Page 33 of Tame Me

His eyes bulged. “Right. Well, we need to fix that. You drink wine, right?”

“Yep.” Lolita nodded, all serious.

“White or red?”

“Both, but mostly white.”

Frankie held up his finger, turned his back to us, and moments later returned with a plastic cup for each of us. “Here’s yours, Jane. The Frisky Filly, right?”

I loved that he remembered and couldn’t help smiling. “That’s correct.”

I took the drink he’d handed me and sipped. Once again, I was pleasantly delighted with the crisp, fresh taste.

Lolita accepted the cup offered by Frankie, but by the look on her face she was reluctant to even taste it.

“Try it,” Frankie and I said at exactly the same time, and we laughed together.

Lolly alternated her gaze from me to Frankie, and when a mischievous twinkle sparkled in her eyes, I stopped laughing for fear of what she was about to say or do. She winked at me, and I knew I was in for trouble.

Lolita raised the plastic cup and sniffed it as if it were an expensive wine. I found myself bracing as she took a sip. She screwed up her face, and I laughed because I was pretty sure that was similar to my reaction yesterday.

“Ewww. Okay, see? Beer’s not my thing.”

“Wait.” Frankie showed her his palm. “We haven’t finished yet. That’s my benchmark beer; from here, I’ll be able to work out which way to go.”

Lolly put the cup down and pushed it toward him. “I’ve tried plenty of beers, but I don’t like it.”

“You haven’t tried mine.” His tongue glossed his lips, and the simple move mesmerized me more than it should have. “Answer me, quick—fish or beef?”

“Fish.”

“Olives or grapes?”

“Olives.” She grinned at me, and as I smiled back at her, I found myself intrigued by her answers.

“Lemon or honey?”

“Hmmm . . .”

“Quick,” Frankie urged.

“Okay, lemon.”

He turned away again and returned with another plastic cup filled with a liquid that was paler than the first.

She smiled as she sipped this time, and I tried to take in both her reaction and Frankie’s. His fabulous green eyes were intense, as if willing her to like his beer. He grabbed his beard and tugged on it. His hands were tanned, his fingers thick and manly, and he wore no rings.

Yay me. Without a doubt, I’d be seeing Frankie later.

“Mmmm.” Lolly licked her lips. “That’s not bad.”

Frankie’s shoulders slumped. “Not bad isn’t good enough.” He turned again. “I’ll get you to try this one.”

He handed over another sample, and Lolly seemed eager to taste this one.

“This’s called Wild Stampede.” Frankie splayed his fingers on the counter and leaned forward as if determined not to miss a word Lolly said. His lovely green eyes flicked to me, and when he blinked, I noticed how long his eyelashes were.

My heart fluttered. Frankie may be a little scruffy, and he was nowhere near as buff as all the other men in the room, but I could barely take my eyes off him. Maybe it was his passion for his work. Maybe it was his fascinating green eyes. Maybe it was the genuineness about him. Frankie didn’t seem to be trying to be anyone but Frankie.

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