One minute this afternoon, she was joking around with him and explaining the ridiculous rules of pageantry, and the next minute she was accepting autographs like a celebrity—a down-to-earth celebrity. She really won him over on the boat ride. Like the children, she sat engaged with his every word as he retold a Puerto Rican folktale. With each throaty laugh she gave, she’d tilt her head backward. She didn’t care when the wind whipped her hair into her face and didn’t stop once to check her reflection. Stephen couldn’t figure out how she was part sweetheart and part sex kitten at the same time.
“Where are the girls?”
Speaking of sex kitten. Stephen gulped when he turned with his drink in his hand. The coolness of the ice against his glass reminded him of how sweaty and slippery his palms got when he looked at her. She stood in the doorway of her room in a fitted black dress that only amplified her curves. Her hair hung to one side, practically covering her left eye while the rest hung down her back, long and straight. Her lips were a kissable red and he itched to try them out. Stephen’s eyes fell to the hem of the dress, which stopped above her knees. Her long stems poured into a pair of black shoes with heels so high she might be his height. He envisioned Lexi draped across a piano, singing a sultry song—or better yet, on his king-size bed.
Setting the drink on the coffee table in front of the couch, he sniffed and chuckled. “Funny thing.”
“Why do I feel like I’m not going to laugh?”
“The kids are taking a cooking class.” Stephen shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to think of something to say. “You’re beautiful.”
A pink blush spread across her cheeks. “So are you—well, I mean in the man version.”
Silence fell between them. The long, black hands of the clock over the fireplace ticked down the seconds. Stephen wanted nothing more than to carry her into the bedroom, and considering the way she returned his stare, she’d allow him. This would be their first time being alone without the threat of interruption from kids. While a quick roll in the sack would satisfy his sexual desire, he wanted things to be different with Lexi. Now that he was living in Southwood full-time, and because of her interactions with Philly, he didn’t want things to be awkward between them. He wanted to learn more about her this evening.
“Shall we go to dinner?” If he did not sit down, she would question if he was a man or an adolescent. Something about being around Lexi forced his body to respond. He needed to recite the starting lineup for the Atlanta Braves. These involuntary erections were going to be the death of him.
“You still want to go to dinner? If the kids aren’t here, I figured you might not want to go out...” Her words trailed off.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to get me all alone so soon,” he teased. “We haven’t even completed our first date.”
“This isn’t a date.” The smile on her face disappeared but a twinkle in her eye remained.
“Yes, I know,” Stephen teased. “You don’t date parents. I assume your hearing is okay?”
“Mine?” Lexi cocked her head up at him.
“Because I’ve told you several times now,” he said as he leaned over and took a chance, pressing his lips against her cheek right below her earlobe. “I’m not a parent.”
“Let’s go eat,” she said drily.
Chapter 9
Owen’s lived up to its reputation as one of the finest restaurants in the whole state of Georgia. Stephen liked the hardwood floors leading to the white-clothed tables with solid black accessories. A hanging white drape privatized the booths, drowning out the conversations nearby.
Full from a plate of the best risotto, pan-seared chicken breasts and fresh Italian greens, Stephen sat back and watched Lexi. She’d ordered the carbonara and a salad. He enjoyed watching her eat, envying the fork in her mouth. He reveled in the fact that she didn’t turn down the bite he’d offered her of his food.
“Tell me about being a pageant coach. How long have you been doing it?” Stephen asked over the plate of sour-cream pound-cake tiramisu.
Lexi slid her silver fork out of her mouth. “Officially, I haven’t been a pageant coach in over ten years.”
“Where does Waverly fit in with your timeline? I recall her saying she was from New Orleans.”
“I offer my advice to Waverly. She is family, in the sense she attends boarding school with my niece.”
“I see. So, if you haven’t coached in a while, why the sudden comeback?”
“Chantal, my assistant, approached me about adding a pageantry workshop for Saturday afternoons. She teaches a dance class at the center and some of the young mothers spoke up about being interested in it for their girls.”
“For the girls or for them?” he asked, thinking of some of the mothers this morning.
“With every pageant, there some mothers who want to encourage their daughters, and then there are those who want to live vicariously. They’re the easiest ones to spot.”
Stephen felt as if a pair of jackass ears were growing from his head right about now. Lexi put out a good product. People listened to her. People followed her and they took her advice. She was driven, like him. “Chantal is wise.”
“She is.” Lexi nodded. “She is finishing her degree, working for me and teaching dance. She does it all.”
“Including volunteering your services as pageant coach?”