Awakened

by HELEN HARDT

  “In Grand Junction, actually. There’s a new steakhouse I want to try, and I’d love to get your opinion on their wine list.”

  I’d much rather be having a candlelight dinner with Dale alone at his place, but that clearly isn’t happening. Levi is attractive and appears to be an excellent business contact. So why not?

  “I’ll need to go home and change.”

  “Where do you live?” he asks.

  “I’m actually staying with Dale’s mom and dad at their main ranch house. I can give you the address. But I still don’t know what time I’m going to be done here.”

  “Mr. Jones,” an employee interrupts us, “we’ve got your wine ready to pack into your car for you.”

  “Great, thank you,” Levi says. “Ashley, my cell phone number’s on the card. Give me a call or text, and let me know what time you’ll be ready for me to pick you up.”

  I smile and nod. “Sounds great. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He winks at me. “So am I.”

  The wink catches me off guard. Not that a guy has never winked at me before, but I find myself comparing Levi to Dale. Dale Steel will never wink at me. I’ve known him for only four days, but already I’m sure of that.

  I’m not interested in Levi. For all I know, he may be involved with someone else. He’s not wearing a wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a significant other he’s been with for ten years.

  He leaves, leading the employee with his cases of wine on a dolly to his car.

  Now to talk to Dale.

  Except…where is he?

  Several of the other tasters are placing their orders, and a few already left. Katie’s friend is speaking to another taster.

  But where is Katie? She didn’t leave, not if she and her friend came together.

  No Dale, and no Katie.

  Completely circumstantial, but I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. I turn to look for Dale, when a taster steps in front of me.

  “Could you help me?” she asks.

  “Of course. What can I do for you?”

  “My husband will kill me if I buy more than one case of wine, and I can’t make up my mind between the Cab Franc and the Rhône blend. Do you sell mixed cases?”

  “That’s a very good question. I’m assuming so, but this is my first day and I don’t actually know.” I tap an employee on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but can we sell a mixed case?”

  “Yes, of course. Give me a second while I finish up with this customer.”

  “Awesome, thank you. This gentleman will help you in a moment,” I say to the taster.

  “I really enjoyed today,” she says. “You have a real knack for this.”

  “It’s my passion,” I say.

  “Well, you chose correctly. You’re a natural.”

  I smile as my cheeks warm. “Thank you so much. You’ve just made my day.”

  I turn away. Now to find Dale. I actually have a good reason. I want to find out what time we’ll be finished for the day so I can contact Levi about our dinner date.

  Except it’s not really a dinner date. It’s a dinner…meeting? Sure, why not? I’ll call it that. Everyone seems to be taken care of by employees, so I leave the tasting room and walk through the building outside to the parking lot.

  Dale is loading Katie’s wine into her small red car. Now how did I know she’d have a red car? Not that I have anything against red cars. I love the color red. Especially the deep red of wine. Of Syrah.

  Of Dale Steel’s voice.

  I walk toward them. After all, I have a legitimate question. I need to know what time I’ll be done this evening. “Excuse me, Dale?”

  He lowers Ashley’s trunk cover and turns to me. Not smiling, of course. “Yeah?”

  “What time will we be done this evening?” I ask.

  “You got somewhere to be?”

  “Well… Yeah, I do.”

  “I see.”

  “One of the tasters wants to talk to me about his wine list. He wants to take me to some steakhouse in Grand Junction.”

  Dale’s cheeks redden. “I…uh…”

  Katie claps her hands together. “Does that mean you’ll be breaking your date with Dale?”

  My date with Dale? I keep my jaw from dropping. “Yeah, Dale… Sorry… But you know… It’s business and all.”

  “Perfect,” she exclaims. “Then you must have dinner with Lynette and me.”

  Dale’s green eyes glare at me, almost as if they’re independent from his body.

  He’s angry? He uses a fake date with me to get out of going to dinner with Katie, and he’s angry with me?

  Such bullshit.

  How long is Levi in town? Maybe I could meet with him tomorrow night. It would serve Dale right. I ought to make him keep his fake date with me. I sure as hell don’t want him going off with Katie and her friend. Of course, there’s safety in numbers. He can’t do much with Katie if her friend is along—

  Except that he can.

  I’ve had a few threesomes in my day, but Dale Steel? Already, I know he won’t go for that. Yeah, he has a Y chromosome, and yeah, he’s the hottest thing walking, but no. Oh, he’ll think about it. Every straight man in the world—and probably quite a few gay men—has thought about it at one time or another.

  Are Katie and Lynette into threesomes?

  I honestly don’t want to know.

  My heart softens. Levi might be able to give me some good business contacts, but right now, I have the chance to corral Dale into taking me to dinner.

  “You know,” I say, “I can easily rearrange my business meeting tonight. I really don’t want to miss our dinner date.” I paste on my fakest smile and even bat my eyes twice.

  Dale grabs my hand, fumbling. First he grasps my palm, and then he tries to entwine our fingers together but gives up, just fisting his own hand around my small one. “That’s great, Ashley. Sorry, Katie. I’m booked for tonight.”

