All They Need(46)

“Thank God,” he said the moment the waitress left. “That was like listening to the begat part of the Bible. Corn-fed spatchcock begat braised witloof begat roasted baby beets begat brandied goat’s cheese—”

She choked on the mouthful of water she was swallowing.

“Are you all right? Should I come around and Heimlich you?” he offered.

“I don’t think you can Heimlich for fluids.” She coughed.

“Good point.” He watched sympathetically as she finally got a grip.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”



Her daze darted around the restaurant again, almost as though she was checking to see if anyone was watching. Her fingers pleated the edge of her linen napkin, folding it back and forth, back and forth.

“Do you have any idea what you’d like?” he asked.

“I’m not sure…?.”

He asked if she wanted wine but it was very loud thanks to all the concrete and she had to ask him to repeat himself twice. Over at the bar, a woman laughed, the sound not unlike an excited hyena.

He looked at Mel. She had her best game face on, but his gut told him she was deeply uncomfortable. Hell, he was uncomfortable. He’d wanted to treat her, to give her a nice experience and, yes, to show off a little. Instead, he’d landed them in the middle of the sort of trendy, pretentious eatery he usually avoided like the plague.

He made eye contact with her across the table and decided to take a gamble.

“Okay, I’m just going to put it out there,” he said, leaning forward so he could be heard over the din. “There’s this really great burger joint around the corner from the office. They make their own relish and instead of buns they use—”

“Let’s go,” Mel said, already reaching for her coat.

He laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“I really like burgers.”

She was being diplomatic, he knew. They stood and he helped her into her jacket. The waitress approached and he told her that they’d changed their minds. His hand on the small of Mel’s back, he guided her toward the door.

They were almost home free when he felt her muscles tense beneath his hand. He glanced at her face and saw that her eyes had gone blank. For a moment he didn’t understand. Then he felt someone staring at him and glanced toward the bar.

Owen Hunter stood amongst a group of suits, a glass of wine in hand, his gaze pinned to them. He looked shocked. And, unless Flynn was wildly mistaken, angry.

Mel lengthened her stride, reaching the door and exiting into the cool winter air ahead of him. He gave her a moment to compose herself before touching her arm.

“You okay?”

“Yes. Of course,” she said, but her voice sounded hoarse, strained.

Flynn’s hand found the small of her back again and he guided her toward the car. He waited until she was busy fastening her seat belt before he spoke again.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“More than a year ago. We pretty much did everything through the lawyers.”

There was a question in his mind, one that had been bugging him for a long time. He hesitated to ask it. Then he shrugged. If this attraction between him and Mel was going to go anywhere, there needed to be a certain level of honesty and understanding between them.

“Feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but how did you guys ever get together? I keep trying to picture him not being a complete ass-hat and failing miserably.”

Her lips bent into a parody of a smile. “We were both backpacking through Europe. I went for a year when I was twenty-one and stayed for four I loved it so much. I met Owen at the beginning of my last year at a bar in Portugal. I beat him in the limbo competition, and that was pretty much it.”

“Again, I can’t picture Hunter backpacking, either.”

The other man always seemed so aware of his own status, his own importance. Backpacking seemed to be the very antithesis of everything that Hunter appeared to crave and value.

“He loved it. I think he saw it as a challenge. He could make a euro go further than anyone I’ve ever traveled with.” She gave a sharp little laugh.

“What?” he asked.

“I was just remembering how shocked I was when I learned he had money. We got married a week before we were due home, on the beach in Thailand, and he told me that night about his parents and their money and his trust fund. He said he hadn’t wanted to tell me before because he wanted to make sure I was marrying him because I loved him and not because of what he could do for me.”