The walk to Wren’s apartment was entirely too quick. Once they reached it, they stopped on the sidewalk, right outside the door. She pointed to the front right window on the second floor. “My apartment is up there. There are two downstairs, two up.”
“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said, in that tone that said he was doing so no matter what she said. Not that she minded. She wasn’t eager to say good night.
When they reached her door, she turned to face him. “Would you like to come in…for a glass of wine?” she hastily added, hoping her invitation wasn’t too forward. “Or, I mean…if you’d rather go back to the dance, I?—”
Grayson stepped closer. Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the light scent of his cologne.
“Wren.” The way he said her name sent butterflies whirling in her stomach.
“I want to be where you are.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, gently. It was everything she never expected from a man who was so large and confident and, quite frankly, intimidating. For her first two attempts at dating, she had chosen men who were slighter, smaller, and who were also quieter—like her.
“Oh,” she whispered.
He grinned. “I’d love to come in for a drink.”
“Okay,” she replied breathlessly.
His lips were close enough to hers, it would take very little effort to cut the distance and kiss him. Not that she was bold enough to do that, but damn if she didn’t wish she was.
For the first time, she wondered if maybe Sophie was right. That she wasn’t damaged, wasn’t too far gone for a real relationship.
As she unlocked the door, she realized this was the first time she’d ever invited a man into her apartment who wasn’t her father or her brother or Manny, when he came to fix the plumbing. The thought should have made her anxious, but instead, she felt oddly calm.
Honestly, she was starting to think this man had cast some sort of spell on her. As fantastical as that sounded, it was the only thing that made sense to her since for too many years, fear had been her best friend.
“It’s kind of small,” she said as they entered.
Grayson closed the door behind him before looking around. Her place wasn’t fancy, but it was functional and just enough for her. A soft blanket was draped over the back of the couch and there were plants scattered all around. She told herself that one day, she’d buy her own house, one with a small vegetable garden in the back and flowerpots full of colorful blooms on the front porch.
“It’s cozy,” he said, gesturing toward one wall that contained a large bookshelf, overloaded with paperbacks. “I had no idea you enjoyed reading,” he joked.
She smacked his forearm. “Ha ha. Make yourself comfortable.” She pointed to the couch. “I’ll go grab the wine.”
She quickly went into the kitchen, grateful she was a tidy person by nature. Even though the apartment was relatively clean, if she’d known Grayson would be here, she would have scrubbed the hell out of it today.
Picking up the bottle, corkscrew, and two glasses, she returned to the living room.
Grayson smiled when he saw the Lightning in a Bottle label. “Good choice,” he teased, as he took the corkscrew from her and opened the bottle of red with a practiced hand. Then he filled each of the glasses, handing her one, looking very at home in her space.
God, it was such a turn-on.
They tapped their glasses in a silent cheers and took a sip. “This place suits you.”
She smiled. “It does?”
“Yeah. It’s peaceful.”
No one had ever described her apartment that way before, but that was certainly the way her home made her feel. She liked that he recognized that.
He swirled the wine in his glass. “Damn fine wine.” It was obvious he was joking with her, considering he was the one who’d made it.
“I fell in love with it at the festival. Afterward, I begged Lark to pick up a couple bottles for me.”
“It’s one of my favorites too, but I’ve got another small batch of red we didn’t take to the festival that I think you’ll like even more. You should come to the winery one day soon. I’ll give you your own private tasting.”
Wren’s cheeks heated. She was certain she was only blushing because her newly developed dirty mind instantly started thinking about some other things she wanted to do with him in private.
They settled deeper into the couch together, and, like at the library, the conversation flowed easily between them.
