Chapter Eleven

It might have been purely by chance that Will was assigned to work with Rose to select the wines for the reception. It might have been, but it wasn’t. Will had asked Ryan to put him on the job so he could spend more time with Rose.

Rose thought they were being set up by their well-meaning friends; she said as much when she let Will in the door of De-Vine after closing one night.

“Do you know anything about wine, Will?” she asked him, her arms crossed, leaning her hip against the doorframe after she unlocked the shop for him.

“Uh, no. Not particularly. Why?”

“Because Jackson does. Why wasn’t he given this job?”

“Well, I … Maybe because he’s coordinating the food?”

“Maybe.” She raised one eyebrow at him. “And maybe it’s because you and I are being set up.”

He cleared his throat. “Set up?”

“Yeah.” She backed out of the doorway so he could enter. “Gen thinks we should be dating.”

“Ah.” He moved into the empty shop carrying two manila folders in his hands. He took a seat at the bar and put the folders on the polished dark wood. “The guys might have said something about that, too. They think we’d be good together.”

She locked the door behind him and went behind the bar. “We probably would, if I were still dating, which I’m not, and probably never will again.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Why?” She pulled a wineglass from under the bar, poured some chardonnay, and passed it to Will.

He shrugged. “Because you’re a really good person. And if you don’t want to date now—which, believe me, I get that—you still should be open to it someday. You’ve got too much to offer not to … you know. Offer it. To somebody.” He rearranged his glasses, which he knew would make him look nervous, but he couldn’t help that. He was nervous.

She looked at him in a way that made him feel warm all over.

“That’s sweet.” She nodded toward the folders. “What did you bring?”

He held up one folder for her to see. “Menu for the reception, including appetizers, and including all of the ingredients for each dish.”

“Great. And the other one?”

“That’s … ah.” He paused and took a sip of the wine she’d given him. It was good—very good. “It’s some information I compiled on scholarship opportunities in viticulture. And some others for returning college students.” He pushed the folder toward her.

Wordlessly, she picked up the folder and opened it. She leafed through the pages Will had printed from his computer, and then she looked at him with wide eyes.

“You researched scholarships.”

“Well … yeah. I had some time, and I thought—”

She leaned over the bar, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.

The kiss was different than the ones they’d shared before. The first had been intended to display her passion for him in front of Melanie, and, accordingly, it had been lusty and decidedly PG-13. The second one, the one outside her cottage, had been more tentative, but still infused with a heat that had seared him to his very core. This one, though, had something else behind it, something more genuine and pure. This was a kiss of sweetness and affection, a kiss that acknowledged that he saw her, and she knew it, and she was grateful.

Still, regardless of the nature of the kiss, he felt as though his body were alight with heightened sensation, as though the touch of her mouth on his was bringing his every nerve to glorious life.

“Will. Thank you,” she said as she pulled away from him.

“Anytime.” He straightened up on his bar stool. “And I mean that. Anytime.”

She grinned at him, and he knew he had to change her mind about this reckless determination to give up on men. He needed to be with her, and even if that were not in the cards, even if she remained set on her decision to shut him out, this woman needed to be with someone. She was simply too lovely, too interesting, too everything not to share her glory with a man.

But he really wanted to be that man.

“Look,” he began, trying to regain his composure. “There are some good opportunities in there. Lots of stuff available to older students. Not that you’re older, just ... older than eighteen. And there are fewer things available in viticulture specifically, but there are some. I know you’ll have to supplement with loans, probably, but this will give you a start.”

She nodded. “Okay. This is ... thank you.”

“And if you need any help with your applications, I’ve done about a thousand of them myself over the years. I can help. I’d really like to help.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. She tucked the folder under the bar and propped her elbows on the bar top, leaning toward him. “Now, what’s say we look at that menu?”

 

She knew she shouldn’t have kissed him again. She knew it would give him the wrong idea, because she really wasn’t interested in a relationship, and she didn’t intend to let one fabulous kiss—or three—derail her from her chosen course. But she’d been so surprised, so touched, when he’d shown her the information on the scholarships. He’d put thought into this—real thought. He’d actually gone home and pondered how he could help her make her dream happen.

And how sweet was that?

Even though she wasn’t going to date him, she had to admit that he was increasingly becoming a friend—someone she could talk to, someone whose company she enjoyed. Someone who would support her in the things she wanted to do. And if kissing him made her feel as though her insides had turned hot and liquid, well, that was something she’d just have to live with.

 

“You two certainly do kiss a lot for people who aren’t dating,” Kate told Rose over coffee the next day at Jitters.

“How do you know about the kiss? The last one, I mean.”

“Will told Jackson, and Jackson told me.” Kate peered at Rose innocently over the rim of her cup.

“Well, why is Will talking to Jackson about kissing me?” Rose demanded.

“You talk to me about kissing him,” Kate pointed out.

“True.”

“Maybe he needed advice.”

“Men don’t ask other men for relationship advice.” Rose scowled. “Do they?”

