That’s when I noticed Ryan was staring at me, transfixed.
“What?” I asked.
“That was sexy as fuck, the way you just did that.”
I smiled, feeling sexy as fuck, for once. “Thanks.”
Five minutes later, we were cruising down the street, my arms wrapped around him, the wind in my face. I can’t say I wasn’t a little apprehensive at being so unprotected on the road, but there was very little traffic, and soon I began to relax. He felt solid and strong inside my embrace, and I pressed close to him. I trusted he would keep me safe.
When we reached the inn, he pulled past the main house and restaurant and drove around the back of one of the outbuildings, a big red barn with a sign over double doors that said CELEBRATION.
He parked on a large brick-paved patio beneath a wooden pergola twined with ivy, and held the bike steady so I could get off. It was dark at this time of night, but I could tell how beautiful the spot would be for an intimate wedding dinner or ceremony, with a view of the vineyard and rolling hills beyond. The back side of the barn had been fitted with huge, multi-paned windows facing west, perfect for viewing the sunset.
“This is so pretty,” I said, removing the helmet. “Is this for weddings?”
“Mostly.”
“Emme should see this. She’s a wedding planner, although most of her events are in or around Detroit.”
“Want to look inside?”
“Sure.”
He had a key that unlocked the double mullion doors between the windows. He opened one for me, and I stepped into a cavernous, shadowy space.
“Just a second, I’ll turn on some lights.” He disappeared, and a moment later, several strands of party lights illuminated one end of the barn, where there was a wooden bar near what might have been a band platform. A second after that, a huge chandelier hanging from a rafter at the center of the building lit up a rectangular dance floor. I could see round tables lining the sides of the space, and one long, rectangular table at the dim far end.
I gasped. “Oh, it’s so beautiful! I can’t imagine how pretty it looks all lit up, with flowers and candles and linens. Emme would be swooning.”
“It does look nice.”
“Do you work at weddings here?”
He shook his head. “Just set up and tear-down.”
“Still an important job. I know how hard my sister works behind the scenes to make sure everything looks effortless.”
He nodded and took my hand. “Stay with me. I need to turn the lights off and I don’t want you to trip. We’ll go out the front doors.”
He’s holding my hand! He’s holding my hand!
A few minutes later, we were strolling down the short paved road to the inn, my hand still inside his. He’d let go of it in order to open the door and re-lock it behind us, but I was glad when he reached for me again.
At the inn’s restaurant, which was on the main floor off the lobby, we were greeted by a woman who smiled warmly at both of us. “Hey, Ryan.”
“Hey, April. Got you working in here tonight, huh?”
“That’s what happens when you’re the boss’s daughter.” She rolled her eyes, but she laughed. “You’d think we’d get special treatment, but nope—we’re always on call to fill in.”
Ryan put a hand on my back. “This is Stella. She’s Ruth Gardner’s granddaughter, visiting from Detroit.”
April smiled and held out her hand. “Wonderful! Who doesn’t love Ruthie Gardner? I keep bugging her to share her pie crust recipe with me. It’s divine. But she guards it like a mama bear.”
I laughed and shook her hand. “I’ll give you a hint—the secret ingredient is vodka.”
“Is it really?” April squealed. “Good Lord, I love her. Such a spitfire. And she’s gotta be what, ninety?”
“Ninety-three next month,” I confirmed.
April shook her head. “Unbelievable. I hope I’m in that kind of condition at her age, and loving my life as much.”
“Same.”
“April is the event planner here,” Ryan said. “We work together a lot.”
“Which is a nice way of saying I’m always asking him to move furniture around.” April laughed as she pulled two menus from the hostess stand.
“My sister is an event planner,” I told her. “She does tons of weddings, so I know how much work they are.”
April smiled. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you. Right this way, I have a great table for you. It’s surprisingly busy in here tonight, so I’m glad you called, Ryan.” Over her shoulder, she stage-whispered to me, “We don’t normally take reservations, but this guy is special.”
I smiled. “I agree.”
The table was near the fireplace, which crackled invitingly and made the large room feel warm and cozy. Or maybe it was the bottle of wine we polished off. Or the attraction simmering between us.
As our meal progressed, from Caesar salad prepared tableside to a wood-fired pizza to beef medallions served with ginger-glazed carrots—all of which we shared since the menu looked so good we couldn’t choose—it was clear that I hadn’t imagined the easy connection I’d felt at his house last night. He wasn’t talkative by any means, and he tended to answer questions about himself with as few words as possible, but he was an attentive listener, asked more about my family and hobbies, and teased me occasionally about my sheltered upbringing.
