Chapter Thirteen
Ella pressed her palms against the smooth leather of the car seat. Then she moved her hands beneath her jean-clad thighs. And considered running the entire multiplication tables in her head. Anything to soothe her jitters. Anything to distract her from a serious case of first-date-itis. That horrible mix of nausea, dry mouth, sweaty palms and rapid heartbeat that felt like the flu crossed with a minor pulmonary embolism. She didn’t know if men were immune, but women were struck down by it all the time. The only cure? Surviving the first date and moving on to a second.
She looked over at Gray. Took in his tousled hair, chiseled profile, and looked away again before suggesting they pull over and make out in the car like teenagers. Stared instead at the familiar landscape of fields and trees off to the right. “Where do you usually take women on a first date?”
“Whoa. Flag on the play.” He even threw in a long beep of the horn to drive home his point. “You can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Ask about other women.” Gray shook his head. “That’s not standard first-date material. That’s a conversational minefield couples try to avoid as long as possible.”
Whoops. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She tipped her head back against the headrest. Closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation of the wind whipping through the convertible. “You realize that makes me want to know even more. It’ll probably be the only thing I think about all night.”
“I’m not falling for it.”
“For what?” The car slowed, paused, turned. Ella didn’t open her eyes yet. She wanted to be wholly surprised when they arrived at their mystery destination. Gray’s choice of location for their first official date would reveal the kind of man he was. Sports bar equaled sports addict. Movie theatre indicated an utter lack of imagination. A super-fancy restaurant would say he was trying to impress her. And the local no-tell motel would just announce that he didn’t want to risk the maid walking in on them when they finally had sex.
“Your lame attempt at reverse psychology,” said Gray. “I don’t believe for a second that you’ll be unable to fully interact with me on this date just because I dodged your first question.”
“It’s possible. I can be very single-minded.” The car rolled to another stop. Sounded like it was on gravel. Ella tried to remember how many restaurants had gravel lots. And promptly came up with nothing. Who noticed if a parking lot was pavers or asphalt or gravel? More to the point, who cared?
“I’m insulted. Seriously. You ought to give me more credit.”
“About what?”
“My ability to focus all that single-mindedness on something else. This may be our first date, Ella, but it isn’t my first date. I know what I’m doing. I know how to show you a good time. How to focus your mind with the precision of a laser.”
Her eyes flew open as he drew a finger across the thin slice of her stomach exposed between her jeans and her lacy white tank. Ella wanted to look down, but was snared in his burning blue gaze mere inches from her. Back and forth went his finger. Slowly. Maddeningly slow. “Kiss me,” she demanded.
“No. Not yet.”
A breathy laugh escaped her. “Then stop teasing me.”
“No. Not yet.” Gray pushed a finger into one of the wide stitches in her hot pink crocheted cardigan. Tugged it off her shoulder. Traced a squiggly line from her collarbone up her neck to her ear, then back across to her shoulder. All this while still keeping up that slow and steady rhythm across her stomach. Ella couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t so much as twitch. At the same time, she desperately wanted to squirm about until his hands met somewhere in the middle.
“Are you ready for the first stop on our date now?” he asked.
So ready. Ready, truth be told, since that first afternoon she’d ogled him through the window as he jogged by. “Yes.”
“Do you give a rat’s ass about where I’ve been on other first dates?”
“No.”
“Then let’s get on with it.” Gray removed his hands and got out of the car. “I’ll save my I told you so for later. I don’t want to spoil the moment by gloating.”
“You’re a real charmer,” she said as he circled around to her door.
“You mock me now, but I’ll bet your tune changes soon.” Gray opened the door and took her hand to help her out. “Here we are.”
It took Ella another second to shake off the tingles still fuzzing her brain. Or maybe it was surprise dulling her reaction. Because she stood in the parking lot of Cosgrove General, utterly befuddled. And she had no intention of politely trying to hide her confusion.
“You think this is an appropriate first date? What are we going to do—shop for Seneca Lake travel mugs and fill up on fudge?”
