Page 44 of Wild Abandon

Who would have guessed that Nate was a baseball fan? He seems so too cool about life to be an all-American sports lover. At least he likes animals.

I give Willie my full attention again. “I had a cat. Mr. Magoo. He would have liked you.”

“Cats are the devil’s foot soldiers.”

I stop rubbing Willie’s ears for a moment to look back at Nate. He is still standing there, all tall and lean. His square jaw and high cheekbones offset those almond-shaped eyes that are a sin for men to have. I suppose it’s for the best that he’s a sports-loving cat hater.

I stand up and readjust my sheet. “I should get out of here. Where are my clothes?”

Nate releases his hands from the counter and folds them across his chest. “I washed them last night after you went to sleep.”

“They’re dry-clean only,” I groan.

“I know. I washed them by hand. They’re hanging in the bathroom,” he answers, like it’s the most normal thing for a man to hand-wash the clothes of a woman who he kinda knows but mostly doesn’t know before hanging them to dry. Most guys would have left them in a ball on the floor. “I don’t have a washer anyway, so it was wash them or have you smell like stinky whiskey all day,” he adds.

I have a light rush of déjà vu.

“Oh. Okay. Well, that was very nice of you, I guess.” I think back on something he just said. “Why would I be wearing them all day?”

Nate puts his hands in his pockets and lowers his chin in a way that he has to peer up at me from underneath the lid of his cap. “We’re going wine-tasting today.”

I blink back at him. “We are?”

“We made plans last night. You said you’d never gone wine-tasting and asked if I’d take you.”

“And you said you would?” Why am I surprised by this?

Nate pauses a moment and then takes his hands out of his pockets. He stands up straight and motions toward the bathroom. “Yes. So, get your ass dressed, so we can go.”

“I’m not wearing last night’s clothes. And I need makeup. I can’t go anywhere, looking like this.” I haven’t even looked in a mirror, and I know that I look like the quintessential walk of shame, minus the actual shaming.

“We’re not driving a half hour to St. Helena, so you can spend an hour changing. Your clothes are clean, and you don’t need makeup. It’s just me.”

Just him.

Yeah. Sure. I can spend the day with a guy while looking like last night’s leftovers. Not! I need a new outfit, something appropriate for a wine tasting. And I need to blow my hair out and put makeup on my face.

Just him.

What if we’re out and I see someone I know? Unlikely. Because the only people I know in this town are…

Just him.

I grab my purse and turn on my heel toward the bathroom. “Fine. But if anyone makes any comments about the hag you’re with, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I get to the bathroom, shut the door, and look in the mirror. My face looks like I’ve aged five years. The caked on eye makeup is smeared around my eyes. My hair is wild yet manageable since I curled it before I went out last night. I take a sniff under my arms. My body reeks like a liquor cabinet.

I take a giant swig of my coffee and turn on the shower.

I wrap my hair in a towel, drop the sheet on the ground, and climb in. There are no frilly body washes or a loofah in sight. I pick up the simple bar of soap and lather down.

Out of the shower, I dress in last night’s clothes that are on a hanger on the back of the door. I open the surrounding cabinets in search of a hairbrush, but there isn’t one or a spare toothbrush. Making do with what I can, I run my hands through my hair and use my finger and toothpaste to rid the stink from my breath.

A dig through my bag discovers mascara, lip gloss, and a rogue piece of gum. I haven’t been this au naturel with a man since I was in junior high school.

Walking back into the living room, I see Nate coming in through the front door. He closes it behind him and does a double take when he sees me standing here. I look down at the small white shopping bag in his hand.

He holds it out to me. “I went to the pharmacy down the road. Got you a toothbrush.”