Page 29 of Kiss My Glass
“No!” Danny and I chorus.
“I don’t want to be a buzzkill,” says Nate. “But will you two actually have any time to help as promised?”
“Of course,” I say. “All of this will happen in our down-time.”
“Don’t worry, bro,” says Danny. “Unless we get eaten by bears while out hiking, you can rest assured that everything will be taken care of.”
ChapterSixteen
DANNY
“So? You and Frankie?”
I’m impressed. Nate made it through a whole hour of work before cracking.
“It’s not me and her yet,” I reply. “I’ve got to dance, shop, and brewsky-taste my way into her good books first.”
“Not to mention the ol’ pickleball,” Nate reminds me.
“Can’t be harder than tennis, can it?” I say. “I’ve had plenty of experience being run all over the court by Izzy and Max. Should have built upsomeskills. Aside from losing, that is.”
This morning, Nate asked me to help him set up an online sales system. Before he took over, Flora Valley Wines’ sales were made entirely via personal phone calls, last year by Shelby, and in all the years before that by her dad. Orders were written down in a notebook that was stored alongside the family photo albums. Because their customers are like family, according to Shelby. This year, Nate also wants to run sales through their new website, but tech isn’t his forte, and he wants my advice on the system that will work best. I’m not super tech-savvy myself, but I do know what customer information is most useful to collect. It’s not what you might expect, either. All the usual data online forms insist on gathering, such as age, gender, address, purchase history, etc., doesn’t get to the heart ofwhypeople buy. Crack that code with a few pertinent questions, and you’ll be streets ahead of any competitor.
I’m aware of the irony. I still have no idea why Frankie suddenly came up with this plan. Until then, I’d been under the impression she still considered me on a level below a parasitic flatworm. And the more I replay that conversation in the car, I more I realize how much she didn’t say. My guess is that Frankie keeps her emotions on a tight leash, and on the rare occasions they slip their collars, she has a hard time pulling them back in line. I think it’s possible that she didtry to kiss me, and that I didn’t imagine it. Then again, I’m often guilty of wishful thinking.
As if he’s read my mind, which I sincerely hope he has not, Nate says, “So you twoaretelling the truth that you haven’t yet?—?”
“Schtupped? Done the nasty? Spelunked the Bat Cave?”
Nate winces. “I’m regretting the question, but yeah.”
“Nope,” I say. “Not even a little kiss.”
“Really?”
Reasonable of Nate to be surprised, I guess, but I can’t prevent a flash of resentment.
“You assumed I would have made a move on her already, because I have no self-control.” I try not to sound huffy. “Frankie’s a cautious person. And I’m happy to go at her speed.”
“I admire your newly found restraint,” says Nate.
He just hadto get that dig in, didn’t he? Time for the boot to go on the other foot.
“And how long after you met did you and Shelby get jiggy with it?” I ask.
Us Durant siblings do have masterful poker faces. But as Ava’s long pointed out – and he’s long denied – Nate has a tell. A tiny twitch of his left eyebrow. I spot it now, and smile on the inside.
“Few weeks,” he says.
“Four? Six? Eighty-five?”
“Maybe three.”
There’s no “maybe” about it. Nate is fanatically precise. He’ll remember to theminutewhen he and Shelby first knocked boots.
But I won’t push him. Mainly because, though I’ll never admit it to him, Nate does have a point. I’ve never needed to wait for sex before. I’ve also never wanted anything more than a fun time, so I’ve never minded if it didn’t last. I’m twenty-six and not a complete schlub, so why would I?
But it feels different with Frankie, and I’m not totally sure why. Yes, she’s gorgeous. Yes, I’m attracted to her. Yes, I like a challenge. There’s something more going on, though, which I can’t put my finger on. Chiara claimed we have a lot in common, and I’mstartingto see that. Maybe all will be revealed when we start uncovering deeper layers of connection.