“Again, your lack of faith in me is appalling. Insulting. It may very well impact the awesomeness of the after-date necking I had planned.” Gray took her hand and led her across the road. To the mailbox. “I know you said you’d be fine going out with me no matter how the town voted in the journal. But I also know you’d feel a lot better if they did give us a green light. So I figured we’d swing by and check it out.”
Thoughtful. Romantic. Full of understanding and patience for this quirky tradition that he mocked but knew meant so much to her. Ella’s heart didn’t just fall. It tumbled. This man got her. In all the important ways. He’d made tonight oh-so personal and special with a gesture she’d never expected.
Then a niggle of suspicion sent her—as fast as she could go across grass in sky-high pink patent leather wedges—bolting in front to cut him off. “Did you pre-peek?”
“Nope. This visit’s kind of a crap shoot.” Gray sidestepped her and kept going.
She walked backwards, wanting to see his face as he answered. “What if the town gives the two of us a thumbs-down?”
“Well, you did already commit to tonight, no matter what.”
“And I’m sticking to that plan,” she reassured him. Gray still looked calm. Not at all tense about what the journal would reveal or her reaction to it. Actually, what he looked was movie-star handsome in that tan sport coat over a crisp white shirt open at the neck to reveal a tuft of dark chest hair.
“But I’m a pretty nice guy. Hit it off with most of the people I’ve met here. I’m not worried about what it says.”
Neither was Ella. Not much. Not that she’d admit, anyway. They scrambled up the slight slope to the clearing. Ella sat on the bench while Gray retrieved the journal. He hitched up his darker tan trousers and sat next to her. Instead of opening it, he raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Ready?”
She nodded. “Ready to spend tonight with you, no matter what’s in here.”
“In that case, we can leave now, without even looking at it.”
Ella grabbed the journal from him and quickly flipped to the page with their questions. Used her finger to skim down one page, another, and then a third.
“Well?” he asked, impatience snipping the word harshly.
Aha. So Gray was curious. It’d be fun to draw this out a bit. Keep him guessing. Ella tilted the journal away from him. “Apparently you took the last Irish cream brownie at Cosgrove’s two days ago. Snatched it right out from under Hank Mitchell. So he’s pretty steamed at you. Thinks you’re too selfish to date any woman, let alone me.”
“Seriously?” He plowed his hand through his dark hair. “It’s not like the man tried to wrestle me for it. I was ahead of him in line.”
“Small towns can lead to deep grudges,” she intoned solemnly.
A wince. One that made her regret her offhand comment. “Don’t I know it.”
It wouldn’t be good to make him spiral back through memories of his horrible hometown. She’d stop teasing and get this date back on track. “The good news is that Hank’s in the minority. Overall the town is in favor of both me dating in general, as well as me dating you, specifically.”
“Whew. You had me sweating it there for a minute.” Gray whipped out a handkerchief and pretended to mop his brow. “I need an ego boost. Show me one of the good ones.”
Before she could stop him, he’d pulled the journal onto his lap and started reading. It didn’t take long for his brow to furrow. “These aren’t all about us dating. There’s more than a dozen complaints in here about your moving the party.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Exactly why Ella hadn’t wanted him to look. This was also not a light-hearted, sexy or fun first-date topic. All they needed now was a raincloud to open up directly above them. Maybe the whole of idea of trying to capture the magic of a first date after fourteen—because of course she’d been counting every breakfast, dinner, yoga and smooching encounter they’d shared—almost nonstop, official not-dates was stupid. Impossible.
Now they knew each other. Ella and Gray had spent more actual time together than most new couples did in six weeks. They’d started off by sharing deep, dark secrets. By baring their fears and inner demons. And they’d tantalizingly, almost had sex. The fizzy effervescence of a first date was like the swirl of vapor that escaped from a champagne bottle when the cork popped. Gone in an instant.
He stabbed a finger at the thick paper. “They’re really up in arms about this. Leona Miller called you an upstart little twit.”
