Every cell in my body is acutely aware of this inconvenient fact. At first, my hands-off approach was to stand out. She’s a woman who gets what she wants.What if she didn’t?But now, it’s because I want to establish a connection to her that isn’t based on sex—a relationship that she can’t easily toss away. I want to create a tie that’s deeper than the curve of her hips and more powerful than the orgasms I’m dying to deliver.
I’m afraid to contemplate what that might mean … for us. Because I know what it means for me. I’m about to get crushed by this beautiful woman and I don’t have enough self-respect to care.
“Oh, wow,” she breathes, stepping inside Table. “What is this place?”
“It’s pretty great, huh?”
“You think?” She takes in the lodge-style architecture with large, rustic beams overhead and a wall of windows delivering the perfect view of the golden hour. Oversized chandeliers hang from the tall ceiling in an unexpected contradiction to the log construction. It’s a play on casual and sophistication that I thought she’d find interesting. “This is beautiful.”
“I was hoping that it would appeal to your artistic nature in a different way than Hess,” I say.
She beams up at me, and I might as well have hit the damn lottery.
I give my name to the hostess, and she asks us to follow her.
We stroll through the dining area and pass the bar where golf stories are swapped, and multi-million-dollar business deals are made. I say hello to a few people I know as we walk by. Gianna sticks to my side, and I can feel her excitement and awe. But her gasp as we enter the outside patio with breathtaking views of the Cumberland River snaking below is everything.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess says, as I pull out Gianna’s chair.
“Was that Kelvin McCoy back there at the bar?” Gianna whispers as I get seated across from her. “The country music star?”
“Yeah.”
“And you know him?”
I shrug. “He probably doesn’t remember my name, but we hung out one night after a concert. A guy I used to play ball with went to high school with him.”
“And I’m in jeans.”
“Andhe probably checked out your ass as we walked by. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Obviously.”
Her cheeks heat, but her playful smirk overrides it. “I’m glad someone checks out my ass. My boyfriend doesn’t seem to want anything to do with it.”
I sit back and shake my head.If she only knew.
“Actually, do you know what? That’s not fair of me,” she says.
I narrow my eyes, curiosity piqued.
“You’ve been such a gentleman. I was talking to my friend Pearl about this and how we haven’t even kissed, and she helped me change my perception. I mean, I’m still sexually frustrated, but I appreciate your restraint. It’s very sweet of you, and I will endeavor to meet your energy.”
“You will, will you?”
“I’ll make this easier on you. I apologize.”
Why does that sound like a challenge?
“Apology accepted,” I say, playing along. I don’t know where this is going, but it’ll undoubtedly be entertaining.
Our server, Raffi, arrives and takes our drink order. Gianna then excuses herself to go to the ladies’ room.
I sit back and breathe in the cool evening air. Discreetly placed heaters blow warmth across the space. Each table has a fireplace at the center, and many diners have chosen to lighttheirs. The flames create a cozy, romantic ambiance that I hope my girl loves.
It’s been a long time since I truly dated a woman. I’ve seen a few here and there, and I’ve asked out a handful of women since my retirement, but none of the dates felt like this. Those felt like a plau—a curated set of moves that are, at the end of the day, the means to a satisfying end. This experience with Gianna feels more real, more meaningful than all the others. And that irony is not lost on me.
My gaze pulls across the patio to the doorway just as Gianna comes through it. The sight of her makes my breath stutter in my chest. Her body is fire with soft, sensual curves in all the right places. She carries herself with the confidence that men are praised for. It’s unapologetic. Poised. Fierce.
But it’s the smirk for me—the wickedness extending from the curl of her lips to the glint in her eye—that has my attention.