  A few other tasters emerge from the building, Lynette among them. She walks toward us to Ashley’s car.

  “Did you find a good place to go to dinner?” she asks Katie.

  “Not exactly.” She heads to the driver side door. “We’re on our own. We’ll find something.” She gets into the car, as does Lynette.

  Once they’re on their way, Dale turns to me. “Thanks for the save.”

  “What save?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “All I know, Dale, is that you and I have a date for dinner tonight. Where are we going?”

  “Ashley…”

  “I don’t let men use me,” I say. “Ever.”

  “You have plans. You said you wanted to know when we were done this evening so that you could go to some business thing.”

  “True. Which I will now cancel.”

  “What kind of business thing could you possibly have anyway? You just moved here.”

  “Levi Jones—that’s the guy who likes Syrah—invited me to dinner in Grand Junction.”

  Dale’s jawline tenses, and he squeezes his fist around my hand.

  “Are you trying to crush my bones?”

  He lets go of my hand and drops it quickly. “Sorry.”

  “So where are we going?” I ask again.

  “Ashley…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t…date.”

  My heart drops a little, but his attitude is not entirely unexpected. “Okay. You do eat, though.”

  He sighs, shaking his head.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. So the only question is, where will we be dining this evening?”

  “I guess we could…go into Snow Creek— No. Where was that wine guy going to take you?”

  “I don’t know. He said it was a new steakhouse in Grand Junction, and he wanted to check out the wine list.”

  “Fine. Get the name of it from him, and that’s where we’ll go.”

  “Wait. Are you suggesting that I ask him where we’re going and then break
the date?”

  “Breaking the date was your idea, Ashley.”

  “Au contraire, it was your idea. Right after you decided to use a fake date with me to get out of going out with Katie and her friend.”

  A smile—I think—tugs at the corners of Dale’s mouth. Is he amused? Or is he secretly glad to be going out with me tonight?

  “My brother would know just how to handle you,” he says, still shaking his head.

  “And you don’t?”

  “Fuck, Ashley.” He shakes his head yet again. “I don’t even know how to hold your damned hand.”

  He’s not wrong. He fumbled at it, eventually crushing my bones.

  “You knew what you were doing pretty well in your office. Remember?”

  His cheeks redden slightly, and his jaw tenses again. Yeah, he remembers.

  “That’s different,” he says.

  “How is it different?”

  “I know how to please a woman. I’ve been around the block a few times.”

  “Then how do you not know how to hold a woman’s hand?”

  He stares at me, his green eyes searing with fire. “Because I’ve never done it before.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Dale

  Because I’ve never done it before.

  The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. Fuck. What is she going to think now? I’m a thirty-five-year-old man who doesn’t know how to hold a woman’s hand. My confession shouldn’t surprise her, given my asinine attempt to grab her hand just minutes earlier.

  I’ve never actually dated anyone. Not seriously, anyway. Not someone I have feelings for. I’ve grown used to the fact over the years that I’ll probably never develop the kind of feelings for a woman that I’d need to pursue a long-term relationship. And I was okay with that.

  Until now. Ashley White intrigues me. Gets under my skin in a way I’m not prepared for. I’m not in love with her. A man doesn’t fall in love in less than a week. But God, something about her… She’s beautiful, yes. She’s smart. She’s funny. But I’ve known a lot of beautiful, smart, and funny women in my life. I never fell in love with any of them. I never wanted to.

  For the first time, though, I’m thinking thoughts I have no business thinking.

  Having feelings I have no business feeling.

  And the scariest thing? I like it. I like these thoughts and feelings that have no place in my world. I’m not satisfied just to fuck Ashley. Just to have her suck my dick and then go down on that sweet pussy of hers.

  No.

  I want to hold her hand. I want to start at the beginning and fall in love.

  “Fortnight,” Ashley says.

  I cock my head, those thoughts and feelings I don’t want damn near giving me goosebumps. “What?”

  “Fortnight. I just texted Levi. That’s the name of the steakhouse.”

  “Levi?”

  “Yeah. Levi Jones. I just told you. He’s the guy from the tasting who likes Syrah. Don’t you listen, Dale?”

  Yeah, I listen. Except when my thoughts are consumed with you.

  “He’s a good contact, Dale,” she continues. “He bought four cases of wine, and he’s the vice president of marketing for his family’s company that owns several high-end steakhouses. Maybe he’ll start serving your wines.”

  “At the moment, I don’t give a rat’s ass whether he ever serves my wine.”

  “But—”

  “That’s where we’ll go to dinner,” I say. “I’ll make a reservation at Fortnight.”

  “I just thought of something, though,” Ashley begins. “What if—”

  “What if what? What if he’s there?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass,” I say again.

  She draws in a breath, bringing her pert breasts high on her chest. Those nipples… Damn.

  “All right. Fine. I’ll tell him I can’t make it tonight, and I hope we can get together another time.”

  I clench my jaw but say nothing.

  She fiddles with her phone. “Done.”

  “I need to get back inside,” I say. “See if there are any tasters who still need some help.”

  “Sure. I’ll come along.” She smiles and walks back into the building.

