Page 61 of Truth or Tequila (Grand Slam 1)

“Then the mountains, like The Rockies or Lake Tahoe—”

“You’ve thought about this.”

“Maybe,” I say, laughing.

“It probably starts snowing there in October.” He starts looking through my cabinets for plates. “I don’t love snow. Where should we go?”

“Yeah, where’s a good place in the fall?”

After he puts our plates of spaghetti on the island, he lifts me off the counter. It’s so intimate. I’m not sure he even notices, but I did.

“Actually, the Midwest is pretty in the fall,” he says as he refills my glass again. “Maybe we’ll go back and visit our families in the fall.”

“I’m not sure I can stay with my family for an entire season.”

“My parents have a vacation house on Lake Michigan. We can stay there and take day trips to visit our families. It’s beautiful in the fall. That’s where I go after the season to unwind a bit.”

“Sounds amazing,” I say. Like really amazing. Why does it feel like I’m planning my life with him? And why does it feel so perfect? “Then for the holidays, we might want snow.”

“Back to the mountains?” He walks to the refrigerator to grab another beer.

“No, maybe like Vermont or something,” I say, watching him closely. God, he’s beautiful. I’ve been trying not to notice that, but everything about him is beautiful. “Vermont would be pretty.”

“Vermont is really cold in the winter,” he says, pointing at me.

“We can snuggle.” I try to stop it from coming out of my mouth.

He spits out a little of his beer. “We can?” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, wow. I think that’s the wine talking. I’m a lightweight.”

“I remember.” His eyes are intense.

I want to crawl across the island and throw my body into his. I somehow hold myself back.

“Maybe I should call it a night before I do something stupid again.” I slip off the barstool and walk around to put my plate in the sink.

“I’ll clean up. I’m not tired yet,” he says, taking my plate from me. His eyes are searching mine for an invitation. I look down. “Do you need me to tuck you in again?”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

As I start to walk away, he puts his hand on my arm. He’s smiling when I look up at him—a sweet, gentle smile. “You’ve never done or said anything stupid to me—even that first night. You’re perfect.”

I take a quick breath in and nod. My mind’s completely blank. I can’t think of any reply that would be even close to adequate.

He squeezes my arm. “Goodnight, Sophie,” he says as he turns around and starts rinsing the plates.

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