Imperfectly Delicious (Imperfect Series #6) - Mary Frame Page 0,46

They weren’t exactly enthused that Reese and I aren’t artistically inclined, and if you aren’t in their sphere then you’re no one.”

“Cooking is an art.”

“I think so, too, but they don’t see it that way. Food to them is only a means of obtaining energy to create something the world at large can be impressed by.”

“Is your sister artistically inclined?”

“No. Not at all. She’s a total brainiac in like everything but art. She’s in college now, earning a double major in physics and math with a minor in business.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

Scarlett smiles, glowing with pride. “She’s the best. But she’s always been inherently shy, not a fan of the spotlight, and the complete opposite of my parents. Thankfully. With Reese, I didn’t feel alone as a kid, even though we’re six years apart in age. I miss her a lot. I felt bad leaving her in Texas…but.”

“You had to get away from the ex?”

“Yeah. That and I didn’t want to be the reason Reese didn’t fly the nest. She needed a little nudge. As for the ex…he didn’t think I would make it here. In fact, he told me I would be back within six months.”

Should I tell her Marie and I are still technically married? I immediately squash the notion.

No. It doesn’t matter. We’re as good as done and it’s not like I’m thinking about remarrying any time soon. Talk of my ex would definitely ruin the moment. So instead I say, “You showed him.”

“So far.”

I nod.

We’re quiet for a few long seconds, understanding the implications behind her words but refusing to address them.

She takes a sip of wine and sets the glass down on the coffee table. When she sits back again, she’s closer, one little shift on the couch and her thigh presses against mine.

She bites her lip. Her eyes are focused on my mouth and a surge of heat rushes through me.

She inclines in my direction and I lean back. “Scarlett. Are you sure about this? You’ve been drinking.”

A puff of laughter escapes her. “I’ve had a glass and a half over the past three hours, with food.” She smiles and the small movement of her mouth is the end of any resistance I might have had. “And I know you said you could never be just friends with me and I think,” she moves in closer, her eyes dipping to my mouth, “not-friends can make out sometimes.”

And then she kisses me.

Chapter Thirteen

Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the 'Titanic' who waved off the dessert cart.

–Erma Bombeck

Scarlett

I always make the first move, like an aggressive fiend, but something tells me Guy doesn’t mind. Not when his lips are on mine, stroking in the softest way possible. This isn’t like in the kitchen, or even the first time we kissed. It’s not overwhelming and fiery, it’s soft and sweet. Comforting. Like the spaghetti. His arms go around me and pull me closer and then somehow, we’re lying on the couch stretched out and facing each other, my head on his shoulder and his resting on my bicep.

The heat doesn’t escalate like I expected. His hands are around me, but he doesn’t go for the goods like before, not like I might’ve expected. It stays like this, soft and sweet and no expectations.

He pulls back and I follow, seeking more.

“I never bring women here,” he says.

“Never?”

“I have teenage girls. It’s not exactly a den of iniquity. Not since . . .”

“Your ex-wife?”

He hesitates, searching my eyes for a few long seconds and then nods. “She wasn’t the nicest person to them. Or me for that matter.”

Surprise fills me. “Why wouldn’t she be nice? I mean, I can see why you might deserve it,” I tease. “But they are the sweetest girls.”

He smiles, but it falls quickly. “Marie was raised a little differently. She was an only child and her parents are wealthy from some grandparent who struck it big in oil. She’s never had to work or have goals or exist in a world where she wasn’t the center of everything.”

I try to picture Guy in a relationship with someone like that, knowing how hard he works, how hard he’s worked to get to where he is, and I just can’t see it. “I hope you don’t find this question insulting but how could you have married someone like that?”

He shifts to rest his head closer. “I didn’t know how she really was, initially. She was fun, beautiful, sweet and caring. I was riding the high