22. Cherise
Chapter twenty-two
Cherise
Iwas trying to shave my legs with a trembling hand while I balanced my mascara wand in my teeth, resembling a damn circus act. My legs still shook from the acrobatic stunts Leo had me performing in the bathroom. My brain was in a haze. Frantically trying to make it to this wine tasting on time.
All because Leo—the quiet, nerdy, twin brother, had just rearranged my insides like he had something to prove.
And dammit, did he prove it.
Where the hell had that even come from?! Was it really the brunch mimosas? If alcohol was the secret, I was slipping Casamigos in his mouthwash from now on.
Hell, I’d spike his multivitamin too if it meant I got that kind of treatment again, because that man had me seeing stars. I was going to be walking funny the whole wine tasting.
My hand slipped again, nearly nicking my ankle. I groaned and tossed the razor into the sink. I was in no condition to be holding a sharp object. My equilibrium was officially shot.
I heard Leo’s voice outside the door and paused, eyeliner halfway to my lid.
Is he… talking to someone?
Curious, I crept toward the cracked bathroom door and peeked through the sliver. His back was turned, shirtless, towel slung low on his hips, phone in selfie mode. Talking to…
His dog?
“Hey, buddy,” he said, voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “You being good for Grandma? You taking your meds? Don’t even try to hide your joint meds under the couch again. I already told Grandma about all your hiding spots.”
A tiny bark came through the speaker.
“I know, I miss you, too. But guess what? I’m having a lot of fun here.”
Okay, having a full-fledged conversation with an animal was weird on so many levels…but also the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
“You know who is here? Yeah, I can’t say her name because I know someone nosy is probably eavesdropping on our conversation.”
A scoff came through the speaker. “I am not nosy.”
Leo laughed. “Thank you for proving my point, Mom.” Leo shook his head, and I tried my best not to laugh, too. “Ok, back to you, Moose. My friend is…” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s something else.”
I froze. Something else?
Something else good…or something else bad?
“She’s funny as hell, loyal, protective, and gorgeous, too.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Moose barked through the phone again. Loud and proud.
“Yeah, buddy. I… really like her, too.”
Yep. My ovaries just burst.
“If you like her so much, Leo, I want to meet this girl.” Leo’s mom’s voice cut back in.
I internally cringed.
Oh, yeah. That would totally go over well.
Hi, Mrs. Campbell, nice to finally meet you. Funny story. Your son dated me for years, but apparently thought introducing me to his family was too much commitment. But surprise! I’m dating your other son now, so hopefully this relationship works out better. Anyway, love your home decor.
Yeah. No.
“Talking to Moose, Mom,” Leo responded. “I got to go, though. When I get home, we’re going to take care of that leg, okay? No more pain. I promise.”
I pout my lip. Take all my damn money.
“Love you.” He ended as he kissed the screen.
I couldn’t help it. My voice popped out from behind the door, “I love you, too, Moosie!”
Leo damn near jumped out of his towel. He spun around, eyes wide. “Don’t call him that!”
I burst out laughing, pushing the door open. “Relax, you know he loves it. Now come on, lover boy, the bathroom is all yours.”
He grumbled, but I caught the smirk tugging at his lips as he walked past me.
God help me, this man just fucked me to kingdom come, and now he was melting my heart over a FaceTime with his limping pup, and I’m supposed to just act like none of this ever happened when we leave to go back to our separate lives in Atlanta?
Yeah… I am totally doomed.
***
Leo stepped out of the bathroom, and his scent hit me before he did.
A warm swirl of citrus and cedarwood—damn, he smelled like heaven.
He wore a beige linen shirt with just enough buttons undone to tease the ridges of his pecs, paired with crisp white slacks and a gold watch that glinted under the light.
Sure, I technically packed his whole wardrobe for this trip, but damn. Leo was wearing the hell out of it.
His eyes dragged over me slowly, and it sent a tingle down to my toes.
“You look stunning,” he said, voice thick with appreciation.
“Oh, this old thing?” I twirled, giving him the full effect of my outfit: a hunter green pleated bandeau top and a long, flowy skirt to match, with a slit so high, you'd start praying for a strong gust of wind just to catch a show.
“You ready to make Savannah's jaw drop?” he asked, reaching his hand out.
I slipped mine into his, our fingers naturally lacing together. His palm was warm and calloused just enough to prove he worked with his hands. His gentle, intimate touch had heat rushing up my neck.
