Drunk on Love(93)

He picked up a slice of pizza.

“I don’t need any wine. Water is fine. Though—”

She grabbed a glass out of the cabinet.

“You don’t like sparkling water, right.” She poured a glass for him and sat back down.

“I could have done that,” he protested.

She nodded.

“I know. But you brought me a whole perfect dinner, I think I could handle getting you a glass of water.”

He put an arm around her, and she relaxed against him.

“I was so . . . When Elliot came in, when you left, I was anticipating the worst.”

“I could tell,” he said.

It was such a relief to be able to talk to him about Elliot. She didn’t have to give him the backstory. She could just talk to him.

“Yeah. But that conversation with Elliot was nothing like what I expected. I thought he would be smug, gloating, sneering at me about Porter Eldridge and how he’d ruined our party.” She shook her head at herself. “Even though Elliot has never gloated about anything, that’s not how he is. Somehow, in the last few years, I built up this version of my brother who doesn’t really exist. But after today, I actually have hope that we can break through all of that.”

She told him the whole story. His eyes were on her the whole time, and his hand in hers.

“Oh, Margot,” he said, when she finished. “You must be so relieved.”

She nodded slowly.

“I think I don’t quite believe it yet?” She reached for a slice of pizza. “Maybe the relief will come, after a little while. It’s not that I don’t believe what Elliot said. I do, intellectually. But . . . it’s been so long.” She took a bite of the pizza. “I still think it’s possible this whole day was a dream, or maybe I just blacked out after our friend Porter made that scene and everything since then is just my fantasy, and I’m going to wake up on the floor of the barn soon with Elliot mad at me and with no delicious meatballs in front of me.”

Luke shook his head.

“The floor of the barn? Come on, Margot—if you’d passed out because of Porter, Taylor and I would have made sure you made it to the couch in your office, at least. Give us some credit! I can’t believe you’d think we would leave you on the floor.”

She bent forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

“You’re right, you would never do that,” she said. “Now I’m wondering if I passed out in the shower the morning that you quit, and everything since then has been a dream.” She thought for a moment. “Or maybe it goes back further than that, and I got in a car accident on my way home from the winery that Sunday night, and I’ve been in a coma ever since, so you are entirely a figment of my imagination.”

He pushed her robe aside and slid his hand up the side of her leg, from her knee to her thigh to her hip.

“I promise, I am flesh and blood,” he said.

She reached for the bottom of his shirt and pushed it up.

“I think that’s exactly what a figment of my imagination would say.”

He untied her robe and moved his hand up the side of her body, until he cupped one of her breasts.

“I am well aware of your excellent imagination.” He moved his thumb and index finger to her nipple and circled it. “I am very grateful for it, as a matter of fact. But do you think that a figment of your imagination would do this?” He pulled her nipple firmly, and her eyes closed.

“Mmm,” she said. “Maybe. You see, the problem is that I would imagine someone who would do everything I like the most, and I happen to really like that.”

“Oh no.” He pushed her legs farther apart and slid his free hand between them. “That means that if I do things like this”—he slid a finger inside of her, and she gasped—“because I know you really like it, it’ll prove I’m not real. I guess the only thing I can do to prove myself to you is to do things you don’t like.” He stilled his finger. And then he grinned. “But where’s the fun in that?”



* * *





LUKE STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE sometimes that he could just do this. That he could sit here, with Margot, and kiss her everywhere he wanted, pull her clothes off, put his hands all over her body, and see all of her. And the best part was that she gloried in it. She reached for him as quickly and eagerly as he reached for her, she kissed him as hard as he kissed her, she sighed and moaned and gasped when he touched her everywhere he was touching her now. He couldn’t get enough of it.

“You know,” he said, as he pushed her robe all the way open. “I truly do love taking your clothes off, I love it a lot. But I also really love it when I get here and you’re wearing a robe and nothing else.”

She laughed. She looked so relaxed, so happy, right now. Even with how exhausted she was after the party, the lines of stress had fallen away from her face. He’d known she was worried and upset about everything going on with her brother, but he hadn’t really understood the extent of how hard it was on her, until he’d walked in tonight and seen how happy she seemed, how free she looked.

“You seem to make a habit of walking in here when I’m wearing nothing but a robe, it’s true,” she said. “But thank you for telling me that—it helps to justify my robe purchasing habit. Now I have a reason to wear them all.”