It could mean that she was freaking out. Lindsay had taken her by surprise. With her appearance. With the kiss. That much was obvious to anybody who had two eyes and half a brain. But—and this was important, as far as Lindsay was concerned—also obvious to anybody with two eyes and half a brain was how open Piper was to that kiss. Lindsay had pretty much ambushed her. It was risky, but turnabout is fair play. Piper might have pushed her away. Piper might have punched her in the throat. Lindsay had prepared herself for those possibilities, and Piper had done neither. Piper had kissed her back. In a big way. After the kiss in Lindsay’s office, after the way Piper seemed to be a little discombobulated by it, Lindsay was taking a risk Thursday morning, and she knew it. But she had honestly never felt such immediate chemistry with somebody before. Was it because of the friction between them? Or was the friction because of the chemistry?
Lindsay shook her head as she arranged the baguette on the tray. She wasn’t sure. All she did know was that kissing Piper Bradshaw was something else. Something unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Yeah, she wanted more of that.
This train of thought taking her nowhere but careening toward I’ll need to excuse myself to the bathroom land, Lindsay did her best to shake her mind free of all things Piper. At least for now. Cheese board in hand, she headed back out to the bar and delivered it to Zack.
Angela’s wine glass was nearly empty and Lindsay raised her eyebrows. Angela waved her off. “No, but thank you. I’ve got to scoot.” Still, she sat, her foot moving to the beat Patrice Dymond’s keyboardist had set. When the number was over, she applauded with the rest of the crowd, then turned to look Lindsay in the eye. “So? What are you going to do?”
Lindsay had filled Angela in on everything, every last bit of what had transpired between her and Piper. She’d listened quietly while Lindsay spoke, concluding with the ridiculously low re-estimate for the patio update. When she finished, Angela had only one comment. “That girl is so into you, it’s making her a little crazy.”
Now Lindsay shook her head as she came around the bar. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Angela slid off her stool, gathered her purse. “Keep me posted. This is like a soap opera, and I need to know where it goes.”
Lindsay pushed at her playfully before wrapping her in a hug. “Thanks for coming. Thanks for everything.”
“I’m serious,” Angela said in her ear. “You keep me in the loop. And call me any time you need to. I’m here even when I’m not.”
Lindsay tightened her hold before letting Angela go, then followed her with her gaze as she turned at the door and gave Lindsay a little wave.
The truth was, she had no idea what she was going to do, and that made her a little nuts.
Chapter Fourteen
“Why don’t you just ask her on a date?” Matthew was completely serious as he swigged his beer from his comfy spot on his chocolate brown leather couch. He plopped his feet up on the coffee table and crossed them at the ankle.
Piper slapped at his loafers as she went by. “What, were you brought up in a barn?”
“You sound like my grandma when you say that.”
“Hey, I bought you that table and it wasn’t cheap, thank you very much.”
Matthew removed his feet and looked like it was a struggle for him not to roll his eyes. “Man, you’re cranky.”
Piper dropped into the chair across from him and swigged her own beer. “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m telling you, ask her out. You obviously want to.”
Piper wanted to argue. She wanted to snap at Matthew, tell him to shut the hell up because he didn’t know what he was talking about. Instead, she gazed out the sliding glass door where Shane stood at the grill.
He turned to her and grinned through the screen, gave a small shrug. “He’s right, you know.”
“I hate both of you right now.”
It was Sunday afternoon and the sky was filled with clouds that looked like they were made of steel wool. Rain had come and gone and come back, and Shane had an umbrella within reach, just in case. Piper loved having dinner with these two. Their home was gorgeous, but not ostentatious. The decorating was flawless, of course, the muted, earthy colors blending seamlessly from dining room to living room, set off by gleaming dark oak hardwoods. (Why did gay men seem to automatically get that amazing interior decorating gene? So unfair.) She always felt welcome here. She felt safe with them, insulated from her everyday life.
Except for now. Now she felt cornered.
“Seriously, Pipes, what’s the worst that could happen?” Matthew sat forward on the couch so his backside was perched on the edge, and he propped his elbows on his knees. “You’ve both already attacked each other, for God’s sake. Going on an actual date seems like the next logical step. You could actually get to know each other. I know, crazy, right? I mean, what have you got to lose?”
Shane saved her from answering by moving to the screen door, his hands filled with two plates of food—one with burgers and one with grilled veggies. “Help?” he said through the screen.
Once they settled around the table, passed around dishes and filled their plates, and started eating, Matthew circled back around. This time, though, he was gentler. “Lately, you’ve seemed…unsettled. Like you need to move forward, but aren’t sure where to step. You know?”
Piper nodded because he was right. That was exactly how she’d been feeling.
“It’s very rare.” He gave her a pointed look.
Piper furrowed her brow. “What’s rare?”
Matthew looked to Shane, seemingly for help, but Shane only shrugged and said, “I’m right there with you, but this is all you, babe.”
Matthew set down his fork, folded his hands together, and set them on the table.
“Uh-oh,” Piper said with a nervous chuckle. “We’re getting serious here with the folded hands.”
