Drunk on Love(73)

Granted, she checked her phone more than once, but he’d expected that.

“Speaking of that first night, which we were an hour ago,” he said, when they were on the way, “I’ve been wondering. Were you ever going to text me?”

He felt her eyes on him, but he didn’t look at her. He knew she would tell him the truth either way, but it might be easier if he wasn’t looking at her.

“I hadn’t decided,” she said. “I mean, I was still deciding, when you and Elliot walked into my office.” He waited. He knew she wasn’t done. “But probably not.”

“Why not?” He looked out at the vineyards lining the roads, forced himself not to look at her, tried not to care too much about her answer.

“That night was—talk about taking a break—that night was the first time in a long time I felt like I had a real break. I had a great time with you, but it was more than that. I didn’t think about the winery the whole time we talked at the bar, that whole time at your apartment, not until morning. And you were so . . . The whole night just felt perfect. And I didn’t want to spoil it. To text you and have you never text me back, or for you to end up being an asshole, or not actually like me, once you got to know me. So. That’s why I was leaning against it.”

He wanted to respond to everything she said, argue for past Luke and why she should have texted him, but he pulled himself back.

“Then I’m especially glad that you left Elliot in charge at the winery that day.”

She grinned at him.

“How long do you think you’ll be at the inn, anyway?”

He shrugged.

“Depends on how quickly my mom gets better. At least another few weeks, maybe a month.” He sighed. “After that, I suppose I’ll have to look for a real job.” He grinned at her. “Maybe I can come back to the winery? I miss being around you all day.”

She just laughed at that.

He knew that as soon as his mom was better, he would have to look for a real job. Life had been far too easy for the past few months. Too easy and too fun. He’d slept a lot, watched a lot of sports, worked at jobs that he’d enjoyed, and had a whole lot of great sex. But he knew this wasn’t real life.

He was dreading going to another toxic, stressful place where he would wake up every morning depressed about going to work. At least he thought he could count on Craig for a good reference.

They stopped on the way to the beach—first at a bakery to get coffee and pastries, and then, when they were closer to the beach, at a deli to get sandwiches and snacks. They didn’t talk as much on the drive, not like that long drive from a few weeks ago, where they’d talked the whole time, but this time he knew he could touch her, knew he could kiss her, like he’d wanted to that other time. When he reached over and took her hand, she slid her fingers through his and rested both of their hands together on her bare knee. A little while later, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She stayed like that, still holding tight to his hand, for a while.

She opened her eyes when they slowed to a stop in traffic, and looked over at him.

“I haven’t been doing a good job of entertaining you, have I?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t need entertaining. You seem like you needed a rest.”

She pushed her hair back from her face with her free hand.

“Yeah. I guess so. It’s not that—” She sighed. “I love the winery, I do. But planning for this party is a lot. I was probably too ambitious, to do it this quickly, and with the budget I had.”

He shook his head.

“The party is going to be great. And you don’t have to tell me you love the winery. I’m not going to think you don’t love it because you need a break from it.”

“I guess I just feel defensive about it,” she said. “Maybe I also feel like I shouldn’t need a break from it if I love it. Elliot doesn’t seem to.”

“You’re not Elliot,” he said. “You don’t have to be.”

“Thanks.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad we did this today.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the beach yet,” he said.

She smiled.

“I know. I’m still glad.”



* * *





THEY GOT TO THE beach just before eleven. They got one of the last parking spots in the lot, but the beach wasn’t too crowded. Luke carried their food and drinks, Margot carried the blankets and her tote bag, and they made their way from the parking lot down onto the sand. She lay the oldest of the blankets she’d brought along with her out on the sand, and then they set up the food and her bag and their shoes at the corners.

She really shouldn’t have taken a day off today, not with the party only two weeks away, and the tourist season in full bloom, and so much to do. But she’d been so touched by that look on Luke’s face when he’d said he wanted to spend the whole day with her. And when he’d said it was his birthday, there was no way she could say no. It was his birthday, and he wanted to spend it with her. And she wanted to spend it with him.

She’d looked at his birth date on his employment forms his first day, just to see how old he was, but she hadn’t remembered today was his birthday. She felt bad about that, for a moment. But back then, she hadn’t had any reason to remember the date.