“Yeah, just like stealing baskets from restaurants…real romantic,” Calvin griped. Mom laughed through her cry before she continued.
“I only found out later, he actually went to a floral shop and picked out each flower himself—daisies, daffodils, cosmos, tulips, and calla lilies—each one just for me.”
I looked at Wilson, her eyes glued on my mom as she spoke about my dad, her hand still touching my mom’s arm. I reached over and held Wilson’s other hand, breaking her mesmerizing stare.
“That’s so romantic,” she whispered, her sky blue eyes damp with the story of my parents as she looked over at me. “I never knew how my grandparents met. I guess I never really asked before.”
I leaned in and kissed her temple. I’d always known how my parents met. I always took it for granted, because I’d heard the story a hundred times before, but this time it was different. This time it meant more to me knowing that Wilson was hearing it.
Camille broke into her story, then, on how she met Dan. But I didn’t listen. I was so entranced by Wilson, all I wanted to hear was her heartbeat speed and her breath hitch when I touched her. I wanted her to know that I felt the same way my dad did when he saw my mom for the first time.
Her eyes met mine, and I just wanted to be alone with her. I wanted to hear what she had to say, wanted to listen to her voice as it trembled when she talked about her family.
“Well, Mom, this was the best sea bass yet,” Calvin said as he stood up and picked up his plate. “Thanks for dinner.” He leaned over and kissed his mom’s head.
“You’re welcome, honey, don’t you want some dessert? It’s vanilla bean ice cream and mixed berry pie.”
Cal looked at me then over at Dan before he answered. “Ahhh, no thanks, Ma,” he said has he rubbed his stomach, “I’m stuffed. And besides, I gotta talk some business with Dan and Max. I bet Wilson and Cam will have some, though. Isn’t that right, ladies?” Calvin smiled, winking at them. There goes my hard-on.
Camille sat up straight. Her face—drawn long with narrow eyes—showed a different story. Her expression looked like she was one of the last kids picked on a kickball team after school. Wilson, on the other hand, looked over at me and with twinkling eyes. I knew it…she isn’t going to get up and we aren’t going to leave. So much for my plan.
I dropped my hand against the top of her thigh, before I inched it inward. She always reacted to my fingers as I pushed them up against the seam of her pants. Her legs widened. Damn, I can feel the heat radiating from her.
I stood up abruptly and kissed the top of Wilson’s head. “I’ll be right back. Save a bite for me,” I whispered.
“Maybe,” she teased.
I shuffled past her, following Dan and Calvin into the great room. This wasn’t my plan—not at all.
Chapter Thirteen
~ Wilson ~
I watched Max walk out, leaving me with his mom and sister. Not my plan, but I didn’t mind too much either. I really liked Nancy, and well, Camille wasn’t half bad herself. But there was a part of me, a pretty huge part, that really wanted to be alone with Max right then. Nancy stood up and grabbed the last cluster of empty dinner plates.
“Let me take these into the kitchen,” she droned quietly.
“Here, let me help you,” I said, shooting up out of my chair.
“No, absolutely not. It’s a one-woman job. I’ll be right back with some pie and ice cream,” she insisted.
“Oh, Wilson, just let her do it. That’s her way,” Camille said as she motioned for me to sit down. She looked at the kitchen before she repositioned herself to face me. I could tell she had something on her mind, something she needed to talk to me about. The minute Nancy disappeared, Camille’s chest heaved and she looked down at her hands as she slid them across the table in front of her. Camille’s eyes rose to meet mine and we sat there for a measurable second, looking at each other in silence.
“Camille, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted when you came to me for help with Max. I should have—”
“Do you want to know why I came to you? I went to you because it’s what Max would have done for me. My brothers have always been the ones to protect me. Even though they are younger than me, they still take it upon themselves to take care of me, like I’m this delicate, breakable thing. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my brothers. I just wish they would stop thinking that I can’t handle anything.”
I felt the muscles in the back of my neck tighten and blood flush across my face, and without any warning, I felt jealous. Not that she had Max’s attention, or even that she held a protective space in his heart. I envied that she had brothers who would protect her so vehemently. How different my life may have been if I had a sibling to protect me. Thank God I had Joanie. She was the closest thing I would ever have to a sister.