Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(46)

“What looks good to you?”

My eyes snapped up and drank him in. Oh, I know what looks good to me, alright. “Uh, the New York strip maybe.” Shit, is there even a New York strip on this menu?

“Hmm, that sounds good. I’m thinking of going with the prime rib though."

As I contemplated whether or not I could stealthily finger myself under the table and relieve some of the desire that had settled there, our waiter appeared.

“Hi, folks. How are you both doing this evening?” He filled our water glasses as we replied that we were fine. “My name is Chris and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you started with something from the bar?”

“Want to share a bottle of wine?” Adam asked me.

“I’d share anything with you,” I blurted out dreamily before realizing what I had just said. My eyes widened as Adam tried to suppress a smile and Chris shifted his weight slightly.

“We’ll take a bottle of your house Chianti.”

“Certainly, sir. I’ll be right back with that.”

I watched Chris hurry away before turning my attention back to Adam. He was staring at me intently, a sly smile playing on his lips.

“So, you’d share anything with me, huh?” His tone was teasing, but there was a heat in his eyes that caused a warmth to spread over my body.

I figured I could play this one of two ways. I could either be embarrassed by what I had said and try to change the subject, or I could embrace my words and set about my primary goal for the evening: seducing Adam Carter. Needless to say, I chose option B. “Pretty much. Why? Are you offering?”

He leaned back, allowing his cream sweater to pull deliciously over his taut body. I wanted to unravel it with my teeth. “Well, you know me. I like to know all of the specifics about the person sitting across the table from me before I entertain an offer.”

Chris returned with the wine, and poured a little in Adam’s glass so he could taste it. But instead of taking a sip, Adam handed the glass to me.

“Taste this and see if it’s the one you want.”

My eyes jerked from the glass to him. He was gazing intently at me, and I knew his words carried weight beyond the wine. I wrapped my hand around the glass and brought it to my lips. I let a small moan escape as I let the wine fill my mouth. Handing the glass back to him and looking directly into his eyes, I replied. “Yes, this is definitely the one I want.”

His eyes gleamed as he set the glass down and settled back against the chair. Chris realized that he was intruding on a private moment that was about much more than a simple bottle of Chianti. He asked if we had any questions about the menu and took our order swiftly before leaving us alone.

Adam sat up straight and placed his forearms on the table. His eyes never left mine as he seemed to be trying to work something out in his head. Finally, he spoke. “I meant what I said. I need to put everything on the table before this goes any further.” He watched me warily, clearly unsure how I would react.

I also straightened up then, mimicking his body position and leaning closer to him. “This looks like a pretty sturdy table. I bet it can handle whatever strain we put on it.”

I watched the tick in Adam’s jaw. He looked uncomfortable. And I knew there was only one thing that could make Adam feel this way. “Is it Max that you want to talk about?”

He hesitated briefly before releasing a sigh. “Yes,” he said simply.

“What do you want to know?”

“I haven’t wanted to ask this, mostly because I’m not sure I really want to know the answer, but . . . do you still see him?”

Now it was my turn for a simple answer. “Yes.”

His posture sagged just slightly, but it was enough for me to notice. “How . . . uh, when . . . um . . .” He ran his hand roughly over his face, instantly making me feel guilty for making this such an issue between us.

I reached over the table and grabbed his hand. “Adam?” I waited for his eyes to meet mine before I continued. “You need to ask me whatever it is you want to know. Nothing is off limits. I want this.” I motioned between us with my free hand. “More than you could ever know. But it’ll never work if we don’t clear the air. So ask.”

Adam eyed me cautiously as he got his thoughts organized. “In what capacity do you see Max?”

“Strictly as friends.” My eyes never left his in the hope that he could see the truth that resided there.

“Friends?” he scoffed quietly and pulled his hand back from mine, lowering both to his lap. “I seem to remember being told that before.”

I took a steadying breath. “You’re right. You were.”

“And it was a lie then.”

“Yes. It was," I answered, though I knew it wasn’t a question. I kept my voice low and neutral. Everything was riding on this conversation, and I didn’t want it getting muddled in a haze of emotions.

“But I’m supposed to believe that it isn't this time?”

“I don’t expect you to believe me at my word. I’ve given you a lot of reasons to doubt me. But . . . I don’t know what else I have to offer you other than that.” I couldn’t help but feel a sliver of defeat crawl through me. I had no other way to assure him of my feelings other than to say them. But my words weren’t credible to him. If he gave me time, I was sure I could prove it to him. Was he willing to take the risk and give me that time? That was the million dollar question.