Page 14 of It's a Widow Thing

No.

Not that.

Do not say that. Say something else. Anything.

There was no obvious riff, only uncomfortable silence.Do something.Dessert was nothing more than crumbs on the plate and he’d be damned if he was going to start the dishes. “Why don’t we take our wine to the living room? You like books, don’t you? I have some very cool first editions on my library shelves.”

She cocked an eyebrow and narrowed her stare, but the pout of her lower lip told him that she could be convinced to stay a while longer. “I noticed your collection when I arrived. But if you offer to show me your etchings, I’m out of here.”

“Don’t worry. I’m far from being an artist.”

She took her glass and wandered over to the bookshelves, tilting her hip in her curve-loving skirt. Squats, lunges, Zumba—however she got that ass, he wanted to splay both of his hands across it and extol its virtues. He wanted to sing a song to it. To her. Even when he had zero musical ability.

Her fingers lingered on several spines of his book collection. His pulse shifted into overdrive as he wondered what might come next between them, but then he remembered the things his doctor had said about remaining calm. How was he supposed to do that and impress Sabrina? His heart was going to have to sort this out—because he wanted to tip the scales in his favor, but he also wanted to live to see his fiftieth birthday.

“Okay, Michael. I wouldnothave guessed you were a Jane Austen reader.” She bent down and pulled a book off the shelf, which ended up being his much-loved copy ofPride and Prejudice.

“I like the witty back-and-forth.” He cleared his throat, knowing that what he was about to say would only up the stakes between them. “That’s part of what drew me to you. I like that you keep me on my toes.”

She grinned and flipped through the pages. “How do you feel about Mr. Darcy?”

“Oh, he’s an arrogant ass. But he gets the girl in the end, so clearly he’s doing something right.”

“Some people think you’re arrogant.”

He nodded and stepped a little closer. “Some people would be right. But I only act that way. It’s not the real me.”

“So tell me about the real Michael.” She slid the book back into place, then walked over to the couch and took a seat.

“You already know what I do.” He followed her and was momentarily struck with panic when he realized he didn’t know exactly how close he should sit to her. Too close and he worried he’d put too much pressure on her. Too far away and she might not be able to glean exactly how much he liked her. He ultimately split the difference, sitting a few inches closer than someone who was merely a friend.

“I’m not talking about a resumé. I’m talking about you. As a person.”

He had to fight back the urge to make a joke, if only to deflect. He didn’t do well with being under the microscope. It was too easy to see his flaws. “What do you want to know?”

“We talked about this on the way to my office the other day. I get the sense that you’re looking for a relationship, but you don’t seem at all like the guy who could ever be serious. So I’m just trying to figure out what exactly it is that you want.”

He pressed his lips together, thinking about how much easier this would be if he could simply kiss her. That part he could do. Wanting a relationship was brand new territory for him and he would’ve been lying if he said that Sabrina didn’t intimidate the hell out of him. Between her sultry wardrobe, stunning beauty, and clever mind, he wasn’t sure he stood much of a chance with her. “I want a partner. I’m forty-five. I don’t want to be alone forever.”

“Any particular reason why you’re feeling this way now? Forty-five isn’t exactly old. Especially the way you look. Or the way you operate.”

He couldn’t divulge the real reason he’d shifted his priorities. If he had to tell her that it all started with his health issues, she would have every reason to question his motives. And it wasn’t only because of the day he got chest pains at work and one of his coworkers had to summon an ambulance. That had merely been the catalyst—it had shaken him awake and forced him to take stock of the life he’d built for himself. “Operate?”

She shifted in her seat. “Oh, come on, Michael. Every woman in the world knows that you’re incredibly smooth.”

“I’m really not. I just happen to be pretty good at flirting. That’s really all it comes down to.”

“I’m terrible at flirting.”

He nodded. “It’s true. You are.”

Her eyes went wide like dinner plates. “Excuse me?” She playfully smacked his arm with the back of her hand, which he absolutely fucking loved. He wanted her to hit him more often. Softly, of course.

“Your version of flirting is shutting down the other person, which is an unusual tactic. For me, it’s the ultimate challenge. I can’t stay away. It only makes me want you more.” The room went still, leaving him to his thoughts, which were instantly hypercritical of what he’d said. But maybe it was okay to simply be honest. If things went nowhere with Sabrina, at least he’d know that he’d put it all out there.

“I’m feeling a little like I can’t stay away from you, either.”

Bingo.“Oh.” He unsubtly leaned closer.