I took a deep breath. This felt dangerous.
Because holding his hand felt safe.
Holding his hand felt...right.
I cleared my throat and plastered on a smile. “Born ready,” I said, as he guided me out the door.
***
We were fashionably late...again. A given when your date thinks blowing your back out takes priority over punctuality.
Fucking worth it.
The moment we walked through the restaurant doors, it felt like time slowed—whether from the earlier mimosas or the way Leo's fingers stayed laced with mine, I couldn’t say.
But I swear every head turned. Every gaze found us. And not to be dramatic, but someone definitely dropped their fork.
Leo and I followed the hostess to our table, my heels clicking along the polished marble tile, our hands still intertwined.
The pictures online hadn’t done this place justice.
Floor-to-ceiling windows were pulled open, displaying beautiful panoramic views of the ocean that stretched endlessly, even from indoor seats.
The scent of salt water and seared steak filled the air.
Crisp white linen chairs circled each wood-grained table, and votive candles cast a warm golden glow.
But it wasn’t the view that had me gawking.
It was Leo.
Pecan-toned skin, tall stature, broad shoulders. Yeah, he was sexy as hell now, but he was also sweet. Goofy. The kind of man who went along with all my wild, borderline-reckless ideas without blinking. Oh, and let's not forget the man was a certified closet freak. Major brownie points on that one.
I once thought he checked none of my boxes, but Leo had managed to obliterate my list. Completing me in ways I never even thought of.
I was beginning to realize that the perfect man wasn’t about titles, money, and status.
It was the way he made you feel. His ability to lift you both mentally, emotionally, and physically.
And damn it, Leo could lift me. Like a fucking weightless rag doll, but I digress.
I could be myself with Leo. No posturing, pretending, or self-doubt. He made me want to be better. To be the best version of myself…for him. To make him proud to have me on his arm.
For once… I was genuinely happy.
We finally reached our table, and I could feel Savannah’s stare trying to sear a hole through my cheekbone.
Let her watch.
Leo pulled out my chair as he always did, scooting me up to the table once I was settled in, then took the seat beside me.
“Fashionably late as always.” Savannah sneered, her smile tight. “I guess you just can’t help making an entrance.”
I cocked my head, returning her smile with one of my own. Sweet and smug.
“Oh, I love that you noticed. I like to give people time to brace themselves.”
Leo’s hand slid beneath the table, fingers brushing my skirt before resting on my thigh. A gentle squeeze. It wasn't demanding, just... there. Claiming. Calming. Deliciously distracting. An unspoken gesture that said chill, don’t let her get to you.
I leaned back in my seat, sipped my water, and focused my attention on the sommelier.
“Aloha and welcome to our island voyage where every sip is no ka ‘oi… the best of the best!” he announced at the head of the table, holding up the first bottle. “Our first pour is a crisp white, notes of citrus, honeysuckle, and what I like to call sunshine in a glass.”
He walked around the table, pouring a modest amount of the golden liquid into each of our glasses.
“Don’t be shy with his portion,” I said, gesturing to Leo. “I need him leaning before the night’s over.”
“Ignore her,” Leo said with a grin. “She’s too little to carry me out of here if things go south, and I doubt you want to be tasked with that job.”
I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear. “Look, you said it was the alcohol. I am just making sure I get a redo of earlier today.”
His grip slid to my inner thigh. His voice low and seductive, “Trust me, I don’t need alcohol to fuck you like that again. Your beauty is more than enough of a high for me. I plan on living out every one of my deeply rooted fantasies with you before this trip is over.”
I swallowed, heat pooled between my thighs. “Carry on,” I said to the sommelier with a wave.
He poured a splash into Leo’s glass and made his way back to the head of the table, readying the next pour.
As the sommelier set the next bottle on the table—rosé, blush pink, and chilled to perfection—I let my hand rest on Leo’s thigh under the table... then slowly inched it towards his zipper.
Leo leaned toward me, his voice a promise just beneath the surface. “You’re playing with fire, Cherise.”
I smiled sweetly and sipped my wine. “Good thing I like it hot.”
“Okay, lovers,” Savannah butted in, just loud enough for everyone to hear, “some of us are trying to learn something about wine, not each other’s sex drives. You guys can’t whisper for shit.”
