Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“Grammercy Graves.” The hostess—Nannette La Mieux, still holding court after thirty years—spots me, waving us over to the throne where she greets guests with a grin. “Been too long, bébé. Good to see you. How you been keeping yourself? And how’s your mama? Tell her we miss her face round here. That woman works too hard. Gotta make time for play. And music. Always music.”
“I agree, Nannette. Good to see you, too,” I say, leaning in to kiss both her soft, wrinkled cheeks. As I pull back, I add, “I’ve been good. Busy with the new team, but good.”
“You boys are doing better than good, I’d say. That game last night…” She lets out a long appreciative sound. “That was some standout hockey. And looks like you’re making time for other important things, as well.” Glancing past me, she gives Elly a once-over, her dark eyes twinkling. “Who’s this lovely creature?”
“I’m Elly,” she says, reaching a hand past me. “So nice to meet you, Nannette.”
“Likewise,” she says with a mischievous smile, I understand as she adds, “Been waiting a long time for this boy to bring someone other than his mama in here. Members only get to share the Garden with two people, you know, baby girl. Two. That’s it. For life.” She gloats for a moment. “Bet you’re feeling pretty special right now.”
“I’ve felt pretty special since the moment I met him,” Elly says without missing a beat. “I wasn’t sure they made men like this in real life.”
Nannette lets out a low, appreciative sound. “Ooh, girl, you know how it is. You know what you’ve found. See that you don’t let him go ‘cause you’re too right. Aren’t many fish like this one in the sea. Now, a private booth, I think… Tonight is a night for celebration.” She lifts two menus from the polished brass table beside her fancy chair, arching a brow my way. “Would you like to look at these, or do you already know what you want? If you want to wait, that’s fine, but you know we don’t take orders unless we’re between sets.”
“I’ll have a gin and tonic, please,” Elly says.
“Bourbon on the rocks,” I add, earning an approving nod from Nannette.
“Good. I like a couple who order sane, respectable drinks. Not some bougie mixed-up nonsense.” She rises, motioning for us to follow her. “I’ll get those sent over as soon as we get you to your table.”
Elly glances up at me as Nannette turns away, squeezing my hand.
I squeeze hers back, hoping she knows I’ve felt special since the moment I met her, too.
We follow Nannette’s slow, rocking gait across the room, past couples leaning close in the standing room only section, the tables at the back, where rheumy-eyed musicians nearing the end of their time in the garden soak up the set like a holy benediction, and members out with their friends for a one-of-a-kind night on the town.
Nannette finally stops beside a booth close to the stage, but tucked farther back than the rest. The one least likely to provide us with a view of anything but the musicians lost to the music…or anyone else a view of us.
Nannette winks at me as she leaves the menus on the table, but doesn’t speak. No one does this close to the stage, not until they’re inside their sound-dampening booth, anyway.
As we slide in, the small space forces us close, and I’m not complaining. Not for a fucking second. Close is where I’ve wanted to be since the second that kiss ended.
That kiss…
As we sit in silence for the rest of the song, the need to know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, builds until I have no choice but to say the words that have been running through my head since we left St. Charles Avenue.
Hell, since the moment the judge pronounced us man and wife.
“I think we should talk about where we go from here, chère,” I murmur. “What about you?”
She nods, her expression sobering. “Yeah, I think we should. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that faking it doesn’t seem to be working out for us. I don’t think we’re faking it people. Do you?”
She presses her lips together, hesitating for a beat before she whispers just loud enough to be heard over the music as the next set begins with a keening saxophone, “Does this mean you want me and Mimi to move out? Or that you want to keep kissing me as much as I want to keep kissing you?”
I’m a split second away from answering that question with a kiss when Nannette appears with our drinks, setting them down with a knowing smile before melting back into the shadows like she was never there.
Elly curls her fingers around my thigh beneath the table. “Either one is fine, I promise. I just want you to be honest with me.” She sucks in a breath before adding in a rush, “But I’ve never been kissed like that, Grammercy. I’ve never kissed anyone like that, either. That was special, rare, and I think we’d be stupid not to—”