Page 51 of Love Unforgettable
She laughs. “It’sPinot Noir.”
“Pee-no Nawarr,” I repeat.
“Perfect,” she says. Somehow, I doubt that, but I’m going to let her humor me, so I feel a little better about myself. Selecting wine for a woman you are trying to impress is an incredibly humbling process.
She follows me outside while I put the steaks on the grill. “Ohmigod, if this were my yard, I’d never want to leave,” she says.
“I accept,” I say.
“You accept what?” she asks.
“I accept your proposal. I will make this your yard, you’ll never leave, and we will live happily ever after.” I wink to show I’m kidding even though I’m not. She laughs. A big laugh. The kind that’s not so good for a man’s ego when he wasn’t making a joke.
“You’re funny,” she says after a minute. But in that way where I’m not sure it was a compliment.
* * *
Our conversation through dinner stays light, easy, and a little flirty. When I give her a tour of the house, she lets me hold her hand. Lexie loves the house, which makes me beyond happy, and when I suggest a nightcap by the firepit outside, she says yes. We stretch out on a double lounger, her with a blanket and me on my own. But she snuggles close, holds my left hand in her right, and rests her head on my shoulder.
I breathe a big sigh of content; pretty sure I could stay like this forever.
“You like me, don’t you?” she asks.
“I do,” I admit.
“Why is it so easy for you to just admit it like that?”
“I’m just statin’ a simple fact, sweetness. It does me no good to lie about it or play games with you.” I don’t tell her yet that she’s my lightning bolt. I fear that would scare her away at this point in our not-quite-a-relationship.
“I should probably tell you that there’s a guy,” she says.
I feel my stomach bottom out and my blood run cold. Until I realize she must be referring to the veterinarian that Mavis doesn’t like. Except, in all truth, knowing that does little to make me feel better. It’s still competition, and he’s in my way.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly, wondering where she’s going to go with this.
“He’s been my ex twice now,” she sighs.
“As in you’ve broken up twice and gotten back together?” I clarify.
“Yes,” she says. “Only the second time it wasn’t so much that we broke up as it was that he just left without a word.”
“He left you?”
She nods.
“Without a word?”
She nods again.
“Why?” I can’t help but ask.
She lifts her head and shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. But now he’s coming back, and he says he wants to be with me and I don’t know what to do.”
“Because he’s hurt you before?”
“Yes. And, I don’t think I trust him.”
“That’s tough,” I say, then I lift our hands and kiss the back of hers.
“You know, I like you too,” she says with a sigh, laying her head back on my shoulder.
My inner self roars in triumph with fists raised and legs pumping doing an end zone victory dance.
Then she crushes me.
“But I think I love him.”
