Page 24 of The Texas Sterling Collection
I poured the wine. Rod took the glass and held it up to the light, gazing at it. Afterward, he swirled the wine in the glass before placing the rim under his nose and breathing in.
I sipped. It tasted fine, but my curiosity got the best of me. “I hate to ask lest I appear ignorant, but what are you doing?”
“Wyl, you will never appear, nor be, ignorant,” Rod said. “You're curious. Studies show curiosity connects with intelligence. And I hold the glass to the light to inspect the color and clarity. This wine has a dark ruby-red color, which is good. I swirl the wine to oxygenate it and release the aroma, then smell the bouquet, which leads up to the taste."
My admiration of Rod notched up about ten clicks. I always felt inadequate and inept around well-educated people. But Rod didn’t allow me to feel unworthy. Everything about him fascinated me. His wry sense of humor. His hunger to learn about Sterling Ranch. His openness, acceptance, and willingness to share. I gazed back into his eyes, wanting to say so much more than I should. I longed to dismiss all my insecurities and to be myself. Years of holding my orientation close to my vest remained hard to ignore, so I couldn’t. Not yet.
Rod took a sip. “Wow. A delight to the senses. Smooth and flavorful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
I set down my wine and picked up the bottle of blue cheese dressing. The unexpected scent of fresh lemon hit my nose. I glanced at Rod as he finished drawing his steak knife blade through the lemon flesh on one side. He squeezed the lemon, and juice flowed onto his salad. I wrinkled my nose. “I think lemon would make the salad sour."
“It's better with lemon,” Rod said. “The juice is natural. No fat, no calories, no salt, and no soybean oil. The tart juice accentuates the natural flavors of the greens and crisp vegetables. It’s not like bottled dressing, which tends to overpower the salad vegetables. I like it.” He picked up a small piece of lettuce from his plate and offered it to me. “Here, try it.”
Couples tried food from each other’s plates on TV. I realized I did what Rod did: compared television shows to real life. But as far as eating from the plate of another, I suppose friends do it too. Rod didn’t have a problem feeding me a morsel with his fingers, so I took it. The different flavors struck me, but. I also tasted the lettuce. I laughed and set the bottle aside. “Does one lemon have enough juice for two?”
Rod nodded. “Sure does.” He squeezed juice onto my salad.
I cut into my steak, shoved a piece into my mouth, and savored the grilled beef. “Now this is a flavor I'm familiar with,” I said with a cheek full of steak.
Rod sliced his steak and tried it. “Mmmmm…the steak is fantastic. I suppose your dad grilled steaks. Did you learn from him?”
“No. Dad didn’t let anyone near his grill. I spent a brief time in South America on assignment. The Brazilians have steak grilling down to an art. I learned from them, and the technique stayed with me.” Rod’s penetrating hazel eyes bored into my core and made my cock take interest.You stop looking at me, Rod Bonner. You’re affecting me in a way I didn’t expect. A way I like but don’t know how to deal with. The last time I let my feelings run free, Dusty threw my heart to the floor and stomped it with his boot. I can’t face a situation like that again.
“Your time in the Corps allowed you to experience the world. I’m impressed and a little envious.” Rod stuffed another bite into his mouth.
I sliced more steak. “I experienced the world, but without close friends. I left friendships out of my life, so you’re lucky. Besides interesting friends, you committed to a husband. I’m the one who is impressed.”
Rod paused and turned to me. “Remember the symphony concert? The restaurant we went to for dinner? Did you not ask me to be your friend? And did we not reinforce our friendship a few minutes ago when we bumped heads?”
I grinned, my cheek bulging with a bite of steak. “Yeah…we did, both times. Thank you. Walt made me realize how much I needed a friend.”
Conversation waned as we concentrated on the delicious meal. The 16-oz steaks left us both stuffed. Rod sat back and patted his stomach, glancing at me. “You cook a mean steak. Thanks for grilling tonight.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoy grilling steaks, and growing our beef improves the steak.”
“I always bought beef at the grocery store,” Rod said. “I never considered how the beef got to the meat counter.”
“Why do you think we raise cattle? They aren’t pets.” An adorable red flushed Rod’s cheeks. I hoped he never stopped blushing for me.And I needed to stop noticing. Or we somehow sneaked past the friendship line and headed into a relationship.
“Sorry. Now, it’s me who is ignorant. I never knew anyone who raised their own.”
I laughed and rapped my knuckles on Rod’s forehead. “Hello? Ranch? Cattle?”
Rod swiped at my hand. “Okay…I got it.”
I grinned at Rod. “We have a walk-in freezer attached to the garage. We can’t eat beef fast enough, and if we do run out, we have more on the hoof.”
“I might be a cattle moron, but I have experience with dirty dishes. Let’s clean these up.” Rod stood and grabbed his plate and silverware. “You promised to show me a few guitar techniques.”
“Yes, I did. Put your dishes in the sink. I’ll throw them in the dishwasher while you pour more wine and take the glasses to the coffee table. We can sit on the couch.” My chest tightened at the thought of teaching Rod guitar. Aside from the symphony concert, this was our first time together off campus. On campus, we obeyed our restrictions. But here, nobody is keeping an eye on us. Nobody to surprise us. Nobody to listen in on our conversations. In my head, dread warred with excitement. Did I know how to do this? Have we crossed into date territory and didn’t realize it?
Rod refilled each wine glass and carried them to the coffee table.
“Play me something,” I said over the hiss of running water as I rinsed the dishes.
“I wish.” Rod picked up his guitar. “You’ll be baffled at my inability.” Rod sat on the loveseat and eyed his fingers while plucking a string.
