Page 35 of Love Marks
Am I having a stroke? Who is this man and what has he done with the real Wesley Marks? Is having his mother around all it takes to bring out his pleasant side? If so, I should offer her the guest bedroom. Before I have a chance, Lillian puts her fork down and stands.
“Excuse me. My bladder calls.”
She sweeps out of the room, leaving Wesley and I sitting alone. The urge to apologize for encroaching on his space is so strong, I can’t contain it.
“I’m sorry for intruding. It wasn’t my intention. I tried to say no but she’s kind of a force to reckon with.”
He cuts into his steak, not looking up. He doesn’t say anything, the silence stretching between us. He’s pissed. He’s definitely pissed.
“I can go. You’re probably exhausted from work and I’m the last person you want messing up your evening—”
“It’s fine.” His voice cuts into mine.
“Are you sure?”
“I just said it’s fine,” he barks, his dark eyes meeting mine.
I swallow the piece of steak I’m chewing with a gulp. I don’t bother asking him if the food is okay. If he says this steak is fine, too, I might lose it. His mother seems to like me, but I doubt she’d like the sight of me screaming at her son, even if he does deserve it.
“Is that why you made the menus?” Wesley interrupts the silence, his eyes meeting mine again.
“What?” I ask.
“Opening your own restaurant. Are the menus for practice?” He clarifies.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess. I just thought it would be fun and maybe make things easier so that we don’t have to…” I trail off.
“Interact?” He supplies with a smirk.
I wince. “I just thought you would prefer that.”
He nods tightly. “Right.”
I take a sip of wine that can hardly be called a sip since I basically down the whole glass. The awkward silence has resumed. Luckily, Lillian returns a minute later, sliding back into her seat.
“So, Quinn, you were telling me about your family?”
* * *
The longest meal of my life finally comes to an end about thirty minutes later. Once the plates are clear and Lillian is distracted by her conversation with Wesley, I jump up from the table, busying myself in the kitchen while they talk. I’m finishing up when I hear Lillian saying goodbye.
“Quinn, darling. Lovely to meet you and thank you for humoring me tonight. My son is quite lucky to have you, even if he doesn’t say so.”
She reaches out, bringing me into a hug that I find myself returning easily. For some reason her approval fills me with a new warmth. She steps back and Wesley walks her to the elevator. I hear the doors open and the ding, followed by their hushed goodbyes. Before I know it, Wesley walks back into the kitchen.
We’re alone all the time but this feels different. Charged, somehow. I’m done in the kitchen, so I prepare to make my escape.
“Well. I should get going too. Everything’s all set here, so…” I trail off. I grab my coat off the coat rack and slip my shoes on, avoiding his eyes. Hopefully I can get out of here relatively unscathed. Only a few more minutes. I’m barreling towards the elevator doors when I hear Wesley call after me.
“Quinn?”
I turn and meet his gaze. He’s studying me like he’s trying to make a decision.
“Yes?”
I wait for him to speak. He shakes his head a little and breaks eye contact, his hand on the back of his neck.
“Goodnight.”