“Mmm-hmm.” So now, instead of trying to seduce her, Gray had slapped on his serious face. Was probably about to launch into a buck up, little camper type speech. So what if he rocked at them? Ella wanted—no, deserved—a night full of glances that tried to peer down her boosted-up cleavage. A night where they laughed, and laughed some more. A frothy night, not an angsty, issues-debating night.
“I’m sorry, Ella.” His voice was low, earnest. The furrows in his brow seemed way too deep to be caused by a handful of pissed-off partygoers. Gray looked about two hundred percent more upset than she was. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re hurting.”
His grim seriousness was the equivalent of dumping prune juice into her champagne. Nobody wanted that. She elbowed him in the ribs. “Geez, Gray, you didn’t do anything. This was my decision. Get over yourself.”
A pause. Then he firmed his lips and tried again. “I don’t want your friends to be this mad at you.”
“Don’t worry. My friends aren’t. My friendly acquaintances…well, that’s another story. People need to vent. If they get it all out in the pages of the journal instead of unloading on me at work? I’d call that a good thing.”
“What about the name-caller?”
“Leona Miller says nasty things behind everyone’s back to everyone else. We’re all used to it. But she also delivers meals, free of charge, to people who have a family member in hospice care. Says she got so used to cooking for her six sons that once they left, she just couldn’t stop. She’s got a heart as big as the lake. So we put up with her sniping.”
“Sounds like it won’t be much of a party any more, though.”
“Are you kidding?” She dragged the journal back onto her lap. Scanned the entries once more. “Every one of these people has already RSVP’d yes. I told you. They’re just venting. We’ll have a great party. A blowout, like last year and all the years before it.”
He looked at her, confusion squinting his eyes. Then he gave a hoarse laugh and shook his head, turning to stare out at the lake. “This is an…unusual place you live in, Ella.”
Maybe. But it was all she knew, so it just felt normal. It was home. “We’re like one big family. We might squabble, but deep down our affection never wavers.”
“Like I said—unusual.”
“How about we go back to the usual? The usual first-date stuff, that is.” Jumping up, she stuffed the journal back in the mailbox and slammed the door. She didn’t want him to hang out here any longer looking for responses to his job question. They could talk about that at dinner.
“You mean the usual things like getting all nervous and tongue-tied around a pretty girl?” Gray teased as he took her hand and swung it between them while they walked back to the car.
“Please. You’ve never been tongue-tied a day in your life. You’re so sure of yourself. You know exactly what you want. Exactly how to get it. I’ll bet you’re never at a loss for words.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Ella pondered that as they resumed their drive along the lake’s edge. The gentle roll of vineyards, of tied branches along twine, just leafing out fully, mimicked the up and down of her thoughts. Gray had divulged his big, life-changing secret to her. It hadn’t been a walk in the park, but he’d been able to spit it out. So what was left? What situation could possibly leave him speechless? Was there still a dark cloud of pain or uncertainty that he hadn’t shared with her? And if so, why not?
Gray turned off the radio. Took her hand and slid his fingers through hers. “Let’s call the mailbox the overture. The prologue. Batting practice. Our first date officially begins now.”
Ella took in the massive red-tiled, Italianate building in front of them. “You brought me to a winery?”
“That’s what the Finger Lakes is famous for, right?”
Ah. So he had listened to her tour-guide-esque spiel about the area. Or maybe it was osmosis. Prattle on long enough, and at least a little is bound to sink in, right? “Sure. But we’ve got more than thirty wineries around Seneca Lake alone. Sixteen more around Keuka Lake and another twenty-three on Cayuga Lake. How on earth did you choose Ventosa Winery?”
“I did my research.”
Laughter gurgled out of her. Ella almost tripped stepping onto the sidewalk. “You mean you sampled an average of six varieties at all thirty-six wineries? Then moved on to the next lake? You must’ve had the mother of all hangovers for the last week.”
One of his jet-black eyebrows arched up. Kind of matched his know-it-all sneer. “A good researcher doesn’t do all the legwork himself.”
Nope. He was too cocky. And she saw right through him. “Let me guess. You asked Ward.”