“I don’t know.” Kate shrugged. “Probably. But I imagine it goes something like this: ‘What the hell was she upset about this time? What did I do?’ ‘How should I know? Women are crazy.’ ” She’d made her voice low, first in an uncanny imitation of Jackson, and then Ryan. She’d also put a wide-eyed look on her face that could only be described as “clueless male.” Rose laughed.

“Anyway,” Kate said, “Will tells Jackson, Jackson tells me, you tell me, I tell Jackson”—she waved a hand around airily—“It’s what people do. No harm, no foul. Let’s get back to the point.”

“Which is?”

“You and Will kissing,” Lacy called from behind the counter, where she was steaming milk for a cappuccino. “I’m all the way over here, and even I know. Keep up.”

Rose sighed. “It was nothing. It was an appreciation kiss. It was ... ” She grasped for a word. “Polite! I was being polite.”

“Oh, honey,” Kate said. “When my high school counselor gave me a list of available scholarships, I said thank you. I didn’t give him tongue.” She shuddered slightly. “He was eighty-three.”

“Now there’s an image,” Rose said.

It was midmorning, and both De-Vine and Swept Away, the bookstore Kate owned, were scheduled to open in an hour. The coffee place was half full, with people chatting, working on laptops, and enjoying lattes and baked goods. The shop smelled like fresh ground French roast and mildew from the damp ocean air.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Gen rushed in the front door, looking harried. The slim black dress she wore for a day of work at the gallery was pristine as ever, but her hair was askew and she hadn’t applied her lipstick yet. “I’m here! I’m here! Don’t talk about the kissing without me!”

Rose turned to Kate. “Gen knows, too?”

Kate shrugged. “Ryan must have told her.”

“I can fill you in,” Lacy said from behind the counter as Gen scurried in and took a seat at the small café table. “Rose says she was just being polite.”

Gen raised her eyebrows. “What, like ‘How was your day?’ and ‘Nice weather we’re having’?”

“No,” Rose said. “More like, ‘Thank you for being a very sweet and thoughtful person.’ I thought the moment called for something.”

“It called for you to buy him a cup of coffee or maybe send a nice card.” Lacy brought Gen’s coffee—black—and set it on the table in front of her. “It didn’t call for an exchange of body fluids.”

“Why are you guys harassing me?” Rose demanded. “I came here for coffee, and, you know ... companionship. And girl talk. I didn’t come here to be harassed.”

“This is girl talk,” Kate said, stirring her cappuccino with a long wooden stir stick. She licked the foam off the stick thoughtfully. “Girls, talking about kissing. What could be more companionable than that?”

Gen shifted in her seat to turn toward Rose. “Even though I missed the first part, I have to jump in here and say that if we’re harassing you, it’s because you’re being stupid. I’m sorry, sweetie. I love you. But you are.”

“Stupid? How am I stupid?” Rose demanded.

“Because you’re sticking with this whole ‘I’m done with men’ thing when you should just drop the act and date Will. Then you can kiss him whenever you want to without having to make excuses about it,” Lacy said as she bagged up a muffin for a middle-aged man in a Cambria shirt and madras shorts.

“She’s right,” Kate said.

“Yeah. She is,” Gen added.

“It’s not an act. And I don’t want to date Will.”

“Well, he wants to date you,” Kate added. “And not these ridiculous fake dates, either. He wants to date you legitimately, with actual feelings and kisses that you both can acknowledge are real kisses.”

“He does?” Rose looked at Kate, stunned.

“Of course he does.” Kate scoffed at her.

“He ... I ...” Rose shook her head. “He does not. What even makes you think that?”

“What, are you new to this conversation?” Kate demanded irritably. “Will told Jackson, and Jackson told me. Jeez. We’ve been over this.”

“Wait, he ... did he ... are you sure?” Rose found that processing this new information was surprisingly difficult. She knew that he liked her, of course. And she knew that she liked him. But when they’d gone out to Neptune, he’d made it clear that they were pretending for the sake of Chris and Melinda. Hadn’t he?

Rose wasn’t sure what it all meant. She’d found Will to be safe and uncomplicated, but if he was genuinely interested in her for something more than friendship and the occasional we’re just pals kiss, then that meant he wasn’t safe or uncomplicated at all. Now, he represented potential heartbreak. She tried to tell herself that didn’t matter, but it did. There was a reason she’d instituted her no-men policy.

She shook her head to clear it. “Well, I’m going to have to nix that. That’s just ... no.” She almost felt as if she meant it.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Kate said. “He’s nice. And he’s smart. And he’s cute as hell. He’s way better than Jeremy was.”

“I know he is!” Rose said.

“Then what’s the issue?” Gen wanted to know.

“He’s better than Jeremy!” Rose wailed. “He’s so much better than Jeremy! And if Jeremy ripped my heart out and stomped on it—which he did—how much worse do you think it’s going to be if Will does that? Because Jeremy was nothing! He was nobody! And Will ...”

“He’s somebody,” Gen said, a sigh in her voice.

“Yeah. He’s somebody.”