Page 66 of Lovely Darkness

On the rare occasion that this captivating woman turns to her right and looks in our direction, I catch a glimpse of her bra. It’s also lavender. Lacy. Pretty. Sexy. And the fact that she’s showing it off in this way is intriguing and makes me stare.

She is unbothered by my gaze. Her eyes drift up to mine, then over to McKay, and she lifts up her glass and mouths the word, Want another? And somehow I hear her seductive whisper in my head.

Want another?

And it hits me in this moment that, like McKay, I’m not really gay either. Because I was content with Misha. I was never gonna marry her. I wasn’t gonna bring her to Old Home to live. But I liked her. I maybe even… loved her. In my own way.

I do want another Misha. And this time, I want to share her with McKay.

But I don’t respond to this woman’s offer and I don’t think McKay does either. She snaps her fingers at the bartender and points to us. There are a few moments of conversation, then the bartender makes three drinks, puts them on a tray, and heads our way. She follows him up the five stairs that lead to the small private area where we’re drinking.

“Mr. Boucher.” The bartender nods to me. “Mr. McKay.” He nods to McKay. “This is Miss Violet. She is a member of the Club.”

McKay and I stand up immediately, our Southern gentlemen training taking over by habit. We smile at her in turn. McKay bows a little. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Violet.” She offers her hand and McKay kisses her knuckles. If I was worried about him understanding how this place works, that worry would evaporate immediately. But I wasn’t worried.

Miss Violet smiles at him. Blushes just a little bit. Just enough to let us know she’s softer than she comes off and she understands how to appreciate a conservative, but flirty gesture.

Then she turns to me. “Pleasure,” I say, then take her hand and shake it gently. The way one does with a lady.

“Drinks,” the bartender says. He sets down the tray, bows a little in my direction, and then retreats. Leaving us alone.

“Thank you,” I say, reaching for a whiskey.

“You’re very welcome.” She smiles at me, then takes a drink and offers it to McKay. “Would you like one as well?”

McKay flashes his dimple and I almost chuckle. He likes her too, and this proves it. He doesn’t flash his dimple for just anyone. “I believe I would,” he says, accepting her offer.

She picks up the third glass and raises it. “To new friends.”

“May the new wear off and the old settle in,” I say.

She looks at me with a cocked head. “OK, then.” McKay gently clinks his glass against hers and when she clinks back, I can tell she’s slightly overwhelmed with the prospect of two men in front of her. So she stops the forward momentum to gather herself and ask a question. “Are you two staying at the hotel?”

“We are,” McKay says. “But not for the reasons you’re asking about.”

She chuckles. “Is that so.”

“I own this place,” I say. Might as well get it out there.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. And now I can see them very clearly—green, or blue, or amber, or all three. They are fucking spectacular and I don’t care if I stare into them for the rest of my life, I will never get over how mesmerizing they are. And how they capture me without even trying.

This is the moment, I think. If this turns into anything more than a dirty one-night stand, this is the moment I fall for her.

She sees it too. She’s probably used to it as well. She’s been living her whole life with those eyes. So she turns away, unsure if she wants to encourage my new fantasy or not, and instead focuses on McKay. “Do you own this place as well?”

McKay smirks at me, then redirects to Miss Violet. “What’s his is mine.”

“Really.” She takes a sip of her whiskey and eyes me. “How’s that work?”

“What’s mine is his, that’s all.”

“So you’re what, friends? Lovers?”

“Both,” McKay says.

“And you’re looking for…” She lets that sentence hang.

“You,” I say. “We’re looking for you.”