A sheepish shrug. “He knows the area.” Then, an assertive jut to his jaw. “He knows you, what you like. Ward said this is one of your favorite spots.”
“It is. I celebrated my twenty-first birthday here. Had my very first legal glass of wine. My parents went overboard, of course. They put wine into every single course. Wine-soaked figs for an appetizer. Red-wine risotto with the entrée. And, of course, a raspberry and champagne soufflé.”
“Does it make you sad to remember?”
She stared at the stone pillars flanking the steps where her family had posed for pictures. All of them holding wine glasses etched with the number twenty-one in flowing script. Suddenly Ella wanted to go back to her parent’s house, dig through the cupboards and unearth those glasses.
“No. It was a great night. I’m looking forward to making another magical memory here with you, tonight.”
Gray goggled at her as he opened the big glass door. “You want me to compete with the awesomeness of a twenty-first birthday party?”
She gave him a sidelong glance as she whisked inside. “I think you’re a man who’ll rise to the occasion.”
“Damn straight. Besides, what could be more romantic than sipping wine and ignoring the sunset over the lake because I’m staring at you?”
Oh my. Just like that, the fizziness was back. Her heels clattered against the terra-cotta tiles as Gray led her straight through the large tasting room, threading through racks of wine bottles and past bistro tables crowded with swish-and-sippers, to the wide terrace. It overlooked a strip of the vineyard, and then looked west across Seneca Lake. The perfect sunset vantage point.
He pulled out a black, wrought iron chair full of fanciful curlicues and seated her. Then she noticed their table was the only one with flowers. A dozen roses with white petals tipped in the same hot pink as her outfit speared out of a vase with a satin bow around its neck. And a single long-stemmed rose lay on the table. Gray picked it up and brushed it along her cheek.
“The whole point of dating is getting to know each other. We may have been coming at it every which way but straight on—but the truth is that we’ve been dating since that first night on your stairs. Doesn’t matter what the town thinks. You know it and I know it.”
“You’re right.”
“Sneaking around is its own fun.” His dark eyebrows drew together into a frown. “Still, I know I’ve let you down.”
Ella reached up to grab the hand holding the rose. “Gray, no. I’ve loved spending time with you.”
“Right back at you, beautiful.” He dropped a kiss on the back of her hand, then twisted out of her grip. “But let me go on, okay? Men aren’t exactly known for admitting when they’re wrong. So you’d better savor this moment.”
“Alright.” She gave a slow, princess half wave at him. “Continue to list the ways in which you’ve wronged me.”
“Joke all you want. I’m dead serious. I’ve done nothing special for you so far.”
Men could be so literal. So he hadn’t sent her flowers or given her chocolate. Gray had given her far, far greater gifts in their time together. Ella puffed out her cheeks with a slow sigh. “You’re right. You’ve only reignited my spirit and my independence. What a thoughtless slacker of a non-date you’ve been.”
He softly batted the tip of her nose with the rose. “Pay attention. I’m semi-groveling here. We’ve spent all this time together, but I haven’t taken the time to treat you with the care you deserve. To make you feel special. Tonight, everything changes.”
“Everything? You mean I should’ve worn the good underwear?”
“Sweetheart, I’d prefer no underwear where you’re concerned.”
It was a sexy thought. One that made her knees part just a little. Even though she’d just paid a ridiculous amount of money to overnight an order from Victoria’s Secret after their tryst beneath the waterfall.
“But if you recall,” he continued, “tonight is our first date. I know you’re not the kind of woman who goes all the way on date number one.”
True. At least, it had been true in the past. Didn’t mean it still held true. She’d already proven herself to be somewhat of a rule breaker when it came to Gray. “I’d make an exception for you.”
His gaze heated up, as though she’d just put a match to his inner pilot light. Then he stroked the rose ever so slowly along the edge of her lower lip. “Good. Because I’m making one hell of an exception for you.”
