“Rumors are true. Fuck, I knew it.” He places his palms together and slowly pulls them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”
“Stop.” I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not telling you the size of his dick.”
“At least tell me he knows how to use it.”
“Oh, he knows.” I sigh, remembering. “He knows.”
“Fuck. You’re so lucky.”
But I don’t feel lucky. I feel like I’ve had a taste of something that will make me thirsty the rest of my life. It doesn’t matter how many margaritas I drink, or how much time passes. I fear I’ll never get over Jackson Wilder, and that scares me most of all.
24
ROSALIE
Saturday afternoon,I drop Edward off at Maeve and Rainer’s, then make the hour drive to a small winery west of Wilder Valley. I’ve never been on a blind date, but apparently there really is a first time for everything, even at thirty-eight years old. My stomach is a jumble of nerves, and even with my AC cranked to full blast, I’m sweating.
What if this goes horribly?
What if we have nothing to talk about?
What if I compare every little thing about him to a certain someone?
Breathe.I remind myself as I pull into the dirt parking lot and find an open space. I’ve never been here, but I’ve always wanted to explore the wineries in the area. I don’t know if Maeve or Clint came up with this location, but either way, it’s a thoughtful setting for this afternoon’s date.
When I walk inside, there’s a young woman to greet me. “Welcome to Ember Ridge Winery. Table for one, or will there be others in your party?”
“I’m actually meeting someone.” I bite the inside of my cheek andthe nerves in the pit of my belly do a little dance. “I’m not sure if he’s here yet.” I don’t tell her that I’m not exactly sure what he looks like in person.
Her smile brightens. “Are you Rosalie?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“I just sat him at a table on the patio.” She motions for me to follow her. “Right this way.”
I swallow my nerves, my feet moving in the right direction, even when my mind suggests I could still turn and run. That’s silly, though. I would never want to stand someone up, and Maeve would never let me live it down. Besides, as much as I don’t feel ready, I need to do this.
I have to move on from Jackson. I want to prove to myself that I can handle going on a date. I need to allow more fun into my life. Besides, if it’s a disaster I never have to do this again. I can leave at any time. I’m in control of my destiny. An afternoon at a winery isn’t going to rock my world.
There’s a wall of windows separating the inside bar and seating from the large patio. There are two other parties seated outside and they’re both larger groups. I spot Clint before he sees me. His knee bounces nervously as he watches the door, and the possibility that he’s as anxious as I am eases my apprehension. He’s handsome, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved button-down. His dark hair is wavy with flecks of gold catching in the light.
The moment I pass through the door and approach his table, his eyes light with recognition. He stands, offering a warm, dimpled smile.
“Rosalie?”
“Clint?” I smile and pause as I reach the table, not knowing what to do next. We aren’t well enough acquainted for a hug, but extending a hand to shake feels too formal. I inwardly panic.
“It’s nice to meet you. Here, let me.” He steps around the table to pull out my chair, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Thank you.” I sit as he slides my chair in. I pick up the menu ashe returns to his seat across from mine, so I have something to look at. Despite his easy smile, my nerves are back in full force.
“How was the drive? I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”
I smile politely. “I’m not usually alone in the car. It was nice to listen to my own music.”
“Maeve said you have a son?”
“Yes. She mentioned you have a son as well?” I picture Maeve badgering him to agree to this date. I wonder if he was as hesitant as I was. “Hopefully you’re here of your own free will. Maeve is a dear friend, but when she gets an idea, she can be quite?—”
