Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology)
Page 9
I glanced over at him as the credits started to roll and caught him staring.
“What?”
“I’m debating whether to push my luck.”
“Push it.” I hoped pushing his luck involved his lips—and mine.
He chuckled. “Okay. I will. Any chance we can make this a weekly thing? A Tuesday night movie date night.”
“That is pushing your luck.” No lips, but the promise of them another time…
“Is that a no?”
“That depends.” I could play coy when I wanted to.
“On?”
“What movies you pick.”
“How about you choose next time?”
“It’s a deal, but let’s take it one week at a time.” I glanced at my watch. “Wow, it’s getting late.”
“I guess it is.”
He moved his arm from around me slowly, and unless I was imagining it, he wasn’t too happy to be doing it.
I stretched. Sitting in the same position for a few hours left me stiff.
“You okay?” He watched me carefully.
“Yeah. I’m great.”
“Good.” He took my hand again, and we walked back upstairs. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone as we walked out to his car. “I don’t feel like saying goodnight.”
“Me either.” I ran a hand down his arm. “At least we have the drive.”
“It’s not long enough.” He held open my door, and I slipped in.
I waited until he came around to his side. “Maybe if I leave you wanting more, you’ll call me sooner this time.”
“Low blow, but I deserve it. We already have a date for next Tuesday.”
“That we do.”
“I’d love to see you sooner.”
“Yeah?”
“Much sooner.” He pulled out of his driveway. “As in tomorrow night.”
I pretended to mull it over as he drove. “I don’t know. I might have plans.”
“Planning on swinging with a married couple?”
“It’s not swinging because I’m not bringing anyone into it.”
“That’s true. I’ll be upfront here. I’m not interested in that.”
“Really?” I put a hand on his shoulder. “I would have thought switching partners was your thing.”
“Why? I’m not a bartender.”
I punched his arm playfully. “So nice.”
“You’re the one telling me you’re too busy to go out with me tomorrow night.”
“What would we be doing?” Not that I really cared. I was all about seeing Colin again.
“I don’t know yet.” He slowed down, and I knew he was doing it to prolong the ride.
“Way to plan ahead.”
“It’s going to be good though. So good.”
“Is this one of those things I’m supposed to have high expectations for?”
“Yes. Definitely.” He pulled into my parking lot.
“I’m free.”
“Yeah? That’s convenient.” He unbuckled his seatbelt.
“Very.” I unbuckled mine, uninterested in getting out of the car.
“I think I need to build up those expectations.” He leaned over the center console and crushed his lips against mine. I responded immediately, loving the way his lips felt and wanting more. He pushed his way into my mouth, and I eagerly welcomed him. Cinnamon and desire mixed as he intensified the kiss. I needed to be closer, and I pressed my body against his. It wasn’t close enough, and he lifted me over onto his lap.
My arms wrapped around his neck as his hands slid down my back. I wanted him. Right there in the parking lot with the top down on his convertible. It was like I was sixteen again with hormones controlling everything. God knows what would have happened if I hadn’t leaned back into the horn.
“Whoa…” I started to move off his lap.
He braced his hands on my hips, stilling me. “I think we set expectations too high. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.”
I broke free, moving to my side of the car. “Remember what I said. I’m going to leave you wanting more.” I got out of the car, pausing to glance back at him.
He groaned. “You’re mean, but I deserve it. Sleep well, Maddy. Tomorrow night can’t come soon enough.” He sat there while I walked inside.
I mustered every ounce of resistance to stop myself from running back to invite him up.
Chapter Nine
Free time gets old. When you don’t have it, it seems like the ultimate prize. You dream about the things you’d do, and how nice it would be to veg out. The truth is, when you have it, you don’t want it. You get bored, you get antsy, and it leaves open the possibility of developing very weird and unproductive habits—like an addiction to watching old school 90210 reruns. Sometimes I’d think that I should have been a child of the eighties. I should have gone to high school in the early nineties, listened to grunge music, and watched MTV when people cared about the videos. My parents had me fifteen years too late.
“When’s lover boy getting here?” Brody busied himself in the kitchen. He was always trying out new recipes. Working at the Grille was far from his dream job, but he tried to view it as a stepping stone to something better.
“Colin’s picking me up at seven.”
“Where’s he taking you?” Brody offered me a taste of some sort of sauce he was working on. Buttery and warm, it was all over good.
“I’m not sure.”
“He’s getting mysterious on you already?”
“I guess so. I’m usually not one for surprises, but I’m kind of feeling it tonight.” I resisted the urge to ask for another taste. Brody really knew how to cook.
“Feeling it, huh? Does that mean Colin’s getting lucky?”
“I guess that depends on how good the surprise is.”
Brody chuckled. “You’re something else, Maddy.”
“Am I?”
