Page 9 of Sipping Seduction
“I kissed him before that.” A shiver rolled through me as I remembered that afternoon in vivid detail. “And that lunch was our last date.”
“Thank goodness. You haven’t seen Andrew’s toes yet, have you?”
“No.” I thought about it for a second. “Wait. Yes, I did see his toes because he was wearing flip-flops the day we met. He didn’t touch them, though.”
“Still, keep an eye on that. They weren’t long enough to use to cling from a tree branch, were they?”
“Gosh, no.” Charice had a thing against feet. They grossed her out. I wasn’t particularly fond of toes and couldn’t quite understand how someone could develop a fetish for someone else’s little piggies, but they didn’t offend me as much as they seemed to terrify my friend.
“So, what are you going to do about Andrew?” Charice asked. Evidently, she’d had enough toe talk and was ready to turn the attention back to my dating dilemma.
“We’re going out on Saturday. He invited me to a three-course dinner with wine pairing at the vineyard out past Bordent.” A funny feeling bubbled up in my belly. I wasn’t sure if it was anticipation or regret. It might have just been the aftereffect of loading my body with gluten after cutting out carbs for so long.
Charice clucked her tongue. “A second date already? He must really like you.”
I leaned forward to set the glass on the coffee table, not liking the way my hand shook. “Or maybe he just happened to have an extra ticket and no one to take.”
“Mm-hmm. Because most men I know would totally be down for grabbing two tickets to a fancy dinner without having someone to go with. He’s probably one of those guys who likes to dress up for no reason and carries his laptop around in a leather attaché case instead of a backpack. Am I right?”
Andrew was a good dresser, but there was nothing wrong with that. “Maybe someone gave him the tickets. Maybe he was going to take his mom, and she came down with a cold.”
“Ooh, you don’t want a mama’s boy, either.”
I blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m getting mixed signals here, Charice. I thought you wanted me to start dating again. Now you’re pointing out red flags that don’t even exist.”
“I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want you to settle on someone who isn’t right for you just because you don’t want to disappoint your dad.”
“I’m not.” I needed to work on my delivery. My protest sounded unconvincing, even to my own ears. “What’s wrong with going on a second date with a good-looking guy who knows how to carry a conversation and doesn’t pick at his toes during meals?”
She laughed. “I hope your standards haven’t sunk that low that those two things are your only criteria.”
“Don’t you have to get to bed so you can get up early to punish yourself?” Charice hated working out but had committed to doing the fundraiser run for our school that was coming up in a few weeks. She’d been trying to get me to join her for her daily runs, but I had zero interest.
“Lucky for you, I do. Want to grab lunch together tomorrow so you can finish filling me in on your date?”
“I’ve got cafeteria duty from eleven to twelve.” Most days, I loved interacting with the kids during lunchtime. The younger ones were so cute when they asked for help to open their milk cartons or squeezable yogurts, and the older kids would give me updates on what was happening in their lives outside of school. The first week back was always chaotic. Everyone forgot their lunch PINs over the summer or didn’t have money set up in their account yet. I didn’t mind pitching in.
“Oooh, they’re serving macaroni and cheese bites for lunch tomorrow. We can grab lunch when you’re done with your shift at noon.”
“You can grab mac and cheese. I’m going back to no-carbs after tonight.” My stomach gurgled in appreciation.
“As long as I get the details, I don’t care what you eat. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Have a good night.” We hung up, and I tried to figure out what I could tell Charice about my date during lunch tomorrow. Not much. He was a gentleman the whole time. It had been a really nice evening.
Nice… there was that word again.
Charice was right. I didn’t want to feel pressured to latch on to the first man who showed an interest in me just so my dad could walk me down the aisle. But… there just weren’t that many options in Beaver Bluff, Tennessee. Two of the Bishop brothers were already taken, leaving Evan, my very platonic best friend, and his older brother, Vaughn.
Evan wasn’t an option. We’d known each other too long. Back in high school, I’d had a crush on him, but I’d talked myself out of it. I couldn’t imagine falling for someone who used to hide worms in my desk. And Vaughn… he was way too grumpy. That left the Stewart brothers. I’d never betray Evan by dating someone from the Stewart family who worked at the distillery with him, no matter how silly I thought the feud between the two families was.
Andrew might be a Stewart, but his side of the family wasn’t involved in the distillery. Based on my rationale, that made him a viable option. But what would Evan think?
It was too late to try to wrap my head around how Evan might feel about me going out with someone with the wrong last name.
“What do you think, Pete the Dog? Am I overthinking things again?”
He answered by nudging his nose into my leg—his way of letting me know it was time to go outside. I got up and crouched to bury my fingers in his thick fur. Charice might have an advanced degree in counseling, but sometimes just being around a dog was the best kind of therapy.
