been thinking about me as more than a friend.”

Damn.

“Touché.”

“Mmmhmm,” she smirked. “So… what I want to know is… how long have I been the sexy ass woman making sure you get fed, and not just… Des?”

I blew out a sigh. “Damn. That’s… tough to answer.”

“You’re a tough guy. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Except, it is,” I countered. “I don’t know any sort of exact moment where something shifted, to be able to give you a direct answer to that.”

“Try. Was it before the divorce, or after?”

“Definitely after.”

“The next day? A week later? Six months later?”

“Longer than that.”

“A year later? Three months ago? Last week?”

“Really, Desiree?” I asked, chuckling, but she seemed decidedly less amused.

“Yes, really. Because it feels…” she sighed, turning to cast her eyes in the direction of the TV, but not actually looking at it. “It feels like I’ve just been dropped into this new role without any warning, and I’m expected to just… adapt. Like this relationship was already happening without me knowing, and I have to catch up.

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