Page 65 of Love Among Vines

“I’m paying,” he said firmly. “I have a gift card.”

She scoffed. “Fine.” Her eyes screwed up, and she took a step closer. “What’s on your ear?”

His hands flew defensively to his head. It wouldn’t be the first time cork shavings had hitched a ride. He drew his hands away and found some flour. He had gotten a bit aggressive in the kitchen before leaving.

“Just some dust,” he said.

She gave him an odd look, then turned to Penny. “Bye, sweetheart,” she said with a kiss on her furry nose.

Rett added a couple enthusiastic pats, and then they climbed in his truck. An alternative radio station played quietly in the background as they descended the hill into town. His hand found hers in the glow of the dash lights. Her hand was small and warm.

“How’s the wrist?” he asked.

“Better today,” she said. “Not that I needed it since I painted exactly nothing today. I did get everything sanded and primed, though. Where are we going, anyway?”

“The Tavern. Our reservations aren’t for another twenty minutes. I thought we could walk around and see if that helps your mural decision.”

“Thank you. That sounds really nice.”

Once he had parked downtown, they prowled the streets. Most of the shops and bakeries had closed down for the day, but maybe some personal history would help.

“Tom projectile vomited into that bush after playing slap the bag the first time I met him.” He pointed to a bush on the edge of the square.

“What exactlyisslap the bag?” she asked.

“No one really knows. It’s sort of a drinking game. That’s how we met. I walked into Cindy’s parents’ house for her graduation party, and Tom ran up to me in an Australian flag-themed shirt while holding a sack of red liquid.”

“So you slapped his bag and you’ve been best friends ever since?”

“Basically.”

“What a meet-cute.” She bumped Rett with her hip.

He had forgotten how nice it was to have a little companionship. A beautiful woman on his arm. Clever conversation. Someone to introduce to the town he loved so much.

He pointed out more special spots, including the site of his senior prank where several classmates had ridden their lawn mowers to school.

“Come on,” he said. “Time for dinner.”

They walked into the Tavern, and the hostess greeted Rett by name. In no time, they were seated at their table with a tantalizing menu spread in front of them.

“Any suggestions?” Jade asked.

“The surf and turf is amazing, but I would go to war for the French onion soup.”

She cast an eye down the menu and shifted in her seat.

“You look distressed.”

She glanced up. “I’m aware that I’m not an expert on this subject, but it seems awfully financially irresponsible to spend a week’s worth of grocery money on one meal.”

He leaned forward. “Occasional splurges are allowed. And remember, it’s on me. Don’t make me order for you.”

She picked the menu back up. “Fine. If we’re going this hard on a Tuesday, what does that mean for our next date?”

“Oh, we’re going to Applebee’s.”

“Good. I love mozzarella sticks.”

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