Drunk on Love(7)

As they stepped out of the Barrel, they walked into a crowd of slightly rowdy tourists, complaining about Napa’s early last call. One guy got in Margot’s way, and she almost stumbled as she pushed past him. Luke put a hand on her back to steady her and then stepped in front of her. Margot didn’t even see how it happened, but the path in front of her cleared, and she followed him until they were around the corner from the Barrel. The tourists were now halfway down the street, still complaining.

“Thanks for that,” she said.

He shook his head and smiled at her.

“It was nothing.”

Okay, that was obviously her cue to say good night and walk home. Just as she opened her mouth to do that, Luke looked up at the sky.

“Up here in Napa, you see so many more stars than you do down in the city,” he said. “I always forget that.”

“You do,” she said. She looked up, too. “I miss a lot about living in a bigger city, but this is one of the things I love about living up here.”

They were silent for a moment as they stood close together, both staring up into the clear night sky, bright with stars.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked. She was still looking up, but she could tell, without even looking, that he’d moved closer to her. She looked at him. She liked that look in his eyes.

“Sure,” she said.

He took another step closer to her. It would be too close, if this were someone else, if this were a different night, if she hadn’t just spent two and a half hours wanting this, even as she’d pretended to herself that she hadn’t.

He leaned down, his lips close to her ear.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. His voice was low, warm, clear. He asked the question politely, but there was a rough edge to his voice. She liked both of those things, too.

His lips were so close to her ear that he could have kissed her there easily, without even moving. But he stopped, a hairbreadth away from her, and waited for her answer.

She turned toward him so they were face-to-face, eye to eye.

“Absolutely,” she said.

His lips were on hers immediately. His lips were soft, firm, demanding. He kissed her like his whole day had been leading up to this, like he’d been thinking about how to do it since she’d sat down next to him, like all he wanted in the world was to keep kissing her. He kissed her exactly how she wanted it.

They moved together, slowly backward, kissing the whole time, until she was pressed up against the side of the building. His hand stayed right where it was, at her waist, and she realized how much she wanted it to roam around her body. She wanted more than just this kiss. She wanted it all.

That’s when she forced herself to pull away.

“We can’t do this here,” she said. “Too many people know me around here.”

He dropped his hand and took a step back. She was gratified to see how fast he was breathing.

“Okay,” he said. “Sorry. I got carried away.” Then he smiled slowly. “Wait. Did you say here?”

She nodded.

“I thought you were an unusually good listener.” She stayed close to him. “You said you lived around here—how close? I’m four blocks that way.” She gestured down the street.

He put his hand on her back and turned her in the opposite direction.

“I’m two blocks this way.”

They didn’t talk as they walked those two blocks. What was there to say? They’d made all of the necessary small talk—and more—at the bar. They weren’t going back to his place for more conversation—they both knew that.

They kept their distance from each other—he dropped his hand from the small of her back, they were arm’s-length apart on the sidewalk, and anyone looking at them from a distance might think they weren’t even together.

But the air between them almost crackled. She was so aware of him—of the way he walked, long limbed, relaxed, but with purpose; of the way he glanced over at her every so often, a smile on his lips. Not that same smile from inside the bar, the friendly, interested one, but a smile of anticipation, one she could feel on her own face.

And God, she was aware of his body. At the bar, they’d been too deep in conversation for her to get a chance to look at him more than shoulders up. But after that kiss, after the way he’d touched her, after the way she’d touched him, she couldn’t stop looking at him—at his broad shoulders, long legs, firm chest. When they were at the bar, she’d noticed a little hair peeking out from under his shirt.

She wanted to see more.

“I’m this way,” he finally said. Thank God she’d asked him where he lived—she didn’t think she could have made it the four blocks to her place if these two blocks had felt so endless.

She followed him into a newish apartment building, and down the hall. Oh good, he was on the first floor. An elevator would have been too much for her.

He unlocked his door and she followed him inside. And then, before she could take another step, his arms trapped her against the door.

He smiled down at her. His eyes roamed over her body, and she felt herself flush under his gaze. She was glad he hadn’t looked at her like this at the bar. She wouldn’t have liked it then. She liked it now.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she said. Despite how fast they’d walked here, she was in no rush now, and she could tell he wasn’t, either. They’d both hurried to be here, to be alone together. They’d both known that once they’d made the decision to do this, they needed to get here as fast as possible. But now that they were here, they could slow down.