Page 16 of Best Kept Vows (Savannah’s Best #6)

Sebastian

A s we made our way through the cobblestone streets of downtown Savannah, Lia held onto my arm.

I knew Lia would like the elegant restaurant. It was understated with modern touches, but the high ceilings and crown molding gave the room an airy, almost theatrical feel.

When we stepped in, the rich scent of butter and steak welcomed us, along with a sharply dressed hostess.

“Table for two, under Boone.” I slid an arm around Lia, and she cuddled into me, which was a welcome relief.

“This way, please.” The hostess led us past tables draped in crisp white tablecloths, set with gleaming silverware and delicate stemware, and a sleek mahogany bar where a bartender was mixing drinks.

We walked past couples leaning over their wine glasses, their voices hushed, and a group of friends laughing over plates of fresh seafood and house-made pasta.

The hostess led us to a secluded corner table.

I felt a twinge of nervousness as I pulled out Lia's chair for her.

“Your server will be with you shortly,” the hostess informed us and wished us a good evening.

I worried about how this night would turn out.

I didn’t want to fight.

I wanted peace.

I wanted to go back to a time when we got along, and when not everything was harsh words and rude comebacks.

I wanted my wife and my marriage back.

I had a lot of work to do with Lia and my children. After the debacle at the Olde Pink House, I’d called Ada, who had been candid in her censure. But she’d also apologized for insinuating I was having an affair—which had been a much-needed reprieve.

Tristan was still standoffish, but he explained that he hated taking sides because our marriage was our business—but he couldn’t stand how I’d been treating their mother. I had apologized, and, even though, at that time I wasn’t sure how to fix things with Lia, I had said I would do so.

I didn’t think one dinner was going to somehow fix the issues we faced. I knew we had to talk openly, but not tonight. I wanted respite from work and the tension at home. I wanted my Lia with me. I wanted to have a good meal and take her home and fuck her brains out like I used to .

Our waiter arrived with menus, and I watched as Lia scanned the options. She seemed lost in thought for a moment before looking up at me and smiling shyly. "This place is beautiful. Thank you.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling a warmth spread through me at the sound of her voice. "I'm glad you like it," I replied, trying to keep my tone light. “So, what kind of wine do you feel like?”

Lia looked at the menu and shrugged. “Red. I want steak tonight.”

I browsed the wine menu. “How about a Chateauneuf-du-Pape?”

“Sounds good.”

We spent the next few minutes discussing our meal choices. I loved the way our hands brushed against each other as we did. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant—like we were getting used to one another again.

The sommelier praised my choice, probably because the bottle cost nearly two hundred dollars.

The wine was worth every penny, I decided when I tasted it.

“It’s been a while since we did fancy.” Lia took a sip of her drink and nodded appreciatively.

“I know.” I clasped her hand in mine. “But I want to do this more…like we used to.”

“Then we used to have the kids with us,” she remarked, her eyes gazing into mine as if she were trying to discern where I was.

When had so many walls risen between us ?

When did we become two people who knew each other for so many years and still felt uneasy?

Did all long-term marriages go through this? Were we unique? And if we were, could we go back to who we used to be: a happily married couple?

“How was your first day?” I asked.

A part of me didn’t like that she was working.

Call me old-fashioned!

However, I also understood that she couldn’t just sit at home twiddling her thumbs, and it was pretty clear that, for Lia, working with my mother and sister at the foundation was equivalent to a root canal.

“It was amazing,” she gushed.

Before she could elaborate, the server came to take our order. Once she left, Lia continued with a sense of awe. “We worked on the pitch presentation. The meeting is in a few months, but this hospital project is a nine hundred million dollar one.”

“This is the hospital that Tommy Minton is building?” I loved how happy she looked because she hadn’t been for a while. I’d never seen her face light up like this unless it was because of the kids.

“Yes! Three hundred beds and all state-of-the-art.” She drank some wine and then grinned. “Luna said that she wants me to be there during the final presentation. Isn’t that going to be exciting?”

I couldn’t help it. I brought her hand close to my lips and kissed her knuckles. “Very thrilling. I’m really happy for you, baby. ”

Her eyes filled with caution. “Are you? You were really angry and?—”

“I really am happy for you, Lia.”

When our entrees arrived, we marveled at the presentation. The delicately arranged vegetables and expertly prepared meats made the food look almost too beautiful to eat.

I watched as Lia took a bite of her dish, her eyes closing in delight.

“This is so good,” she moaned, and the sound made my dick stand up.

It had been so long since we’d made love—which was my fault. But tonight, I hoped that we could step back into the marriage we used to have, one where we had sex, couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, where we enjoyed intimacy.

I’d ruined all that by becoming single-minded in my obsession to save Boone Metals.

Thinking about the company immediately slumped my shoulders.

I’d thought that taking over the family business, that my father finally relinquishing control, would be a banner day—and now I felt that was the day I began to lose myself and my family.

“How was Sunday dinner?” she asked when we were driving home.

“I walked out.”

“What?”

Well, she wasn’t the only one who was surprised. I was, as well. As someone who believed family came first and the Boone name was to be protected at every cost, I never thought a day would come when I’d storm away from my mother’s table.

“You’re right. You don’t have to go there anymore. Hell, I don’t think I am going, either. Dad looked miserable; he left early, too.” I turned left onto our street.

“Your father is lonely,” she said sadly.

“Yeah. I got that. Hendrix said you were the only one from the family who gives a shit about him.” I pressed the button to open the garage door, and while it opened, I put my hand on hers. “Thank you, Lia. He was an asshole to you, and still, you’re the one who’s there for him.”

She flushed. “Well…I just…you know, have the experience what with my grandfather having a stroke.”

I slid the car into the garage and pressed the button to close the bay door.

“No, baby, you have the biggest heart.”

I took her face in my hands and kissed her.

As my tongue danced with hers, I realized it had been ages since we had kissed like this , with our tongues tasting one another. We gave pecks on the cheeks and quick kisses on the lips, but those were affectionate, not intimate.

But this kiss—slow, searching, familiar—was a reminder of everything we used to be. And maybe, everything we were about to lose.