“Uh-huh. When Macon told me his little friend from home was moving in, I was expecting spoiled Prada girl.”
“Why? Charlottesville isn’t that wealthy.”
“It is compared to Augusta. Besides, I knew you were a Delta Mu. At my school, that house was full of rich girls.”
“How’d you know what sorority I was in?” I pushed his blatant stereotyping of my house aside. I was guilty of the same thing when it came to frats.
“I may have done some research.”
“Seriously? Does that make you a stalker?”
He laughed hard enough to spill some water down his white t-shirt. “No. I just like to know what I’m in for.”
“I didn’t look you up.”
“You took Macon’s word that I wasn’t an ax murderer?”
“Yes, I guess I didn’t even think about it. Maybe I trust Macon too much.”
“What’s the story there?” He stirred the sauce.
“With Macon?”
“Yeah. I don’t get it. I’ve known plenty of guys and girls who are friends, but I get this vibe there’s history.”
“We made out once when we were drunk. It sucked.”
He laughed again. “Really? And here I thought Macon was the ladies’ man.”
“He is…or usually is. I guess it was a sign we weren’t supposed to be doing that with each other. Now we joke about wanting to sleep together. It’s perfectly normal and healthy.”
“If I didn’t know you guys, I’d say it wasn’t, but with you, it seems to work.”
I shrugged. “I can’t afford to lose him as a friend. I need him.” Wow, I’d never admitted that out loud. It was a vulnerability I wasn’t sure I liked. Needing people could be dangerous.
“Want to know a secret?” Brody placed his empty glass in the dishwasher.
“Sure.”
“He needs you too. He’s been happier since you moved in.”
“Yeah? Was he ever not happy?” I felt slightly guilty talking about Macon when he wasn’t there, but I couldn’t deny the curiosity. Macon was always the upbeat one.
“
You’re not the only one here to run away. He took the rejection worse than he’s playing off.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Worry set in.
“Shit. Forget I said anything.”
“No. Now you have to tell me.”
Brody sighed. “His uncle said he didn’t think he was the right fit for the company.”
“What?” My jaw was probably on the floor. “Who is the ‘right fit’?”
“I don’t remember her name. Some woman who goes by initials.”
“AJ? Was it AJ?” He turned down the heat and covered the sauce.
“Yes.”
“That’s this brat who’s worked there for a few years. Geez. Poor Macon. I can’t believe he never told me.” Macon had complained about AJ more than a few times, but I doubt he ever considered she’d be actual competition.
“Don’t tell him I told you.”
“I won’t.” How could he have kept that from me? He had to have had his reasons, so for his sake, I decided to let it go. He was a super smart guy and loved by everyone. He’d probably be better off working somewhere else anyway.
“Good. Well, I need to get ready for work. Have fun on your date, whatever it is you do.”
“Thanks. I hope work’s decent.”
“Thanks.” He cast a glance back before walking into his room.
***
“Where are we going?” I asked as Colin slowed down. I’d thought over every possible place he could be taking me, but nothing seemed to fit.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He turned on the headlights. The days were already getting shorter. I loved fall, but I missed the long days of summer.
“Then when are you going to tell me?” I leaned back against the leather seat of his car.
“I’m not going to. You’ll see it for yourself.”
“Are we almost there?”
“Are you always this hard on guys who want to impress you?”
“There haven’t been many guys trying to impress me.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe.” He put his hand on my bare leg like it was something he did every day.
“It’s not that I haven’t dated. I have. Plenty. But the usual guys I attract aren’t worried about impressing me.”
“Why not? Did you kick them to the curb before they had the chance?”
“No. They didn’t care enough. I’ve never had trouble getting a date—but I don’t think I’ve ever been someone anyone was concerned with keeping around.” The mini speech was far more personal than I intended it to be.
“I know the feeling.” Four words said more than one hundred could. I loved how he did that sometimes. He spoke so simply, but so meaningfully.
“That surprises me.”
“It shouldn’t, but I suppose I should be flattered if it does. It doesn’t matter though. I’m glad I have the opportunity to try to impress you. I want to keep you around.”
“You want to keep me around? That’s quite a romantic statement.”
“I promised you a surprise. I didn’t promise you romance.” A tiny smile played on the corner of his lips, making me even more curious about what he had up his sleeve.
My curiosity was satisfied moments later when he pulled into a small parking lot.
I looked around at where we were. “Why are we stopping?”
“Because we’re here.”
“At a lighthouse? It’s got to be closed.”
“It is closed.” He turned off the engine, got out and came around to open my door.
“Then why are we here?”
“Just trust me on this.” He took my hand, and we walked the path to the lighthouse. In the distance I saw a figure leaning against the structure.
I decided to take Colin up on his challenge and trusted him.
“Hey, man, it’s all yours.” A guy maybe a year or two older than me nodded up at the lighthouse.
“Thanks, I owe you.”
