The twinkle of enjoyment in her eyes brought a sudden lightness into my chest.“Butt, bud, they both need to be nipped from time to time.”Her eyes widened, and her cheeks went pink.“I mean … that’s not what I mean.Butts don’t need to be nipped.I—”
I rested my hands on her shoulders.“I get it.Relax,bella.”
Blinking at me, she nodded.“Can I … can I just ask something?”
“Si.Of course.”I released her shoulders and poured the wine from the decanter into a glass for each of us, then handed her one.
“Is this a date?Or just you having me for dinner as a way to say thank you?”
I’d been agonizing over this question myself today.Not whether it was or wasn’t a date, but whether she thought it was a date or not.While I hadn’t yet completely reconciled myself to the fact that I was interested in a woman that was not my wife, I didn’t want to lose Danica from my life.I wanted to see her more often.I wanted to get to know her better.
I chose my words carefully.“I have not been on adatein over twenty years.But I would like to consider this adate… please.”
Her smile was beautiful, and she swallowed.“I would too.And for the record, this is the first date I’ve ever been on.”
“I hope I can make it a nice one.”
She nodded.“So far, so good.”
I released her shoulders and picked up my wineglass from the counter.“To …”
“First dates.Baby horses, and harlot-purple tulips,” she said, clinking her glass against mine.
“To harlot-purple tulips.”
We each brought a glass to our lips and took sips.She watched me like a hawk as I allowed the well-balanced wine to sit on my tongue for a moment.It was no sangiovese from Tuscany, but it wasn’t bad.I swallowed.“Vanilla,” I said, pulling a slow breath through my lips to cool the wine at the back of my tongue.
She nodded.
“And clove.”
Another nod.
“And …” I smacked my lips together, then took another sip.“Mocha,” I finally said.“With a hint of berries at the end.”
“Very good.And I see you swallowed it, so does that mean …?”
“I have had much worse wine than this.”
Her jaw dropped.
“That is a very big compliment.A non-Italian wine has not touched these lips in over twenty years.The fact that I swallowed it is a big deal.”
She took another sip, watching me warily over the rim of the glass.“If you say so.”
“Bella, I do not lie about wine.If I do not like it, I do not drink it.Life is too short to drink bad wine.So the fact that I am drinking it is a very good thing.”
“Are all Italians wine snobs like you?”
I went to the oven to pull out the cannelloni.“Only the most handsome ones.”
Her tinkling laugh once again made my chest feel light, but also full of hope.
“Can we circle back to something else?”she asked.
“Hmm?”I placed the casserole dish of cannelloni on the stove, then removed the mitts from my hands.
“You said, ‘If you let themshenanonce, they willshenanigan.’Were you being serious?”