“When friends ask me to describe you, I tell them you’re steady.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Shut up and let me finish. Steady, intelligent, levelheaded, even-keeled, people feel safe with you, like they don’t have to worry because you’ve got it all under control.”
Piper shot him a smile. “Better.”
Matthew held up a finger that said not so fast. “Lately, though, you’ve been different.”
“Different how?” She looked at Shane, who took an enormous bite of his burger and made no comment.
“You’ve seemed…frazzled. Emotional. Quick to anger. A little snappy.”
“A little snappy?”
“Not in a good way.”
Piper grimaced. She wanted to leap to her own defense. But she couldn’t. Because again, he was right. Instead, she blew out a breath and sat back against her chair like she’d been deflated. “I know. You’re right. You’re totally right. It’s because of my mom leaving and work being crazy and…”
“And because you’re super attracted to somebody you didn’t expect to be attracted to, and you don’t know what to do with that.”
The table fell silent, save for the sound of utensils on plates and people chewing. Matthew held Piper’s gaze like his was a tractor beam, wouldn’t let it go, daring her to argue with him.
Long moments went by before Piper gave up. Pulling herself from the strength of Matthew’s gaze, she turned to look out the window. “I don’t know what to do with that,” she agreed, very softly.
Matthew leaned forward, his face open and loving. “Ask her out. Go to a movie. Take her to dinner. Make a move, my friend. You’ve got ’em.”
“You think?”
“Hell, yes.” Matthew stabbed a mushroom with his fork.
“I don’t know. She makes me kind of crazy.”
Shane scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what our brains make us do. She drives me a little nuts, so now I like her. Congratulations, you’re a perfectly normal human being.”
Piper closed her eyes and shook her head. Was it really that
simple? Could it be? She makes me crazy, so now I want to sleep with her all the time? Seemed awfully basic and not a little bit silly. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, answer me this.” Matthew had picked up his fork and was eating again. His voice almost too nonchalant, he said, “Why did you revamp the numbers for the patio cost?” He stabbed a piece of grilled zucchini, popped it into his mouth, and raised his eyebrows expectantly as he chewed.
Piper poked at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “I wanted to show who was in charge,” she ground out.
“Mm-hmm. Why?”
“Because I didn’t want her to think she’d get special treatment.”
“Mm-hmm. Why would she get special treatment?”
Piper groaned.
“Just say it.” Matthew cocked his head as Shane looked back and forth between them like a spectator at a Ping-Pong match.
“Because I’m attracted to her.”
Matthew sat back in his chair, looking far too self-satisfied. “Finally. Was that so hard?”
“I want to slap you right now.”
“I know.” Matthew drained his beer. “But only because I’ve been right all along. Now, do us all a favor and take the poor girl out on a proper date. Please, so we can stop watching this train wreck you’re creating.” He got up to retrieve another beer, but called from the kitchen, “And let her do what she wants with the damn patio.”
Piper snorted a laugh. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”
Shane coughed, camouflaging the words “control freak” within it.
Piper pointed at him. “Exactly. At least I can admit it.”
Matthew returned to the dining room with three fresh beers, kissed Piper on the top of her head, and handed the bottles around. “It’s a good thing we love you, you emotionally stunted specimen of a woman.”
“Where will you take her?” Shane asked.
“Ooh, good question,” Matthew commented. “Let’s think about that.”
Piper held up a hand. “No way. No. We’re not doing that.”
“Aww.” Matthew pouted.
“Oh, my God,” Piper said as she pointed at him. “That’s exactly the face you made when we were kids whenever you didn’t get your way.”
After that, the conversation lightened up in a big way, but Lindsay still seemed to be hanging out in the back of Piper’s mind. Taking up space, smiling at her, keeping Piper feeling off balance somehow. It had been so long since she’d been so affected by a woman. Since Kat. And even then, it hadn’t been like this. It had been logical to ask Kat out. Practical. There was nothing logical about this. Practicality had no place. Kat and Piper had been so much alike. Friends joked that they were almost the same person. But Lindsay? No. Lindsay was so different from Piper. Well, what she knew of her.
Maybe Matthew was right.
Not that she’d ever tell him that.
Maybe it was time to take the bull by the horns here and really get to know her.
* * *
Vineyard wasn’t busy. Piper counted six customers when she walked in just before nine that Sunday night. A table of two, a table of three, and a single gentleman sitting at the bar. Lindsay was waiting on him—it looked like she was the only staff member working—and though her expression was pleasant enough, Piper got the distinct feeling she was not happy with this man.
And when Lindsay glanced up at her…Piper felt suddenly warm, deep down inside. Lindsay’s face shifted. Not a lot, but enough for Piper to see it. Her expression relaxed and a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and it was obvious, at least to Piper, that Lindsay was glad to see her. She waved her toward the bar. Piper obeyed.
“I’d like to try the petite Syrah,” the man was saying as Piper took one of the empty stools. He slid his glass toward Lindsay.
“Of course,” she said and turned to pull the bottle from the rack on the wall.
