He knocked, and a second later, I opened the door.
“Hi,” I said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Like I was overdressed.
His eyes widened, and his mouth hung open. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as I looked at the dark cords that sat low on his hips, the button-down shirt that stretched across his shoulders, and his hair still damp like he’d just gotten out of the shower.
“Thank you. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”
His gaze traveled from my face down my body and back up again in a way that made my skin prickle with awareness. “Ready?”
“Ready.” I locked the door behind me and let him lead me to his truck, his hand on the small of my back burning through the velvet of my dress.
Whatever happened tonight—whatever I told him, however he reacted—at least I’d know I’d tried. At least I’d chosen to be brave instead of safe. I just prayed I could go through with it.
11
SNAPPER
Ispent the afternoon trying to keep busy and failing miserably. I reviewed the harvest plan even though I knew it could change multiple times before we were certain it was time to pick. After pacing around my house like a caged animal for too long, I gave up and went for a run.
At four-thirty, I showered and stood in front of my closet, trying to figure out what the hell to wear. Jeans felt too casual. Dress pants felt too formal. I settled on dark cords and a button-down shirt, then immediately second-guessed myself and was about to change when my phone buzzed with a text from Eberly.Everything’s ready. You’re going to love it.
At six-thirty, I gave up on waiting and headed to Saffron’s house even though I could make the drive in an easy ten minutes. Still, it felt like an hour. When I arrived at her house, my palms were sweating.
Get it together, Avila.
I made it up the porch steps and knocked before I could talk myself into getting in my truck and coming back in fifteen minutes—when I was actually supposed to arrive. When the door opened, every coherent thought I’d ever had evaporated.
Saffron wore a deep-green dress that looked like it was made of velvet. It was fitted at the waist, then flowed from there to hit just above her knees. Her hair was down, falling in soft waves past her shoulders, and she’d put on makeup—not much, but enough that her eyes looked bigger and her lips so soft that it made me want to kiss her.
“Ready?” I asked after telling her how beautiful she looked.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” I said, leading her outside.
I opened the passenger door and tried not to stare at her legs as she climbed in. Tried and failed.
The air on the return trip to Los Cab felt like it did before a thunderstorm. Saffron kept her hands folded in her lap, occasionally glancing over at me like she wanted to say something but couldn’t bring herself to. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.
“You’re being very mysterious about this,” she commented.
“Is that a bad thing?”
She smiled. “I don’t know yet.”
I drove through the main gates and took the west road that led to the Stonehouse. I parked near the entrance and came around to open Saffron’s door.
“I haven’t been here since Bit and Eberly transformed it into this,” she said, waving her hands at the garden. “Snapper, it’s...” she started as I led her inside.
“Do you like it?”
“Like it? I—” She stepped forward slowly, taking it all in—the wine already breathing on the table, the food being kept warm in covered dishes.
She shook her head. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“No?” I helped her with her chair, and she sat, still looking around as though she couldn’t believe it was real. I poured thefirst wine—a Pinot Noir from three years ago that I knew was one of our best—and settled across from her.
