Page 72 of Three Steps Behind

“Well, tonight you’ll have a fantastic meal.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Dalton took a lingering sip of wine. “Excellent choice, don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely.”

“What’s caught your eye?”

“Hmm?” She quickly turned her attention back to him. “What do you mean?”

“You keep staring about the restaurant.”

“Oh, it’s fun seeing it doing well.”

“That it is.” He toasted to her again, and she took a subsequent sip.

“Mmm,” she murmured, setting her glass down. “I just noticed it looks like a lot of new staff since I’ve been in here.”

“Restaurant turnover is part of the trade, I’m afraid.”

“That makes sense.” She forced a smile onto her face, working to offer him one as loving as she had before she learned the truth. But it wasn’t quite the same, and she noticed he was studying her as much as she was studying the restaurant staff.

She reached over and cupped her hand over their joined ones. “I’m so happy to be here with you. It’s all I thought about in that awful place.”

“And you’re all I thought about while you were in there.” That and selling women, apparently. Oh, and let’s not forget the drugs.

“There’s my favorite couple,” Miquel said, a plate of appetizers in hand.

“They’re putting you to work?” Dalton laughed. “A jack-of-all-trades, this one.”

Oh, she’d learned that.

“I wanted to personally welcome you back to Spatina.” Miquel set down a large round plate filled with seafood atop an artful display of vibrant fruit and seaweed.

“Thank you, Miquel. This looks lovely.” Releasing Dalton’s hand, she draped a napkin across her lap.

“Of course. If you two need anything, just send one of the girls to get me. I’ll be in my office.”

If only she could get a look in there . . . though the room behind the bookcase held her thoughts. It’d become a mark for her, and she hadn’t lost one yet.

“What?” Dalton asked, his fingers brushing along her arm.

She arched a brow. “What, what?”

“You got that look.” He took another sip of his wine.

“What look?” Breathe nice and slow. Calm your system down.

“The one that means your mind’s racing.”

She laughed it off. “Isn’t it always?”

“True. You just seem so distracted tonight.”

She shifted in her seat to draw closer to his side. “It’s just that being out and seeing everything I’ve loved all at once is a bit overwhelming.” Loved as in past tense. Now nothing remained for him but contempt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even think. Perhaps a quiet dinner at the house would be more comfortable for you.”