“Look, I know we’re guests and you need to be polite, but youliterally just sat down and drankmywine frommyglass, so cut the nice guy shit, okay? Spill the real tea.”
Josh laughs. “Fine. Fine.” He takes another sip, then leans in like he’s got the best secret. Naturally, we lean in too.
“That family is the fuckin’ worst. And I really hope they’re checking out soon because it feels like they’ve been here forever. This is their third sunset cruisein a row. They’ve been on them every goddamn night. Sometimes it’s just the parents, or the whole family, or just the two girls and ugh, it’s brutal. They have literally nothing of quality to talk about.” He blows out a breath as if he just released the heaviest burden.
“Tonight, they spent most of their time talking about golf, which is fine. I enjoy playing golf. But I don’t need to dissect the game I play for hours. Meanwhile, the two twenty-somethings sit on their phones taking selfies thewhole time. How many pictures of your own face are needed on your phone? Then they complain they can’t access TikTok out in the middle of the lake.How are they going to keep their followers up to date on their every move without access to the internet?they ask. Um, hi. Why are you on a sunset cruise if all you’re going to do is look at your phone? Make it make sense.” Josh scrubs his face with his hands, grabs the wine, and takes another generous sip.
Clearly, Josh has been holding onto some feelings.
“Feel better?” Viv asks.
“Yes, thank you. Sometimes, a good vent sesh is the best medicine. And this red wine—damn it’s delicious.” He grabs the bottle, inspecting the label and taking a picture with his phone.
“You don’t strike me as a golfer,” I say. “All the golfers I’ve ever met in the city are dripping in khakis and sweater vests with matching tucked-in Vineyard Vines shirts.”
Josh snorts. “I enjoy the game. I’m not good at it, but I enjoy it. Plus the pants make my ass look fucking fantastic.”
“What the hell, man?” Luke calls, taking the last steps up tothe patio with long strides “You just left me there. You were supposed to come back after bringing the garbage up.”
Ladies and gentlemen, Luke has made it to the patio, and with him, the butterflies that are taking up permanent residence in my stomach.
He drops into another chair at the table and leans back. “Hi, ladies.”
We lift our hands in unison.
“They had wine. I am not sorry.” Josh shrugs, reaching for his glass to take another sip.
Tonight, Luke is in a fitted V-neck t-shirt and shorts that look like they could double as a bathing suit. Not only are his muscular legs on display but so are his feet, clad in leather flip-flops. Maybe because of last night’s conversation—I don’t know—but I look at his feet. And I hate to admit it, but they aren’t that bad. There’s nothing gross and scaly about them, and his toenails are even a normal color.
Luke catches me looking, because why wouldn’t he? “See? I have nice toes.”
“Mmm, agree to disagree. Feet aren’t nice. Keep those things away from me.” I hold my hands in front of me, shielding my view.
“Okay, someone needs to fill me in on this story, please,” Viv says.
Josh hops up to get another wine glass and a beer for Luke, and then we all get comfortable for an evening in.
“He said you’re tooold? At 30? Damn. Guess we better find this guy a nursing home then.” Josh hikes a thumb toward Luke. “He’s 32!”
“You’ll be right alongside me, Joshy. You’re only a year younger,” Luke says.
“Good ol’ Bad Date Bradley, making us all feel decrepit in our thirties,” Viv adds.
“I want to check out the vineyard,” I say, looking at Josh and Luke.
“Samesies,” Viv chimes in.
“You should! Great wine, great vibes. I highly recommend it,” Josh says while Luke’s head bobs up and down in agreement.
“Yeah, business has been slower here with the surrounding towns growing bigger and providing more for tourists—museums, several breweries to our one, more shopping, restaurants. They just havemore. It’s hard to compete against that,” Luke says, picking at the label of his beer bottle.
“Um, excuse me. Maple Cove’s food, from what I can tell so far, is orgasmic. So, I think that should be a tagline or something. If you write it, they will come.” Viv downs the last of her wine.
“Maybe you just need more exposure,” I say.
Luke considers me, his hand scratching the hair on his chin. “Yeah, maybe.”
The conversation circulates around the table effortlessly, but I find I’m half paying attention. I’m hyperaware of every move Luke makes. The way his forearm rubs against mine, or when his knee brushes against me. Every point of contact is electric, sending my skin buzzing.
