“I can’t wait.” She pressed into his side, taking his hand. “Sounds amazing.”
“It really is.”
Lauren and Maren said quick goodbyes, agreeing to meet up later in the evening at the party. Kirk’s luxury car was parked in the garage below the building and he held Maren’s hand in a possessive but thoughtfully protective way throughout the ride down in the elevator. He opened her passenger door and she slid in, his hand lightly on her back to nudge her into the seat. The leather smelled new and exorbitantly expensive. Maren ran her fingers along the perfect seams, careful not to scratch any part of the vehicle. Kirk’s car was completely without blemish, much like the man who drove it. Maren didn’t want to ruin that.
Demure was a short drive as far as city standards were concerned. Kirk opted for valet parking as usual and kept his guiding hand on the small of Maren’s back when they entered the establishment. The décor was just as opulent as Kirk’s car. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling with teardrop tiers of sparkling crystals, like a wedding cake hung upside-down. The booths were soft, plum colored velvet with high backs. Small candelabras were centered on the white-clothed tables, their wicks flickering in a dance of golden light. Additional seating in the middle of the restaurant maintained the private feel with generously spaced tables and tall, wingback chairs covered in brocade fabrics. It looked like something out of a movie, which fit with everything about Kirk and Maren’s relationship thus far.
Their waiter wore a white napkin draped over his arm and when he came to the table, Kirk rattled off their selection with finesse. Maren didn’t understand half of what he’d said—much of the menu wasn’t even in English—but she trusted his judgment. If it was anything like the sparkling ice wine he’d selected upon arrival, she knew she would fall in love with each bite.
When the waiter retreated and they were left alone in their booth, Kirk slid his hand across the table. Maren pulled hers from its folded position in her lap and slipped it into Kirk’s.
“You look stunning, Maren. Out-of-a-fairytale gorgeous.” The way he spoke her name made it sound so beautiful, like it was prettier than it actually was. Grady had always teased her that she had been named after a female horse, and that her stubborn, tenacious attitude only bolstered that. But Kirk uttered it in a way Maren had never heard before and she felt something each time he said it.
“Thank you.” Maren reached out and grasped the fluted glass with her free hand. The bubbles tickled her nose as she drew it up to her lips. When she swallowed, she felt warmth slide into her muscles, instantly relaxing her frame. She groaned a little from the feeling. “This is so good.”
“It’s my family’s blend.”
“Your family makes wine?” Maren didn’t know why this information surprised her.
“We dabble a little.”
“Is there anything you don’t do?”
Kirk thought on this for a while, his hand lifted to his chin, a posture that was more for show than anything. He chuckled when he concluded, “We pretty much do it all.”
“Sounds like.”
Maren’s stomach felt weightless each time she looked at his handsome face. The way he regarded her this night was different from other nights, like a tangible shift had taken place between them. It was what Maren had been hoping for all year, but now that she stood at this threshold, she became anxious at the thought of what could happen next.
“You really are going to love the food here, Maren. It’s completely decadent and unlike anything served elsewhere.”
“I can’t wait,” she said with a returned smile.
Kirk’s hand gave hers a light squeeze. “I love how adventurous you are. I promise I won’t lead you astray.”
Maren believed that, for the most part. They had known each other long enough for a solid trust to form. He’d been nothing but a gentleman in all of their interactions. Maren let her guard down with Kirk easily because he’d given her no reason not to.
When their dinner arrived at the table thirty minutes later, Maren was shown to be right once again. While she couldn’t get over the texture of the oysters or the slimy way they sloshed in her mouth, the flavor wasn’t bad and bordered on enjoyable. But the entrée—eight ounces of rare, cut-with-a-fork filet mignon covered in a ginger sauce and placed on a pile of wasabi mashed potatoes—was unlike anything she had ever eaten. Maren had consumed plenty of steak and potatoes in her life, but this was an entirely different level of food. This was a taste bud experience. She had to keep her eyes from rolling back with each bite.
Kirk sensed her appreciation. “Glad to see you’re enjoying it.” He nudged his fork toward her plate, which was nearly empty.
“Are you kidding me? Enjoy doesn’t even begin to describe it. This food is so good I’m starting to get teary-eyed.”
It was true. Maren almost felt like weeping.
Kirk’s shoulders lifted from a laugh. “I knew you’d love this place. The best in the city for the most beautiful woman in the city.”
Maren couldn’t contain the blush that crept onto her face. Her neck felt hot with a flush. Maybe a bit from the drink, but mostly from his words.
Kirk glanced to his phone on the table and his smile fell slightly. “If we want to make the party, we should head out soon.”
“And skip dessert?” If dinner had been this amazing, she could only imagine what the dessert menu could offer.
Kirk laughed. “We can stay for dessert if you like.” The way he looked at her made Maren’s entire body buzz.
“I need dessert. The party can absolutely wait.”
Their lips were connected even before Maren could pull the key out of her clutch purse to unlock the apartment. Her face burrowed into Kirk’s neck which smelled musky and masculine, like testosterone all bottled up.
Fumbling, she managed to unlock the door. They tumbled into the room.
“Maren,” Kirk groaned against her cheek. He walked her through the apartment, all while Maren shuffled back with his guiding movements. She knew where they were headed, even with her eyes closed from their constant kiss.
When the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress and buckled there, Maren tensed. But she wanted this. She had thought about it many times, even more so recently. Kirk was the type of man that was easy to desire, from the way he kissed her to the way he looked at her, full of adoration and wonder. And he offered Maren the experiences she had always craved. The ones she could only fantasize about from her country home. In a word, their relationship was extravagant. Surely everything between them would be, too.
“You okay?” Kirk muttered the words against Maren’s lips. She just nodded. “You sure?”
The moment of hesitation should’ve clued Maren in, but she shoved it down, ignoring the vision that flashed across her mind, the one that for the most fleeting moment, imagined Kirk’s hands on her cheek to be the firm and calloused ones of her beloved neighbor boy.
“What is it, Maren?”
“Nothing.” Maren leaned in to push her lips to Kirk’s, but she felt his composure stiffen. “I’m fine.”
“You certain about that?”
“Absolutely.”