“You sure?” Carly asks.
He waves a hand at her. “It’s not a problem. I can finish telling her the story from the other night,” he insists.
Carly leans up and kisses his cheek. “Thank you, Al. You’re the best,” Carly says.
Al leaves us and picks up a tired Ava as he walks out toward the villa. Ava gives us a sleepy wave from over his shoulder.
Carly looks at a table past ours, and I follow her gaze. Margie and Cornelia are sitting with their dates. And they all look very close, with the men practically fawning over the two of them.
“I can’t believe they pulled it off,” Carly murmurs as I take her in my arms and spin us around.
“Me either. The real test will be if they can make it through the wedding tomorrow,” I state.
“No doubt,” she replies, her arms coming around my neck. The song changes to something slower. We both pause. An awkward silence falls between us.
“Should we, uh,” Carly starts.
“How about we grab one of those bottles and watch the sun set?” I suggest as I point to the rows of wine bottles at the bar.
Carly grins up at me. “I like that idea,” she says.
I twirl her around and off the dance floor. She laughs as I spin her one last time with a flourish and dip her. It takes every ounce of my resolve not to kiss her as she looks up at me. Slowly, I raise her back up and, placing my hand on the small of her back, I escort her to the bar and out the side door to a patio overlooking the back hills of the vineyard. It’s quiet here away from the music. The sounds of nature can be heard around us.
“So, are we going to talk about that app matching us or what?” Carly asks as we settle onto an outdoor sofa. Shit.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Carly
I love making him squirm. I got a notification of a new match a few hours ago. To say I was shocked to see Bray pop up on my app is an understatement. I’m honestly not sure if he figured out I was on the app after our brief discussion about me dating, or if we randomly were both on there and matched. Either way, he swiped in the right direction and matched with me. I have no idea what this means.
He runs a hand through his hair and sets the wine bottle down. Without looking at me, he opens the wine bottle’s screw-off lid and then takes a sip from it before holding it out for me.
“I forgot my glasses,” he says as his gaze finally meets mine. He takes a second swig of the wine without breaking contact and passes it to me. It feels like he’s offering me a little alcohol to help me be brave.
I take it and drink while watching him.
“This is too intense,” I whisper while maintaining eye contact.
“What should we do, then?” he asks.
“First, tell me why you swiped right?” I ask, leaning back a little because his woodsy cologne is invading my nostrils and I can’t think straight.
He clears his throat and swallows. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs.
“I…” He trails off and leans back. His head falls onto the back of the cushion, and he looks up at the sky. It’s starting to turn orange and red. The sun is setting in the distance, providing a spectacular color display.
“You what?” I prod.
He turns his head to look at me again. “Have you ever thought about me as more than a friend?”
My eyes widen in surprise at his frankness.
“So you have?” he says as he looks at me.
I shrug. “I suppose.” I pause, and he raises an eyebrow. Fuck. This man knows me so well. I can’t lie. He’s like some weird human lie detector. He knows.
“Fine, yes,” I reply.