He found it funny that I’d never had a broken bone (“What can I say? I was careful!”), kept my own swear jar as a kid (“Most words were a quarter, but I once whispered the F word after I stubbed a toe and made myself put in a dollar.”), and thought oral sex meant talking dirty (“In my books, they never specified what it was! I just knew something steamy was happening!”).
He’d had to wipe tears after that one. “Oh God, that’s perfect.”
“That’s nothing,” I said, tipsy from the wine and loving his laughter. I lowered my voice. “I also thought penises were erect all the time.”
He nearly choked on the bite he’d just put in his mouth. “What?”
“Again, I feel books may have led me astray here. The men were always hard in those scenes. And then later, any time I saw or felt one …”
“Oh my God.” He reached for his water and took several long swallows. “I can’t imagine what a rude awakening that must have been.”
I cringed. “Yeah. It was bad.”
“Now you have to tell me.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“Tell me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. “So I was making out with this guy my freshman year of college, and he sort of shoved my hand down his pants, but it was all … flaccid,” I whispered, flopping my hand at the wrist. “Like a wet noodle. I asked him what was wrong with it.”
Ryan burst out laughing. “You scarred that guy for life. But he deserved it.”
“He did.” I set my fork down and picked up my water. “Now your turn. Any embarrassing sexual experiences?”
“Yeah. Last night with you, I was too fast.”
“Stop. You were not.”
“I was.” He finished off the last of his wine. “But maybe you’ll let me make it up to you tonight.”
My core muscles clenched. “Maybe.”
We decided against having dessert.
After Ryan paid the bill—we discovered our bottle of wine had been comped—and left a generous tip, we were on our way out when April came hurrying up, a worried look on her face. “Hey, I hate to do this to you, but there’s a couple with a flat tire in the driveway. They might have driven over a nail or something. The guy was trying to change it, but he’s drunk and kinda clueless. It’s the Foxes, do you know them? They’re regulars.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Say no more. I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. “I know you’re on a date. I hope I’m not ruining it.”
“It’s not a date,” I assured her, giving Ryan a private smile. “You’re fine.”
“What?” I asked.
“That was sexy as fuck, the way you just did that.”
I smiled, feeling sexy as fuck, for once. “Thanks.”
Five minutes later, we were cruising down the street, my arms wrapped around him, the wind in my face. I can’t say I wasn’t a little apprehensive at being so unprotected on the road, but there was very little traffic, and soon I began to relax. He felt solid and strong inside my embrace, and I pressed close to him. I trusted he would keep me safe.
When we reached the inn, he pulled past the main house and restaurant and drove around the back of one of the outbuildings, a big red barn with a sign over double doors that said CELEBRATION.
He parked on a large brick-paved patio beneath a wooden pergola twined with ivy, and held the bike steady so I could get off. It was dark at this time of night, but I could tell how beautiful the spot would be for an intimate wedding dinner or ceremony, with a view of the vineyard and rolling hills beyond. The back side of the barn had been fitted with huge, multi-paned windows facing west, perfect for viewing the sunset.
“This is so pretty,” I said, removing the helmet. “Is this for weddings?”
“Mostly.”
“Emme should see this. She’s a wedding planner, although most of her events are in or around Detroit.”
“Want to look inside?”
“Sure.”
He had a key that unlocked the double mullion doors between the windows. He opened one for me, and I stepped into a cavernous, shadowy space.
“Just a second, I’ll turn on some lights.” He disappeared, and a moment later, several strands of party lights illuminated one end of the barn, where there was a wooden bar near what might have been a band platform. A second after that, a huge chandelier hanging from a rafter at the center of the building lit up a rectangular dance floor. I could see round tables lining the sides of the space, and one long, rectangular table at the dim far end.
I gasped. “Oh, it’s so beautiful! I can’t imagine how pretty it looks all lit up, with flowers and candles and linens. Emme would be swooning.”
“It does look nice.”
“Do you work at weddings here?”
He shook his head. “Just set up and tear-down.”
“Still an important job. I know how hard my sister works behind the scenes to make sure everything looks effortless.”
He nodded and took my hand. “Stay with me. I need to turn the lights off and I don’t want you to trip. We’ll go out the front doors.”
He’s holding my hand! He’s holding my hand!
