Page 81 of Keepsake
“You cold?” she asked eventually.
“No,” I laughed. What was cold? I couldn’t even remember feeling anything unpleasant. “Are you?”
“Not yet. But we should probably rinse off and get out. Our fingers are probably pruny.”
“Totally worth it,” I mumbled.
She smiled at me as she peeled herself off my body. She turned on the warm water and rinsed that beautiful body off while I watched. Then she carefully got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a big white towel.
Reluctantly I stirred, too. “Can I take you to dinner now, before it’s too late?” I asked.
Her eyes darted to the clock. It was eight-thirty. “Let’s go before I tuck myself into that bed with you instead.”
As if I’d argue.
22
Lark
Iputon a pair of dark-wash jeans, along with a cashmere sweater. They were the nicest clothes I’d brought to Vermont. I’d considered asking to borrow something from May, but then I chickened out. We hadn’t discussed Zach again, and her disapproval had really bothered me.
When we were both ready, Zach took my hand and led me to the tavern room for dinner. It was a gorgeous room—low and long, the ceiling and walls clad in dark wood. Candlelight flickered on every table.
“Sit anywhere,” a waiter in a crisp white shirt invited us.
Zach chose a small table by the fireplace and pulled out my chair. Then he sat down opposite me. There were two red stains on his cheeks, and his lips were still flushed red from our lovemaking.
“You clean up nice,” I teased, admiring the V of honeyed skin showing in the open collar of the shirt he’d chosen. “Who’d guess we spent the day selling apples off a truck?”
“As do you.” His blue eyes smiled at me.
“Not bad for a redneck.”
He leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed and happy. “The growing season in Vermont is really too short to make me a redneck. Pink, maybe.”
A waiter hurried up with two menus. “Good evening. Here is our wine list. There is also a selection of local craft beers, and I’m told we just received a new shipment of local ciders by Shipley…”
Zach and I burst out laughing, startling the waiter.
“Sorry!” I said. “We delivered the cider.”
“Oh.” He gave us a polite smile. “I guess I don’t need to describe it, then.”
“Not to us,” I said. “We’ll probably choose a bottle of wine. Cider is our day job.”
He left us with the menu, and I realized I was starving. “Ooh, oysters! Are you a fan?”
Slowly, Zach shook his head. “I’ve learned to eat a ton of new foods since I came to Vermont. But those don’t do it for me.”
“They’re supposed to be an aphrodisiac,” I teased.
He beckoned to me, and I leaned across the table. “Just smile at me. That’s all it takes.”
My heart contracted with happiness. Zach was a beautiful person inside and out. And for some reason he chose me. I didn’t know why. I couldn’t understand why, and my confidence was shot to hell. But whenever he calmly put a hand on my back, I felt less alone. And when he held my hand he reminded me that I hadn’t always felt this way.
That it might get easier.
I ordered the red snapper with Israeli couscous and he ordered the saddle of rabbit with porcini risotto. “Red wine okay?” I asked.