Before she could ask him what that cryptic statement referred to, a waiter appeared. There was a few minutes bustle of setting up a silver wine bucket by their table, the ritual of uncorking with a flourish the bottle with the pale green label and their signature logo of a tree blowing in the wind. Gray accepted the tasting pour. Swirled and sniffed it with an ease and confidence that proclaimed him no novice to wine tasting. At his nod, the waiter filled their glasses and left with promises to return soon to top them off.
“This is a Pinot Gris. Something light to kick off the evening. Delicate in style, but with a flavor that’s lush with a hint of wildness. In other words, this wine is you, Ella.” Gray picked up his glass. Tilted it to catch the sun in the pale yellow liquid, so pale it matched not the rind, but the pith of a lemon. “I could toast to the start of something new. Or to our first official date. I could even be a cocksure son of a bitch, wink, and toast to our second official date.”
Ella raised her glass. “How about we say all of the above?”
“No. Those are all about us. Tonight’s all about you.” He raised his glass. “To an exceptional, and exceptionally beautiful, woman.” They clinked glasses, the sound round and full and clear, seeming to echo straight out over the lake.
She took a quick sip, then another. The cool melon and peach flavors slipped down as smoothly as Gray’s compliments. A girl could get used to being treated so well. And then, in a flash, Ella remembered that she couldn’t get used to it at all. That her time with Gray came with a ticking clock, due to expire in all-too-few days. Casey and Piper had been right. She wasn’t in the market for a fling. Even now, the thought of him leaving clenched her stomach into a knot.
Although…who’s to say they couldn’t keep seeing each other after his vacation ended? Or would that turn her into a horrible, clingy woman? The kind who were sure that their unique brand of caring could change their man. Reform his roaming ways. Or his sports addiction. Worse yet, those pathetic women who swore that given time, they could turn a newly gay man back to playing for the opposite team. Ella and her friends always had mocked those desperate, grabbing women. Pitied the men they’d set their sights on. Horror of horrors, was she turning into one of them?
Could it really hurt, though, to find out a little more about Gray? That was the point of a first date. Sharing all the basic information they’d so blithely ignored over the past seven days. Maybe she’d discover he led a life conducive to long-distance romance. Or maybe they’d just share some wine and some laughs and check this damn date off the list so they could rip each other’s clothes off. Either way was a win in her book. At least, that’s what she had to keep telling herself.
“I read a few other things in the journal tonight,” Ella said in a leading tone.
Gray leaned back, kicked his long legs out in front and crossed them at the ankles. The picture of relaxation, aside from the downward slant to his eyebrows as he scowled at her. “Don’t start. I saw them, too. Suggestions on what we should do on our date. Everything from hiking the falls to bingo night at the lodge to a séance to get your parent’s blessing from the great beyond.”
Right. If Ella thought the séance had a prayer of working, she’d hold one to ask how to save the Manor from this mystery buyer. She could handle Gray without anyone else’s help, dead or alive. “The séance gets extra points for the most original idea.”
“No. Nobody gets points .” He spat out the word. “I’ve romanced women on the pink sand beaches of Oahu.” Gray thrust out his arm in what she assumed to be the direction of Hawaii. Then he crossed his body and pointed the opposite direction. “Danced with them in the Rainbow Room at Rockefeller Center. I don’t need an entire town trying to micromanage this date. It’s intrusive.” Now he ticked off his points on one hand. “It’s insulting. And it’s damn annoying.”
The man was utterly adorable when he ranted against the journal. And gesturing so much she worried he’d knock over his wine. “Didn’t you ask Ward for a recommendation on where to take me?”
“Yes.” Gray stretched out the word, clearly wary of her talking him out of his tirade.
“Just consider these unsolicited recommendations. No different at all. They want us to have a good time. They know you’re unfamiliar with the area.”
“If they know so much, they should know that I don’t want any help from the damn journal!” A couple at the closest table looked over, eyes wide at his raised voice.
“Is that so?” Ella eased her foot out of one stiletto and ran it up and down Gray’s leg. Underneath his pants. Not necessarily to calm him down. Just to satisfy her own desire to touch him. To feel the crisp hairs of his calf against her arch. “What about the question you wrote in it? The one about your job? I didn’t tell you what to write. You pulled that out of the dark and snarly recesses of your subconscious all by yourself.”
