Page 89 of Drunk on Love

“I wouldn’t help you move, I’d just buy you an enormous amount of fried chicken and let you watch all the bad movies you wanted.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean they’re bad, you know.”

Avery opened her mouth to respond, when his mom came in through the front door.

“Luke! Oh, and Avery! So lovely to see you!” She looked from Luke to Avery and beamed.

Oof. It felt even weirder now for his mom to think he and Avery were together.

“Mom, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at home, resting.”

She looked around the lobby. He knew she was making sure it was as clean and well organized as she usually kept it.

“I know, I know, but I hadn’t left the house all week, so I got Pete to bring me along with him in the car today when he had to stop by a client’s, and it was nearby, so I just thought I’d come in and say hi!” She turned to Avery. “It’s so good to see you, Avery. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing really well, Ms. Williams—Lauren,” Avery said. “I was so sorry to hear about your accident, but I’m glad it looks like you’re healing okay. And thanks again, for sending that couple my way for the wedding—it’s been a real pleasure to work with them so far.”

His mom smiled at Avery and then raised her eyebrows at him. Was she expecting him toproposeto Avery?Oh God.

“Of course, of course, I was glad to be able to do it. They seemed like such a nice couple,” she said to Avery.

Avery picked up her drink.

“I have to run—I was just driving by and stopped in to say hi, but I have a lunch meeting coming up. Talk to you soon, Luke.”

He nodded at her.

“Talk to you soon.”

His mom beamed at him when Avery walked out.

“So... things are going well there?”

It had been easy, up until now, to pretend to his mom that he was dating Avery. But after the past few days with Margot, after leaving her bed this morning and thinking about her all day andtelling Avery that he actually really liked Margot, it felt impossible to seem even a tiny bit interested in any other woman.

But he couldn’t confess everything to his mom now. She was injured, and stressed about the inn. He didn’t want her to be upset about his job, too. And plus, like he’d said to Avery, he still didn’t know how long this thing with Margot was going to last.

“Yeah, Mom,” he said, looking down at the computer. “Things are going well there.”

Why did he feel so guilty when he said that?

LUKE SPENT THE NIGHTat Margot’s house every night that week. Margot knew they should hold off, that they should take breaks from each other, that she shouldn’t let herself get too attached too fast, but every morning when he left he said,See you later?and every time she said,Yes, see you later. She couldn’t help herself. She liked him, she liked everything about him. She liked the way he asked her questions about her day and listened, really listened, to her answers; she liked the stupid jokes he cracked when he could tell something had gotten her in a bad mood; she liked the way he smiled at and chatted with their waitress at the burger place they went to on Thursday night after work; she liked the huge tips he left, without calling attention to them; she liked the way he talked about his mom, exasperated but loving.

And she liked—she really liked—the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her, the way he touched her. Like she was the only person he’d ever looked at in that way, like he’d been waiting all day to talk to her, like the ability to touch her, to kiss her, was a privilege.

But every night? She had to stop this. It was too fast. She wouldget sick of him, or he would get sick of her, more likely. She decided this on Thursday, on Friday, on Saturday, all during the day at work, but every night right when she was about to leave the winery, he would text her, or she would text him, and he would be waiting at her door when she got home.

On Sunday, she decided for sure. They’d both been working hard all week, not sleeping enough; they probably both needed a break from each other.

No, they definitely did. Plus, she hadn’t been by the Barrel in way too long. She would go, sit at the bar, talk to Sydney. And then she’d go home and get work done—she still had so much to do for the party, so many tiny details to figure out so it would be perfect. She could see Luke Monday. Or even Tuesday. This thing between them couldn’t last too long; she didn’t want herself to get too attached. Luke was only up here in Napa Valley temporarily, she knew that. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, she assumed. She would still enjoy the hell out of this as long as she could, obviously. But she didn’t want to make it into something it wasn’t.

She didn’t text him before she left the winery that night. She didn’t even check her phone. She parked at her house, walked over to the Barrel, and slid into her regular seat at the corner of the bar.

“Excuse me?” she said to Sydney’s back. “Can I get some service over here?”

Sydney turned around and gave her a wide smile.

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