Chelsea raised a brow, swirling her wine. “Don’t be mad, Savannah. Just because the only thing that’s been in your mouth lately is a wine glass… doesn’t mean you can rain on other people’s sexual bliss.”
I fucking love her.
Grace nearly spit out her sip, coughing into her napkin while Logan thumped her back between snorts of laughter. “Jesus, Chelsea,” he wheezed, grinning. “That was savage.”
Leo chuckled low beside me, biting his lip, trying not to get involved.
Even the sommelier froze mid-pour, visibly reconsidering his career choices.
Greg tried to save the moment. “I just want to say that I can assure you she has had plenty in her mouth.”
Savannah’s eyes bulged as she nudged Greg. “Gregory, shut up!” she hissed, “You are not making this better.”
She let out a nervous laugh, darting wide-eyed glances around the table.
We all erupted.
Tessa was doubled over her napkin, Miles wheezed beside her, and Chelsea looked way too proud of herself for causing this uproar.
Savannah’s mouth opened, closed, then twisted into a tight smile. “Cute,” she muttered, raising her glass. “Real mature.”
“Cheers to immaturity,” I said sweetly, clinking my glass with Chelsea’s. “It’s way more fun.”
The table finally quieted down, and we dove into the delicious wine choices. The sommelier gave a brief description of each pour along the way.
“So, Grace,” Layla said, lifting her glass in her direction, “be honest. Any pre-wedding jitters?”
She laughed, cheeks pink. “Only about tripping down the aisle. Ugly-crying through my vows. Or Logan sobbing and taking me down with him.”
“He most definitely will be sobbing,” Logan said, zero shame. “I’ve accepted that I’ll be a hot, emotional mess, and I’m okay with that.”
“You better,” I cut in. “I already told Grace to turn her ass back around and try again if you don’t cry the second you see her. Because clearly you missed something. Her dress?... Perfection,” I said as I pinched my fingers together and kissed the air in dramatic Italian flair.
Logan reached for Grace’s hand. He lifted it to his lips as he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I can’t wait to see her in it. I know she is going to take my breath away like she always does.”
“Aww,” Tessa cooed dramatically, dabbing at fake tears from the corner of her eyes with a napkin. “You guys are gonna be so annoyingly perfect.”
Tessa barely finished her sentence before Greg raised his glass.
“So, what’s the proper way to taste this fancy wine anyway?” he asked, swirling it awkwardly. “Do we sniff it, swirl it, gulp it, what?”
Chelsea leaned in with a sneaky grin, and I could already tell she was up to no good. “Actually, yeah. You swirl, sniff, take a sip… then you have to gargle it in the back of your throat to really activate the notes,” she said with the most convincing tone that I almost believed her for a second.
Greg paused. “Oh, really?”
And before Savannah could stop him, he tipped his head back and gave the wine a full-on Listerine treatment, gargling like he was prepping for a dental procedure. Yep, Greg may be hot and rich, but he clearly wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box.
Layla burst out laughing. Even the sommelier winced.
Chelsea was crying, laughing. “Oh my God, I was kidding! I didn’t think you would actually gargle it!”
Greg wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Well… it was tingly. I felt all the notes of shame and regret.”
Savannah groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.
The sommelier cleared his throat and stepped forward, wearing a patient smile that he definitely needed with this group.
“If I may,” he said politely, “the proper steps for wine tasting are: swirl gently to release the aromas, take a short sniff to note the bouquet, then sip and let it coat your tongue before swallowing. No gargling required.”
“Noted,” Greg deadpanned. “Save the gargling for mouthwash…check.”
I leaned over to Leo. “I know exactly what I want to coat my tongue before swallowing.”
His jaw clenched, eyes darkening as he slowly turned his head toward me. “You keep talking like that,” he murmured, voice dripping with heat, “and I’m gonna want to flip this table and take you right here.”
Chelsea choked on her wine beside me. I guess Savannah was right, we can’t whisper for shit.
“Everything okay, Chelsea?” Tessa asked.
“Peachy,” Chelsea wheezed. “Just didn’t realize we needed a parental advisory warning for this tasting.”
“I told you,” Savannah added.
Leo didn’t break eye contact with me. His hand slid higher on my thigh.
“I’m not kidding, Cherise. One more comment like that and we’re not going to make it to the luau.”
I smiled sweetly and lifted my glass to my lips. “Guess I'd better pace myself then.”