A few minutes later, we were strolling down the short paved road to the inn, my hand still inside his. He’d let go of it in order to open the door and re-lock it behind us, but I was glad when he reached for me again.
At the inn’s restaurant, which was on the main floor off the lobby, we were greeted by a woman who smiled warmly at both of us. “Hey, Ryan.”
“Hey, April. Got you working in here tonight, huh?”
“That’s what happens when you’re the boss’s daughter.” She rolled her eyes, but she laughed. “You’d think we’d get special treatment, but nope—we’re always on call to fill in.”
Ryan put a hand on my back. “This is Stella. She’s Ruth Gardner’s granddaughter, visiting from Detroit.”
April smiled and held out her hand. “Wonderful! Who doesn’t love Ruthie Gardner? I keep bugging her to share her pie crust recipe with me. It’s divine. But she guards it like a mama bear.”
I laughed and shook her hand. “I’ll give you a hint—the secret ingredient is vodka.”
“Is it really?” April squealed. “Good Lord, I love her. Such a spitfire. And she’s gotta be what, ninety?”
“Ninety-three next month,” I confirmed.
April shook her head. “Unbelievable. I hope I’m in that kind of condition at her age, and loving my life as much.”
“Same.”
“April is the event planner here,” Ryan said. “We work together a lot.”
“Which is a nice way of saying I’m always asking him to move furniture around.” April laughed as she pulled two menus from the hostess stand.
“My sister is an event planner,” I told her. “She does tons of weddings, so I know how much work they are.”
April smiled. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you. Right this way, I have a great table for you. It’s surprisingly busy in here tonight, so I’m glad you called, Ryan.” Over her shoulder, she stage-whispered to me, “We don’t normally take reservations, but this guy is special.”
I smiled. “I agree.”
The table was near the fireplace, which crackled invitingly and made the large room feel warm and cozy. Or maybe it was the bottle of wine we polished off. Or the attraction simmering between us.
As our meal progressed, from Caesar salad prepared tableside to a wood-fired pizza to beef medallions served with ginger-glazed carrots—all of which we shared since the menu looked so good we couldn’t choose—it was clear that I hadn’t imagined the easy connection I’d felt at his house last night. He wasn’t talkative by any means, and he tended to answer questions about himself with as few words as possible, but he was an attentive listener, asked more about my family and hobbies, and teased me occasionally about my sheltered upbringing.
He found it funny that I’d never had a broken bone (“What can I say? I was careful!”), kept my own swear jar as a kid (“Most words were a quarter, but I once whispered the F word after I stubbed a toe and made myself put in a dollar.”), and thought oral sex meant talking dirty (“In my books, they never specified what it was! I just knew something steamy was happening!”).
He’d had to wipe tears after that one. “Oh God, that’s perfect.”
“That’s nothing,” I said, tipsy from the wine and loving his laughter. I lowered my voice. “I also thought penises were erect all the time.”
He nearly choked on the bite he’d just put in his mouth. “What?”
“Again, I feel books may have led me astray here. The men were always hard in those scenes. And then later, any time I saw or felt one …”
“Oh my God.” He reached for his water and took several long swallows. “I can’t imagine what a rude awakening that must have been.”
I cringed. “Yeah. It was bad.”
“Now you have to tell me.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“Tell me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. “So I was making out with this guy my freshman year of college, and he sort of shoved my hand down his pants, but it was all … flaccid,” I whispered, flopping my hand at the wrist. “Like a wet noodle. I asked him what was wrong with it.”
Ryan burst out laughing. “You scarred that guy for life. But he deserved it.”
“He did.” I set my fork down and picked up my water. “Now your turn. Any embarrassing sexual experiences?”
“Yeah. Last night with you, I was too fast.”
“Stop. You were not.”
“I was.” He finished off the last of his wine. “But maybe you’ll let me make it up to you tonight.”
My core muscles clenched. “Maybe.”
We decided against having dessert.
After Ryan paid the bill—we discovered our bottle of wine had been comped—and left a generous tip, we were on our way out when April came hurrying up, a worried look on her face. “Hey, I hate to do this to you, but there’s a couple with a flat tire in the driveway. They might have driven over a nail or something. The guy was trying to change it, but he’s drunk and kinda clueless. It’s the Foxes, do you know them? They’re regulars.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Say no more. I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. “I know you’re on a date. I hope I’m not ruining it.”
“It’s not a date,” I assured her, giving Ryan a private smile. “You’re fine.”
