“He might. He’s not done relationships before. In fact, I don’t think he’s ever been on a proper date.”
She was quiet for a moment, rubbing her belly, which seemed to be her new thing to do when she was deep in thought. “There’s no point in telling you to be careful because he might break your heart, is there?”
“No. Because you could say that about anyone. I haven’t liked anyone this much for, well, ever, really. I know this might not have a happy ending, but I don’t have anything left to lose. You can recover from heartbreak, and it might not happen, anyway.” I couldn’t go into this thinking it was doomed, and something told me it wasn’t. It might not be a smooth path, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be worth it.
“I think he really likes you. I’d go as far to say it’s more than that.”
My stomach trampolined with excitement. “What makes you think that?”
“The way he looks at you. How much he hung around here. Don’t forget, I’ve known Jesse since he joined the club. I knew he was into some — I don’t know how to describe it, kinky? — stuff, and I never knew of him being involved with anyone. He had a lot of interest, but never took anyone up on it.” Amber stretched out her legs. “I remember a model hanging around for him. You’d know of her.”
She gave me her name and I gave myself thirty seconds to wonder what Jesse saw in me that he hadn’t seen in her.
“Maybe I’m the right person at the right time.” I could leave it at that. My stomach wasn’t as flat as it could be, and my ass definitely had a shade of wobble to it, but I liked who I was, and I also liked cake. “What did Nate say?”
Amber shrugged. “I don’t think he’s surprised. You had that phone call with him while you were away, and he was quiet about it when I asked him. He likes Jesse — everyone does. I know Jesse has his tastes in bed, but that’s nothing to do with Nate. He also knows that Jesse’s never had a girlfriend before — I think he’s just worried you’ll end up hurting each other and he’ll be in the middle.”
I took another mouthful of wine. This was a bottle I’d brought back from the chateau, and I was seriously considering getting some more shipped over. “That could happen. But could doesn’t mean it’s a reason not to try.”
“You’re right. And I’m guessing you think it’s got a chance of working out?”
I nodded, certain about this. “No one’s ever made me feel like he does. I like him, Amber. I really like him a lot.”
She pushed herself out of the chair with a groan. “I need to pee. Baby’s on my bladder again. I think he thinks it’s a football. When I get back, I want to hear all about the size of Jesse’s dick.”
I laughed, drinking more wine. I was surprised it had taken her so long to ask.
CHAPTER15
Jesse
Sportingability clearly ran in families.
I’d asked Nate if his sister was any decent at bowling, and he’d confessed that he didn’t have a clue, it had been that long since he’d been bowling with her.
I now wondered if he’d said that to lull me into a false sense of security, because Jerrica kicked my arse, and I’d thought I was fairly decent at rolling a bowl towards twelve pins.
She’d picked me up looking like something that I thought my future might be, smiling and giddy because like she said, this was just about having fun.
Which we did. Three games, and she won two, me just about scraping a win in the second game. I claimed I was distracted by her ass in those tight jeans, but she counter claimed that she was finding it hard to not stare at my biceps.
We sat next to each other afterwards, Jerrica devouring a burger, while I was almost good, sticking with a steak and salad. She drove us back to mine afterwards, the conversation bouncing between what else she was good at and me trying to impress her in ways reminiscent of a fourteen-year-old boy.
“What happens now?” I asked as she pulled up on my driveway, the electric gates closing behind her. “What does date etiquette require?”
“You can ask me in for a coffee or a glass of wine.” She turned off the engine.
“If you have wine, you won’t drive.” She was strict on that. No driving if any alcohol had been drunk. “Do you want to stay? Can that happen on a first date?” I knew damn well it could, but I wanted to know where her head was at.
“I’d like to stay. This wasn’t really our first date. I think we had a few dates in France, we just didn’t call them that.”
She was right. Meals together, touring the vineyards, lying by the pool with my fingers brushing against hers because I couldn’t not touch her. “You’re staying then?”
“You have to ask me first. Or invite me in and then suggest I stay. Say something that makes you sound like you couldn’t possibly go on living if I didn’t stay the night so you could have your wicked way with me and then hold me while I fall asleep in your arms.” She was laughing, her face creased with amusement.
“Is that what the heroes in your books say?” I knew damn well they didn’t. I’d read both of them by now, which gave me a little more insight into what possibly made her tick.
“I don’t want a hero in one of my books.” She opened her door.