“You caught me in a weak moment. It was the first thing that came to mind.”
“It leapt to mind because it’s bothering you.” The question he penned that day had struck her in its sadness. Here was a man who appeared successful. Who had enough money to blow on two weeks in the Marshgrass Suite. So why the career angst?
“I’m also worried about global warming,” he tossed back flippantly. “I don’t expect the journal to magically solve my problem, or those of the rapidly vanishing ozone layer.”
Wow. The man sure could dodge and weave when Ella tried to shift focus onto him. “Gray, I’m serious. God knows I’ve bared my soul to you, repeatedly. If the point of tonight is to get to know each other better, then this is what I want to know.”
“Are you positive? This is the topic you want to use to kick-start our date? Because we’ve got a relaxed, sexy vibe going here.” Gray leaned forward. Stroked his fingers through her loose waves. “I could spend the evening telling you that you’re beautiful. That I wake up every morning eager to rush downstairs and see you at breakfast. How you fill my heart every time you laugh. That I fall asleep every night thinking about what it’ll feel like when I finally drive inside you.”
As her chest slowly tightened, Ella realized she’d forgotten to breathe. “I see right through you. Did you really think you could distract me with all those pretty words?” Words that she’d already memorized. Words that made her wish she still kept a diary, so she could have the joy of tracing them out, letter by letter.
“A man can hope.” Then his hand cupped her jaw. Heavy-lidded eyes locked onto hers, their navy so dark it blended with his pupils in the growing dusk. “But I need you to know I meant every single one. Those weren’t empty compliments, Ella. I’m crazy about you.”
She’d savor the moment later. For now, she had to use his admission as an emotional crowbar to get at Gray’s vulnerable core. “Prove it. Answer my question. Do you really feel as if your job is crushing your soul?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Picked up his glass and took a long, slow swallow. Licked those kissable lips of his and said simply, “Yes.”
“So why stay?” Ella pressed.
“It pays well.”
His glibness often amused her. Not this time, though. “There are many jobs that fit that bill. I hear there’s lots of money to be made in plumbing. But I don’t see you crawling on your belly snaking out pipes.”
Another slow sip of his wine. “I’m not a big fan of the complex aroma of raw sewage. But thanks for the career counseling.”
With every answer he fought her, like a marlin straining at the end of a taut fishing line. “I’m serious. If you’re miserable, why not leave? You’re young enough to start over doing something completely different, if it interests you.”
“I am. My mom’s not.” He shifted, pulling in his legs and catching her hand to rub his thumb across the top of it. “Remember I told you how she slaved in the diner after the legal bills left us flat broke?”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Yes.”
“It was killing her. She picked up extra shifts, worked doubles all the time. Got sick almost every other month. She had no friends left, thanks to Dad’s actions. Mom worked herself to the bone to take care of us.”
A heron caught her eye, rising out of the lake with a tremendous flap of its wide wings. “That’s awful. Your mother must have a backbone of steel.”
“Takes one to know one,” Gray said with a chuckle. “Once I graduated, as soon as I got my feet under me, I started sending her checks. At first she put up a fight. Insisted on not taking anything from me. So I insisted it was the only way I could live with the guilt over everything she’d done for me. I wore her down, eventually.”
“With a newly minted degree, you couldn’t have been rolling in dough yourself.”
Gray snorted. “Not hardly. There were more rats than furniture in my first apartment. But I’d worked all through school, managed to save a little. Got a good promotion or two. It took a while, but I finally convinced her we had enough of a cushion so that she could finally leave that town.”
Ella wanted to tackle him. Smother him in kisses while simultaneously telling him that he was the best man she’d ever met. Most twenty-something kids wouldn’t put their own comfort second to their mother’s. Wouldn’t indenture themselves to a job they hated and not reap any of the rewards themselves. Blinking against the wetness in her eyes, she said, “Gray, you’re amazing. You bought your mom’s freedom.”
