Mid Life Love: At Last (Mid Life Love #2)(38)

“Oh...Well, great. Feel free to tell her that my pasta is ten times better than yours when she gets here.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Because you use oregano?”

“Because it just tastes better and you know it.”

I did know it, and I’d written down everything she used so I could copy it for next time.

Since Claire still wasn’t home an hour later, I asked my mom to make another batch so I could have it flown to Arizona for Ashley and Caroline. As she and I continued to talk, I realized that for the first time in my life, I actually enjoyed being around her—even if we only discussed the simple things.

“Thanks for having me over, Jonathan. This really meant a lot to me.” She stood in front of her car in tears. “I hope this wasn’t the last time...”

I stepped forward and hugged her. “It wasn’t. I’ll see you in therapy next week.”

She nodded and slipped inside the car, and I waited for her to make it down the long driveway before I went inside.

I was putting away the leftover pasta when I happened to look up at the glass clock that hung on the wall.

That has to be a mistake...Did we never reset it?

I pulled my phone out to double check and realized that our clock was absolutely right.

Claire was testing me. Again.

Chapter 8

Claire

I pulled into our garage at nine thirty. I had no idea my last consultation would take three hours, and no idea that the second set of flowers that arrived at my office this afternoon had been sent by Ryan.

It wasn’t until I was closing that I’d noticed a small pink notecard hanging from the stems and realized that I’d placed his bouquets all over the store with Jonathan’s. Before I left, I’d made sure to toss every last one of his roses into the dumpster and flush his note down the toilet. Still, I couldn’t forget what it read: “Do I have to send you flowers every day like your billionaire fiancée does just to get your attention? You WILL talk to me, Claire...—Ryan.”

I shuddered just thinking about him. He literally made my skin crawl.

I scrolled through my phone and saw that Jonathan had sent me several texts while I was driving home: ‘Where are you?’ ‘Claire, call me...’ ‘I called your office an hour ago but you weren’t there. Are you okay?’ ‘Why aren’t you answering your phone?’

Today was a Thursday—a family dinner night and our anniversary. He’d been talking about it all week, making love to me every night for hours, and telling me how happy he was that we’d been together so long.

I called him. No answer.

I texted him ‘Are you at home?’ No answer.

I slipped out of the car and looked down the path where he parked his collection, noticing that his Aston Martin was missing.

Good...

I figured that meant he was gone and I still had time to set up everything. I headed into the house and into the dining room, determined to light a few candles and prepare some champagne for us. But when I hit the light switch nothing happened.

I flicked it up and down two more times and there was no effect. Then they suddenly brightened and dimmed.

“Good evening, dear.” Jonathan was sitting at the end of the table, smiling. “It’s good to know that you came home at six today like you promised...I was beginning to think you’d forgotten our anniversary.”

“You sent me a hundred flowers today. How could I forget?” I looked around the room and noticed that he’d set out champagne and a large tray of strawberries that were drenched in chocolate.

There were tall red candles waiting to be lit, and right in front of me—on my side of the table, was a silver box with my name on it.

He stood up from his chair and walked over to me, holding me still with his gaze. “You know what I love most about you, Claire?”

“There’s only one thing?”

“There’s several.” He stepped behind me and kissed the back of my neck, setting my skin on fire. “But the one thing I love most about you, is that you are so sweetly stubborn. You can never stick to what we agree on. I don’t even think you try anymore.”

“Nine thirty is extremely late isn’t it? Can you believe some people actually come home after that? I wonder how they live with themselves...”

“You’re the one who suggested six o’ clock.” He pulled out my chair and moved in front of me. “Have a seat.” His voice was firm.

“Are you trying to intimidate me, Jonathan? On our anniversary?”

“Have a seat, Claire.”

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms, waiting for him to stop looking at me like he wanted to bend me over. “I’m not intimidated by you right now.”

He smiled and pressed his lips against mine. “You should be.”

My eyes widened and I sank down into my chair.

I watched him light the tall candles that were spread around the room, watched him grab the champagne bottle and glasses and bring them over to me.

He kept his eyes on mine as he popped the bottle open and poured each of us a glass.

“To the stubborn love of my life.” He leaned against the table and placed a glass in my hand. “Next year we’ll be celebrating our wedding anniversary, but for now, cheers to—”

“The first day we said I love you,” I whispered.