Still trying to make sense of things, I followed Colin into the base of the towering brick structure. Colin’s flashlight was the only thing lighting our way up the hundreds of steps in the spiral staircase. I held onto the metal railing, wondering what Colin had waiting for us. Surely he wasn’t having me climb that many steps for the fun of it. I’d heard there was a gorgeous view, but I doubted we’d be able to see much so late at night.
Nearly to the top, he leaned down to whisper to me. “Stay back for a minute. I need to set something up.”
“Okay. I’m going to trust that you’re not leading me to my death.”
He laughed. “You can trust me.”
I waited, trying not to let the thought that I was in a hundreds-of-year-old structure late at night freak me out.
“Maddy?” Colin called down. “Can you see well enough to make it up?”
“Sure.” I slowly made my way up the last three steps and my jaw dropped for the second time that night.
“Okay, I’m impressed.” I took in the pillar candles, the rose pedals, and the cushions strategically placed on the floor of the circular room. Then my eyes went to the bottle of champagne waiting on ice. “I thought you said this wasn’t going to be romantic?”
“No. I said I didn’t promise romance…that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give it to you.” He grinned, clearly happy with my response.
“This is impressive.” The setup blew any previous romantic gesture anyone had done for me out of the water. I couldn’t believe he’d go through so much effort for a date.
“Good. Glad to know I was successful.”
“But isn’t this illegal? I mean, the lighthouse is closed.”
“I work with some people who work here.”
“That’s kind of vague.” Colin didn’t strike me as the rule breaking type, so I assumed there was a good explanation.
“It’s not worth going into the details.”
“You like the whole mysterious vibe, don’t you?”
“Only if it works.”
“It’s kind of sexy.” It was, even if it also went counter to the image I had of Colin. I’d viewed him as a “straight and narrow, vanilla and sort of boring—although extremely attractive”—guy. He was more interesting than I gave him credit for. Certainly more than his IPA preference suggested.
“There is one more thing.” He opened a small cooler I hadn’t noticed on my initial perusal.
“Are those chocolate-covered strawberries?” I didn’t bother to keep the excitement out of my voice.
“I remembered how much you liked them.”
“You are really scoring points tonight.”
“That was the plan.”
“It looks like you have your movie partner.” I took a strawberry, more excited about the decadent fruit than the champagne waiting for us.
“Oh yeah? You’re agreeing to weekly movie viewings?”
“Yes. You earned it.”
“Good to know.” He poured us each a glass of champagne.
I took a sip, enjoying the way the bubbles felt on my tongue. “Can we go outside?”
“Yeah, be my guest.” He held open one of the glass doors.
I leaned against the railing, loving the wind on my face, and not caring that the breeze was probably making a rat’s nest out of my hair. There is something about the wind on the ocean that leaves me breathless—it’s almost an emotional experience. Add in the champagne, and the hand resting on my back, and I was sort of in heaven. I say “sort of” because I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was living someone else’s life.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he yelled over the howling wind. “The sheer power of the wind and the waves.”
“I know. It feels like we could fly off this lighthouse and lose ourselves in the waves.”
“I won’t let that happen.” His hand moved from my back to my waist, and he pulled me back against him. I snuggled into his strong chest.
“You mean because of the water—how they change so much?”
“Yeah. That’s what the barrier islands are for. They protect the Outer Banks from the brunt of the storm.”
“Who protects the barrier islands?” I rested my hand in the crux of his arm.
“If I were religious, I might say God. But I’m not. They’re kind of like sacrificial lambs doing their part.”
“That’s kind of sad.”
“Or heroic. That is, if land can be heroic.”
“Anything can be heroic.” I snuggled back into him more.
“You think of things so differently from everyone else I know.”
“Or maybe I just say what’s on my mind. I’m tired of filtering my thoughts and feelings.”
He ran his hands over my arms. “Good. I don’t want you to. I like knowing what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“Right now, I’m content.” I turned around in his arms.
“Content is good.” He put a hand on either side of me, pushing me back against the railing. “Happy would be better.”
“Why? Content is just as good.”
“Happy is better.” His eyes bore into mine as though he were trying to convey his message through them. “I want to make you happy.”
“That’s a big statement to make about someone you barely know.”
“You don’t think I know you?” The disappointment in his voice was palpable.
“No.”
“Wow. No hesitation.” He let out a short breath. “Then how do I get to know you?”
“How do you know you’ll like what you find?”
“I will.” He stepped back, taking my hand to walk us back inside. “I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get?” Without the wind, I wasn’t so comfortable being open.
“How a girl as beautiful and cool as you could have such a poor self-image.” He closed the door behind us, cutting off the sound and feel of the howling wind.
“My self-image is fine.”
“No, it’s not.” He picked up his champagne flute from the floor where he left it. “I wish I knew who messed it up.”