Shifting in his seat, he looked like she was poking him with a cactus instead of lauding him. “Don’t make it sound all noble. I barely scratched the surface of what I owe that woman. All I did was take a weekend, help her move into a little condo in middle-of-nowhere central Pennsylvania. Rent’s cheap, the people are decent, and she works in a flower shop.”
“Is it her dream job?” There. With the focus off him and back on his mother, Gray stopped the restless movement of his leg.
“Mom loves it. She loves not being run ragged. Not finishing a shift smelling of grease and smoke. She starts every day by poking her head into the cooler where they keep all the blooms and inhaling that perfumed air for a few minutes. Even on the days when it’s filled with nothing but carnations and baby’s breath.”
Ah. Inexpensive flowers filled in the missing puzzle piece. “It doesn’t pay well, does it?”
“That’d be an understatement. But it makes her happy—finally—so it’s the perfect job.”
“You’re covering most of her bills, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. The mortgage, utilities, cable and phone. All of them deduct straight from my bank account. She never sees a bill.”
Ella didn’t need to hear any more. Didn’t need to torture Gray any longer by exposing his soft and tender heart to her interrogation. Even though she still wanted to ask him the most basic first-date question—what was this job he hated so much—now wasn’t the time. She knew all she needed to about this man. This caring, wonderful man. This man she’d do anything for to put a smile back on his face. Which meant lightening the mood again considerably.
She pulled his hand to her lips, and dropped a soft kiss right below the big, knobby, utterly masculine bones of his wrist. “I’m so very proud of you, Gray.” Then Ella sat back. Picked up her wine and drank deeply. “You’re right. I don’t want to have a somber first date. How about you tell me something fun and silly? What was your first Halloween costume that you begged for, that you loved?”
Gray cracked his neck, rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. You might not want me anymore if I divulge that secret.”
Was he insane? “Trust me.” Ella pointed at the water, now mirroring the streaks of orange and pink in the sky. “I could jump in the forty-five-degree lake right now and still burn for you. No matter what you tell me, I’ll still be ready to knock this table over and jump on you. Just say the word.”
Gray dropped his head, then craned his neck sideways that gave her a flash of the adorable young boy he must’ve been. “Promise not to laugh?”
“No,” she said, already primed to giggle. And glad that he’d so easily rolled out of his pensive mood.
He reached back to retrieve the bottle and top off their glasses. “Come on, if this was a real first date, you wouldn’t laugh at me. You’d be too busy trying to figure out how soon you should slip that sweater off your shoulder. Now’s a good time, by the way. So cut me some slack.”
Happy to oblige, Ella twitched her shoulder and felt the slither of her sweater dip down her arm. “Okay. No laughing. I’ll even put my wine down so I’m not tempted to do a spit-take.”
“Thanks.” After a big sigh, Gray spread his hands. “When I was six or seven, I was Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid . I liked to re-enact that scene where he skewers Ursula with his ship. I wore my black rain boots, jeans, and tied a red sash around my waist.”
Oh. Oh my. It was Fate. Maybe. Maybe she was reading too much into it. But Ella had to tell him. Because this tiny coincidence shook her straight to her core. “I was Ariel. Once as a little kid, and again in high school. I adore that movie.”
“Maybe we’ll have to watch it together one night.” Standing in a half crouch, he leaned over the table to drop a line of kisses along the edge of the shoulder she’d exposed. Moving up to her ear, Gray growled, “Or better yet, pretend to watch it while we neck.”
“I’m good either way.” The tingles running through her weren’t just from his kisses. It was possibility shimmering across her body. They were great together. She and Gray meshed. They challenged each other. Even though she hadn’t admitted it to him yet, they were both crazy for each other. So why not pursue a relationship that lasted past the end of his vacation? Why not make him a permanent part of her world? It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t irrational. When two people were so perfect for each other, it would be foolish not to find a way to stay together. Ella just had to figure out how to make it happen. And she had absolutely no idea where to start.
The only thing she knew for certain was that this was a question she definitely wouldn’t be writing in the mailbox journal.