Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(29)

Ellie waved to my mom and joined me at the table. As soon as she sat down, she took an elastic from around her wrist and gathered her reddish-brown hair into a ponytail. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Mia cornered me on the way out to make sure I know the tastings I have to cover for today. I don’t know why she thinks I have no brain. We went over the schedule yesterday. She’s so fucking type A, I don’t know how my dad deals with it.”

“No worries.” I took another sip of coffee.

“What’s wrong?” Her light brown eyes scrutinized my face.

“Nothing.”

“Nice try.” She tightened the ponytail and picked up her coffee. “If you don’t spill the tea, I’ll keep complaining about my mother. Is that what you want?”

I laughed a little. “I was just talking to my mom about Dex.”

“Does she know he saw you naked?” Her eyes gleamed wickedly over the rim of her cup.

“No. Apparently he and the girls were in here this morning looking for me.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head. “That’s interesting.”

“And she told me that Noami—his ex-wife—cuts her hair. So every six weeks she gets an earful about what a shitty husband he was.”

“That’s not cool.”

“No, but I suppose it could be true. I don’t really know him.”

“I guess not.”

“But . . . he seems nice.” I played with the handle on my coffee cup. “He came over last night and sat on the back patio for a bit.”

Ellie’s mouth fell open. “And?”

“And we talked.”

“And?”

“And I got to know him a little better,” I said, reluctant to give her the entire truth right up front. “He’s actually kind of funny and sweet beneath his grumpy exterior.”

One of her eyebrows peaked.

“And he loves those girls so much. He talked a little bit about feeling bad for being away so much when they were babies. He missed a lot of milestones.” I took another sip of coffee. “I think he wants to make up for that.”

“Sounds like a good guy so far,” she said. “How long did he stay?”

“Maybe half an hour? Just long enough to have a beer and share a cupcake.”

“You two shared a cupcake?” Her eyes twinkled again. “How romantic.”

“Not like that—I mean, we didn’t, like, feed each other bites or anything. We just . . . each ate half. And then he said goodnight and went home.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. Mostly.” I picked up my coffee and looked out the window.

“Winifred.” Ellie set her cup down and leaned onto the table with her elbows. “What happened between sharing the cupcake and saying goodnight?”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” I said quickly.

“What wasn’t?”

“He apologized right away.”

“Apologized for what?”

I held my breath for a second, then gave in. “For the kiss.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped. “There was a kiss?”

“There was one kiss.”

“And?” she demanded impatiently. “How was it?”

“So hot,” I said, fanning my face. “Like, really hot.”

Leaning back in her chair, she grinned slowly.

“What’s that smile?”

“It’s a victory smile, because I’m going to win the bet,” she said, her tone smug. “You made out with a hot dude, and you’ve got that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

“The look that says I can’t stay long, I have to go pick out a china pattern.”

“I do not have that look,” I argued, trying to arrange my face in a more casual expression. “He didn’t propose. He just kissed me. I’m perfectly capable of kissing a man without wanting to marry him.”

“Since when?”

I glared at her. “Anyway, it won’t happen again.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he apologized right afterward and left. Obviously he didn’t mean to do it.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t kiss someone by accident, Win. It’s not like stepping on their foot.”

“Whatever.” I waved a hand in the air, like a magic wand—like poof, he was out of my head. “It would never work anyway. He’s too old for me, he’s newly divorced, and I’m not really interested in dating someone with a lot of baggage. We’re just going to be friends.”

“If you say so.” Ellie picked up her cup again.

“I do,” I said emphatically. “And that’s that.”

After we finished our coffee and scones, Ellie and I took off on our power walk, a three-mile loop we’d been doing pretty much every Sunday morning all summer. As we huffed and puffed under the hot sun, we brainstormed different ideas for projects we could work on together.

“I love the idea of a joint wine tasting,” Ellie said. “Abelard and Cloverleigh make different enough wines that it could be really interesting.”

“Do you think a series or a one-time event would be better?”