Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss #4) - Nalini Singh Page 0,58

her mirth erupted into a small snort, and when Abe glared at her again, the snort turned into giggles. Giving in, she laughed harder than she’d laughed in an entire year, delighted with this night, with the rock star across from her, with the way the sensual memory of chocolate lingered on her tongue, with the entire world.

ABE HAD NEVER BEEN SO SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED. Sarah had always had a way of riling him up, but before, when they’d been together, he’d made her pay for her teasing—to both their pleasure. Often she’d teased him for exactly that reason. And he’d let her, having convinced himself their physical chemistry didn’t mean anything, that it was just sex.

Yeah, which was why he’d never once cheated on her, no matter how many groupies threw themselves at him.

It had never been just sex, not with Sarah.

But watching her laugh, even if it was at his expense… it was better than sex. He hadn’t seen his wife laugh for the longest time. Perhaps since halfway through their marriage. He’d forgotten how goddamn beautiful she was when she laughed, open and luminous and with zero fear of the world.

Sarah was magnificent always, but she was a goddess when she laughed.

Wiping her thumbs under her eyes to sweep away the tears that had fallen during the laughter, her cheeks still creased in a deep smile, she said, “Drink your tea.”

He looked askance at the cup he’d ignored. Fine condensation had begun to bead on the sides, so it wasn’t hot tea. “Why are there leaves floating in it?”

“Fresh mint. It’s delicious.”

Abe wasn’t sold, but decided he might as well try to develop an enjoyment of other drinks since alcohol wasn’t ever going to be on the menu and Florentina Chastain would probably be mortally offended if he asked for coffee. He drank. “It tastes like toothpaste.”

“It does not!”

He drank some more, found the toothpaste-flavored ice water kind of grew on him. “Okay,” he admitted. “I might drink that again.” He almost told her to remember what it was called so he could order it again one day, as if she’d always be by his side.

Quick, confident steps sounded before the words could spill out, Florentina Chastain herself walking up to clear away their plates. She gave him a haughty look straight down the bridge of her aquiline nose. “You don’t like mousse?”

Abe had a feeling that if he didn’t answer right, he’d never again get a table here—and Sarah liked this place. “It’s her fault.” He pointed at the culprit. “She ate her mousse in front of me. Slowly. Very, very slowly.”

Sarah’s mouth fell open. “Abe!” Scrunching up her napkin, she threw it at his head.

Florentina’s icy demeanor thawed as he caught the soft missile, an unexpected sparkle in her gaze. “Ah, then my chocolate has done its job, no?” Sweeping away the plates, she walked off, her heels making small tip-tap sounds on the roof.

“I can’t believe you said that.” Sarah pinned him with a scowl.

“At least she’ll allow you to eat her desserts again.”

Sarah went to speak, paused. “Hmm. Yes, you’re right.” She took a final sip from her cup before their usual server arrived to deliver their new tea and remove the old cups.

Florentina returned after the quiet, efficient male, this time with a pot of some creamy thing that she put in the center of the table. She then placed small platters of beautifully sliced and arranged fruit in front of them, including some exotic things Abe didn’t immediately recognize. “Enjoy.” A glance at Abe. “Perhaps you should eat slowly in front of her this time?”

With that wicked suggestion, she walked off to disappear down the stairs.

Abe looked at the tiny fork Florentina had left by his plate, then at his hand.

Yeah, no.

Using his fingers to pick up a slice of what might’ve been white peach, he dipped it in the sauce thing and threw the whole piece into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. It was pretty good. The fruits weren’t raw as he’d initially thought—they’d been cooked very slightly and coated with some spices that felt good on the tongue. He ate another piece, all the while deliberately not looking at Sarah. Until he realized she hadn’t reached for a single piece of fruit.

Frowning, he threw the second half of an orange slice into his mouth. “You don’t want to try?”

Cheeks flushed and eyes glittering, she ducked her head. But it was too late; he’d seen what she was trying to