Page 57 of Plus One

She released him and pirouetted to her groom. “Let’s go eat and dance, y’all!”

“Lanie…” Maurice called after her. “Elaine!” Tommie and Lanie laughed and continued up to the restaurant.

When Maurice turned around, his eyes found Monique scanning through her photos. He stepped toward her, taking her bag from her shoulder. The look on her face stopped him. So beautiful.

For so many years, he’d been locked away. And it hadn’t just been when he was in the penitentiary. As a kid, he’d been angry and afraid. Afraid for his mother. Furious over the situation that they couldn’t seem to get out of. Afraid of the anger that roiled just under his skin, making his flesh prickly and itchy. He could never ease up on his diligence, on his self-control.

Prison hadn’t been the only thing that took from Maurice. He’d done a lot of this to himself. Withholding himself, keeping joy in sight yet inaccessible. Now all these firsts came parading at him, pelting him like a sandstorm, peeling away all his protective barriers. And he’d created a lot of barriers.

Until he met Monique, there had never been a reason to interrogate ifallhis needs were met. He had work that he enjoyed and people he cared for, a home of his own—a quiet, empty home.

At fifty-one, and with his freedom entering adolescence, he wasn’t so sure of anything anymore.

Maurice gathered himself before extending his hand. “Shall we?”

She slid her hand into his and let him lead her toward the party that was ascending the stone steps.

By the time they made it up to the dining room, the family had already made themselves comfortable at the long table that overlooked the water. Their group was set apart from the other diners, but not isolated like they were yesterday. Tommie waved them over, grinning as if he’d personally arranged for the moon to rise full and bright over the bay.

String lights crisscrossed overhead, casting everything in warm amber. Below them, through gaps in the floorboards, that same bioluminescent bay pulsed with light—proof that the magic they’d just experienced was real and ongoing.

Monique moved toward the table. Maurice followed, her camera bag still on his shoulder because he wasn’t quite ready to stop carrying something for her.

She chose a seat, and he stood there like an idiot until she patted the chair beside her, where there would be no buffer between him and the overwhelming reality of her.

He sat.

Her shoulder brushed his as she settled in. Bare skin against the linen of his shirt. That small touch traveled through his entire body like a current through water.

The server appeared. Menus materialized along with water glasses and a fresh basket of yeast bread.

Focusing on anything other than cataloging every move Monique made was next to impossible. He needed to remember everything.

“You okay?” Monique asked, voice pitched low enough that only he could hear.

“Yeah.” The word came out rough. He cleared his throat. “Just… thinking.”

She made a sound. Not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “You’re always thinking.”

True. But tonight his thoughts moved slow and thick, caught in the space between what had happened in the water and what could happen next. More of her mouth on his and her hands on his body. More of her opening to him, like he was someone who deserved that kind of trust.

He groaned and shifted in his seat. The urge to touch her warred with the urge to run away.

She smiled, small and knowing, as if she could see straight through every barrier that he’d spent his life erecting, like what she saw there didn’t bother her at all.

Leaning on her elbow and leveling him with a look that was part teasing and part inspection, she asked, “Are you gonna sayanything?”

Maurice twisted his hands in his lap. “I don’t mean to be… silent.”

“Then what is it youmeanto be, Mo?”

He stared at his hands and whispered, “Careful.”

Before she could respond, servers arrived in a procession with plates piled high and steaming in the humid night.

The table erupted in laughter. Something Tommie said, probably. Maurice missed it, unable to track the conversation when his entire awareness centered on the woman beside him and the weight of her presence pulling at him like gravity.

Monique didn’t hesitate. She speared a piece of crispy fish, brought it to her mouth, and closed her eyes as she chewed. A small sound of satisfaction escaped her throat. Her tongue darted out to catch a crumb at the corner of her mouth.