Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
I laughed and shook her hand. “I’ll give you a hint—the secret ingredient is vodka.”
“Is it really?” April squealed. “Good Lord, I love her. Such a spitfire. And she’s gotta be what, ninety?”
“Ninety-three next month,” I confirmed.
April shook her head. “Unbelievable. I hope I’m in that kind of condition at her age, and loving my life as much.”
“Same.”
“April is the event planner here,” Ryan said. “We work together a lot.”
“Which is a nice way of saying I’m always asking him to move furniture around.” April laughed as she pulled two menus from the hostess stand.
“My sister is an event planner,” I told her. “She does tons of weddings, so I know how much work they are.”
April smiled. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you. Right this way, I have a great table for you. It’s surprisingly busy in here tonight, so I’m glad you called, Ryan.” Over her shoulder, she stage-whispered to me, “We don’t normally take reservations, but this guy is special.”
I smiled. “I agree.”
The table was near the fireplace, which crackled invitingly and made the large room feel warm and cozy. Or maybe it was the bottle of wine we polished off. Or the attraction simmering between us.
As our meal progressed, from Caesar salad prepared tableside to a wood-fired pizza to beef medallions served with ginger-glazed carrots—all of which we shared since the menu looked so good we couldn’t choose—it was clear that I hadn’t imagined the easy connection I’d felt at his house last night. He wasn’t talkative by any means, and he tended to answer questions about himself with as few words as possible, but he was an attentive listener, asked more about my family and hobbies, and teased me occasionally about my sheltered upbringing.
He found it funny that I’d never had a broken bone (“What can I say? I was careful!”), kept my own swear jar as a kid (“Most words were a quarter, but I once whispered the F word after I stubbed a toe and made myself put in a dollar.”), and thought oral sex meant talking dirty (“In my books, they never specified what it was! I just knew something steamy was happening!”).
He’d had to wipe tears after that one. “Oh God, that’s perfect.”
“That’s nothing,” I said, tipsy from the wine and loving his laughter. I lowered my voice. “I also thought penises were erect all the time.”
He nearly choked on the bite he’d just put in his mouth. “What?”
“Again, I feel books may have led me astray here. The men were always hard in those scenes. And then later, any time I saw or felt one …”
“Oh my God.” He reached for his water and took several long swallows. “I can’t imagine what a rude awakening that must have been.”
I cringed. “Yeah. It was bad.”
“Now you have to tell me.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“Tell me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. “So I was making out with this guy my freshman year of college, and he sort of shoved my hand down his pants, but it was all … flaccid,” I whispered, flopping my hand at the wrist. “Like a wet noodle. I asked him what was wrong with it.”
Ryan burst out laughing. “You scarred that guy for life. But he deserved it.”
“He did.” I set my fork down and picked up my water. “Now your turn. Any embarrassing sexual experiences?”
“Yeah. Last night with you, I was too fast.”
“Stop. You were not.”
“I was.” He finished off the last of his wine. “But maybe you’ll let me make it up to you tonight.”
My core muscles clenched. “Maybe.”
We decided against having dessert.
After Ryan paid the bill—we discovered our bottle of wine had been comped—and left a generous tip, we were on our way out when April came hurrying up, a worried look on her face. “Hey, I hate to do this to you, but there’s a couple with a flat tire in the driveway. They might have driven over a nail or something. The guy was trying to change it, but he’s drunk and kinda clueless. It’s the Foxes, do you know them? They’re regulars.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Say no more. I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. “I know you’re on a date. I hope I’m not ruining it.”
“It’s not a date,” I assured her, giving Ryan a private smile. “You’re fine.”
He returned the smile, and I thought to myself, Nothing can ruin tonight.
Cue drunk asshole.
April brought us over to the car, a black Lexus sedan, which was parked along the circular drive in front of the inn. “Mr. and Mrs. Fox, this is Ryan Woods. He’s part of our crew here, and even though he’s not on duty at the moment, he’s going to help you out.”
The couple looked to be about my parents’ age, early sixties maybe. They were well-dressed, and the woman wore quite a bit of jewelry. “How nice,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m afraid Chad isn’t much good at these things.”