A Margin of Lust (The Seven Deadly Sins #1)(58)

Lance flopped on the couch, and Gwen went to the dining room. After she filled a glass for him and refilled her own, she joined him in the great room and set the drinks on the coffee table. She took the chair across from him, the one she'd sat in to explain the ins and outs of lockboxes to Mary Beth Frobisher what now seemed eons ago. She studied his face.

It was a stunning face, perfect for the cover of a romance novel. Large, dreamy, espresso-brown eyes sat above high cheekbones. In that genre, his mouth would be described as full and soft and promising pleasure. His gold-brown hair might be compared to tousled bed sheets. It begged to have fingers run through it.

She shouldn't be thinking these thoughts.

Love you, babe. Art's last words to Gwen blared like hunting horns in her mind. Love you, babe. Love you.

"The house looks great." Lance sipped his wine.

"Thanks. It's a beautiful place."

"I forgot how beautiful it was. I haven't been here since you first listed it."

An uncomfortable silence muted the easy banter that normally existed between them. Lance finally spoke. "I took Betty from-three-doors-down's cousin out yesterday. She fell in love with a house in South Laguna. I think we'll have another big deal in escrow soon."

Gwen leaned forward and clinked glasses with him. "Lots to celebrate."

"I'm glad you suggested doing it here. Quieter than a restaurant."

"That's what I thought. Better for conversation."

He raised his eyebrows. "Conversation?"

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you about our... partnership. I mean, moving forward. I want to know your thoughts."

He looked at her over the top of his glass while he drank, then lowered it. "I'd like to make it an official partnership, if that's what you're asking."

"What would that look like?"

"What would you like it to look like?"

Gwen stared at the water cascading down the black windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Turmoil outside and inside. A business partnership with Lance made sense. She could achieve more in her career with his help. She would make more money. More money was better for her family. So, why did she feel like she was being disloyal to Art by considering it? For that matter, why should she even worry about loyalty? Art hadn't. Sitting became impossible. She stood.

"Where are you going?" Lance reached for her hand.

"Let's talk about it over dinner."

He held onto her hand like she hadn't spoken. After a beat, she pulled it away. An angry expression flashed across his features marring them for a second.

"How do you like the wine?" Gwen asked, more brightly than she'd intended.

"Not bad." He twirled the stem of the glass between his fingers and stared at the movement. A few long moments passed, then he asked in a resigned voice, "What are we having?"

Gwen led him to the dining table where she'd artfully laid out her picnic around the vase of roses. Art always said you eat first with your eyes. Stop it. She was thinking about Art again.

He had been unfaithful—she was almost certain. He didn't deserve her consideration. She shoved him firmly from her mind.

Lance sat and began picking through the plates with a fork. He speared an artichoke heart. "What's this?"

"An artichoke, silly." Gwen sat across from him.

He stroked his five o'clock shadow while his eyes traveled from plate to plate. Gwen had assumed Lance would like the same things she and Art did, but now realized she had no idea what he liked. Whatever it was, it didn't appear to be on the table.

"We should share any deals that come as a result of the Cliff Drive property," Gwen said.

"I thought that was a given." He helped himself to some bread and Brie.

"What about listings we already have, or clients we had before we started working together?"

He reached across the table and touched her hand. "Gwen, are you sure you should be making this kind of decision right now? I want to know how you're doing first. You had a real shock yesterday."

Sympathy wasn't good. Sympathy threatened to bring on tears, or rage, or weakness. "I'm okay. Try the artichokes." She handed him the bowl of salad.

He took a small spoonful and put it on his plate. He didn't take any of the oysters. "I have a deal closing at the end of the month. You have this place. Those are done. I vote we pick a starting date and share anything we get after that."

Gwen relaxed a little. They were on familiar ground, talking unemotional shop. "Should we sign a partnership agreement?"

"Absolutely. I have a buddy who's a lawyer. He'd probably write something up for us cheap. Unless you have someone else you'd rather use?"

They fell into an easy discourse about the details of their real estate union. Excitement began to replace unease. He was so easy to talk to, so amenable. If she hesitated on any point, he was quick to ask how she'd like to alter it. She marveled at how much she'd misjudged him. It must have been envy. He'd done so well in such a short time, she'd resented it. She'd been no different than John Gordon. Her small-mindedness made her cringe.

Gwen sipped her wine, and planned her future. The storm raged outside. It was warm and lovely inside. This was good. She and Lance would be good together. She cut into the chocolate ganache cake and handed him a thick slice.