  Her legs are slender and shapely, and her ass… Damn. I’ve had my face between those gorgeous ass cheeks, my tongue inside her sweetness. Already, my groin is tightening.

  This isn’t my idea, I remind myself. It’s Ashley’s. She’s insisting I make good on the lie I told to get out of dinner with Katie and her friend.

  I’m frightened. Not frightened of going out with a woman, of course, but frightened of what I may be starting. What I want to start, but have no business starting.

  I sigh and follow Ashley back into the building while absently pulling my phone out of my pocket and searching for the Fortnight Steakhouse in Grand Junction.

  We arrive at the steakhouse after a half-hour drive. The entire time, I was so very aware of her left hand sitting on top of her thigh. How I wanted to grab it and entwine my fingers with hers, feel her skin against mine in this most innocent of touches.

  I didn’t.

  I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t know how to hold her hand.

  I find a parking spot and stop the car. Without speaking, I get out and walk to the passenger door, but she’s already out. She looks radiant tonight in a red sundress and high-heeled sandals. I hope she’ll be warm enough.

  We walk together, though not touching, into the restaurant.

  “We have a reservation for two,” I tell the host. “Steel.”

  “Of course, Mr. Steel. We’re thrilled that you’re here tonight. I know our sommelier would love to have your opinion on his wine list.”

  “Are there any Steel wines on it?” I ask.

  “Yes, several.”

  “Then I’m sure it’s adequate.” I force a smile. “Maybe you’d like to ask the doctor here what she thinks?”

  “Doctor?” he says.

  Ashley laughs. “He’s just yanking your chain. I’m a doctoral candidate in oenology at UCLA, and I’m doing an internship at his winery.”

  The host lifts his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you could get a doctorate in oenology.”

  “Not a lot of universities offer it,” she says. “But I would love to talk to your sommelier about other things. I hope to work as a sommelier myself when I’m done with my education.”

  “I’ll send him right over.” He leads us to a secluded table for two.

  I’m not thrilled, and I’m also not upset. I desperately want to be alone with Ashley, and I just as desperately don’t want to.

  “I normally only give one wine list per table,” the host says, “but in this case, I’m going to give you both one. Since you’re both experts, of course.” He hands us each a red portfolio.

  “Oh, thank you.” Ashley gives him a dazzling smile.

  I simply nod.

  “Giselle will be with you in a moment. She’ll be taking care of you tonight. Our sommelier is Idris. I’ll send him right over too. I know he’ll want to meet both of you.”

  I barely have a chance to read the first couple of wine entries when a dark-haired gentleman—who’s way too handsome as he eyes Ashley—approaches us.

  “Mr. Steel, it’s an honor. I’m Idris Delcour, the sommelier.”

  “Very nice to meet you.”

  “And I understand you also know a lot about wine.” He smiles at Ashley.

  “Yes. I’m a doctoral candidate in oenology at UCLA.”

  “Really? That’s where I studied as well, though I only completed my master’s. I’m impressed.”

  Yeah, I bet he is. Only not with her education, but with her breasts, which he’s not so subtly checking out.

  “I’d offer a suggestion for you this evening,” Idris continues, “but two such experts hardly need my guidance. Do you have any questions about the list?”

  “I haven’t really
had a chance to look at it yet,” Ashley says.

  “Of course. I’ll return in a few minutes. I’ll send Giselle over in case you want to order cocktails or appetizers.” He bows and leaves the table.

  Yes, he actually bows.

  “Is that what sommeliers are supposed to do?” I ask Ashley.

  “What? Ask us if we have questions? Of course.”

  “No. The bowing. What are we? Royalty?”

  She shakes her head with a chuckle. “Dale Steel is probably royalty in the wine world, but no. It’s just common courtesy. This is a fine restaurant.”

  “Are you going to bow when you work at a fine place like this?”

  “For God’s sake, Dale. First, he didn’t bow. He simply nodded his head.”

  “Looked like a bow to me.”

  “Maybe, but only slightly. It’s his way of saying he’s here to help us with our wine selection in any way.”

  “Yeah,” I say under my breath. “He’s willing to help us all right.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He was staring at your tits,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “So?” she says. “It’s not like you’ve never stared at them.”

  She’s not wrong, but her comment annoys me.

  “He wasn’t rude or obnoxious about it, so let it go. Please.” She opens the wine list. “Nice selection of wines by the glass.” She flips to the next page.

  I frown and open my copy of the list. As much as I want to hate Idris Delcour, he’s put together a fantastic list, which includes three Steel wines. Impressive.

  Except I’m not impressed.

  I’ll never be impressed with any man who stares at Ashley’s breasts.

  A young woman with short dark hair approaches us. “Good evening, and welcome to Fortnight. I’m Giselle, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

  “Hello, Giselle.” Ashley smiles.

  She smiles at Giselle exactly like she smiled at Idris. She’s just being herself. She wasn’t flirting with the handsome sommelier. So why am I freaking out?

  Giselle returns Ashley’s smile. “I see you’re perusing the wine list. If you have questions, I can send Idris over.”