The Words We Leave Unspoken(31)

All these thoughts bounce around in my head as I try to calm my unexpected nerves about the evening. Grey is picking me up in a few minutes to take me to dinner. I have changed my clothes three times already. I want to look nice but not too nice. I don’t want to send the wrong message. I don’t want this to feel like a date, even though that’s exactly what this is. I settle for a simple cotton black sheath dress with heeled booties. I pull my hair into a messy bun and finish the look with the right accessories. I admire myself in the mirror. Sexy but edgy. I throw my phone and tiny wallet into a clutch purse and down a glass of wine to drown my nerves. I hate waiting on someone. I should have met him at the restaurant. After a lipstick touch up, he finally knocks on my door. And I am suddenly nervous as hell.

I open the door and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. Dammit, he is breathtaking. Grey is wearing jeans and a dark button down shirt, untucked. His hair is still damp and I can smell his familiar clean, woodsy scent.

“Wow, Charley. You look incredible.”

“Thank you,” I say and I can feel my cheeks heat under his intense gaze. “Do you want to come in?” I ask. I’m not sure how this whole thing works; this is all new for us.

“Actually, I have a full night planned, so we better head out,” he says with a smile.

“Okay,” I say, feeling unsettled and then I mumble, “I don’t know whether I should feel excited or scared.”

“Maybe both,” he teases as I grab my clutch and step out on the porch, locking the door with my key. Grey offers me his arm and I loop my arm in his, thankful for his warmth as we step out into the chilly night. It hasn’t rained all day, which is a small gift this time of year. Grey leads me to his flashy car and opens the door for me like a true gentleman.

“My lady,” he says as he helps me into the passenger seat and closes the door. I watch him round the front of the car and climb into the driver’s seat and I remind myself to breathe. It’s just Grey, I tell myself.

“So where are we going?” I ask while I pull my seatbelt across my lap and fasten it into place.

He shakes his head and says, “And ruin the surprise. No way.”

“Surprise? I thought we were just two people sharing a meal, remember?” I’m intrigued now and loving his playful side, but my nerves are still balled up in my chest from the unknown.

“We are. Just relax. I promise I’m not going to propose,” he says with a smile and then turns and winks at me.

And dammit if that doesn’t make my stomach do a little flip as a full-watted smile stretches across my face. It’s refreshing to know that Grey gets me and maybe his expectations aren’t what I fear them to be.

He pulls into a valet-only parking lot just to the southeast of Pioneer Square. The valet attendant opens my door and I step out of the car as Grey pulls me into his side and guides me down the sidewalk, around the corner and into an old bar. I didn’t catch the name, but it’s old and sports-themed and Grey seems to know his way around as he leads me to the long bar in the back.

We sit in two empty bar stools and the mid-thirties bartender with dark hair and a matching beard immediately walks toward us, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Hey G!” he says, reaching out and shaking Grey’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in awhile.” He looks at me and asks, “Who’s the pretty lady?”

“James, this is Charley. Charley meet James. The best damn bartender in Puget Sound.”

“Nice to meet you, James,” I say and give him a little wave.

“Any friend of G’s is a friend of mine. What can I get you?”

James looks and talks like your typical bartender and I smile at the way he calls Grey “G”.

“Two shots of tequila,” Grey says, holding up two fingers. James nods and steps away.

I turn to Grey and say, “If I didn’t know any better, G, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me.”

“All part of the plan.” He places his hand on my bare leg and spins my stool until my body is facing his. He leans in and kisses me on the mouth. My body instantly flushes with heat and when he pulls away I discreetly look around to see if anyone is watching us. PDA is really not my thing; I like to keep it behind closed doors.

James sets two full shot glasses down on the bar in front of us, along with a plate of limes and a salt shaker.

Without taking his eyes off me, Grey says to James, “Keep ‘em coming.”

I look at him, puzzled.

He hands me a shot glass and asks, “Salt?”

I shake my head and he picks up his shot glass. We are sitting close, our faces nearly touching and Grey says quietly, “This is to loosen you up. And it’s not because I want to take advantage of you, although that will come later. If you’re lucky.” His smile sets my insides on fire. “It’s because I want to get to know you, Charley. So cheers,” he says as he clinks his glass against mine. We both raise our glasses to our lips and I pour the tequila to the back of my throat, feeling the burn. I set my empty shot glass down at the same time as Grey and grab a slice of lime. The sour taste erasing the flavor of the tequila just as James sets a fresh set of full shot glasses on the bar.

“Jeez, Grey. I’m not sure how many of these I can drink,” I say, already dreading the next shot and the inevitable hangover it will bring.