Piper took the time to study Lindsay from the back. She wore those same light-colored jeans with the small fray at the corner of one back pocket and Piper had the inexplicable urge to grasp the threads there and tug on them, see what would be revealed. Her top was black, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and when she turned back around, Piper saw the buttons at the top were open to reveal an enticing collarbone and skin that begged for fingertips.
Piper shook her head. Literally.
The man sipped from what Piper now saw was just a sample taste, and she realized that Lindsay’d had to open a new bottle just so he could taste a wine that he—judging from the grimace he made—didn’t care for. He glanced back down at the menu in front of him. “Let me try the Beaujolais.” He finished all the Syrah first, which Piper raised an eyebrow at.
Lindsay glanced at her and gave a quick eye roll that the man didn’t see but Piper did. Piper bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing.
Two more samples were downed (completely) by the man before he settled on a Chianti. He paid, took his glass, and moved to a table where he sat and pulled out a paperback.
Piper finally had all of Lindsay’s attention. She looked at her and grinned, then felt silly and schoolgirlish.
“Hi, you,” Lindsay said. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
“I had dinner over at Matthew and Shane’s and had to drive by on my way home, so…” Piper let the sentence dangle, not wanting to offer up any more information at the risk of giving herself away. Lowering her voice to barely a whisper, she added, “Wow, you were so patient with that guy.”
“That’s Mr. Can I Taste That.”
“Fitting name.”
“Bridget named him that. Right after she told me she refused to wait on him anymore.”
Piper chuckled. “I’m with Bridget.”
“I don’t blame her. Or you. He’s a pain, but I suspect he also has lots of money and possibly some influence. So I’m always careful to take good care of him, no matter how ridiculous he gets. I don’t ever want him to be able to trash Vineyard, you know?”
Piper nodded, suddenly realizing something about the way she viewed Lindsay. It was almost as if Lindsay was walking around with a life-size cardboard cutout in front of her that depicted what Piper initially thought of her. Hippy-like. Irresponsible. Flighty. And each time Lindsay squashed one of those descriptors, a piece of the cutout fell away. Pretty soon, it would all be gone and what would be left standing in front of her would be the real Lindsay.
Piper was stunned to understand that she looked forward to that day.
“Oh!” Lindsay held up a finger. “I want you to try something.”
“Okay…” Piper drew out the word, a smile in her voice. “Should I be worried?”
Lindsay arched an eyebrow at her. “Maybe,” she said in a teasing tone as she turned back to the bottles. Piper watched her hands as she took two glasses down, pulled two bottles of white wine from the small wine cooler, and poured a couple swallows into each glass. Then she turned to face Piper, a glass in each hand. She set one down. “Angelina Jolie.” She set down the other one. “Jennifer Aniston.”
Piper cocked her head in curiosity.
Lindsay glanced over Piper’s shoulder. “Taste them and think about it. I’ll be right back.”
Piper watched her go, then turned back to the wines. Angelina was on the left. Jennifer on the right. “Hmm.” She picked up Angelina. Sipped. It had an immediate sharpness to it on the front, a bite of sorts. Notes of pine, citrus, a little floral. Then it smoothed out with a long finish that lasted. She sat with that for a moment before picking up the other glass and giving Jennifer a try. No bite, just a mellowness that coated her mouth. Notes of pear and vanilla were prominent, a completely different flavor combination from Angelina, but that lingered on the finish in a similar way.
Lindsay returned behind the bar only long enough to grab her little tablet, which told Piper the party was checking out. Lindsay gave her a wink, but said nothing, and Piper’s insides went all mushy anyway.
I’ve become officiall
y ridiculous.
She sipped each wine again, paid even closer attention to the flavors, and then the lightbulb went off. By the time Lindsay held the door for the departing customers and returned to the bar, Piper was grinning from ear to ear.
Lindsay returned the grin, tenfold, as she gestured to the now empty glasses. “Tell me.”
Piper made a show of clearing her throat and sitting up straight on her stool. Indicating the glass on her left, she said, “This wine, while clean and crisp, starts off very strong, like a bit of a slap to your taste buds. It gets itself noticed. Once you’re on board, it evens out and takes you on a lengthy ride, with you for a long time. Angelina Jolie.” She gestured to the other wine. “This wine is subtler in its approach, it gently taps your shoulder to let you know it’s there and when you actually focus on it, you’re captured by its beauty. It stays gentle, but noticeable, and it sticks around. It has staying power. Jennifer Aniston.” Piper inclined her head in a small bow. “Ta-da!”
“Yes!” Lindsay clapped her hands together once and beamed with happiness. “You nailed it exactly.”
“So, tell me what it is.”
“It’s an additional way we want to describe the wines. We’ll keep all the regular descriptors on there, but Bridget is great at this, so I’m going to have her assign celebrities to each wine to give customers a fun way to understand what they’re getting.”
“Thereby staying traditional and being more modern. At the same time.”
“Exactly.” Lindsay pointed at her. “I knew you’d get it.”
And then they had what Piper could only describe as “a moment.” Their gazes held. Lindsay’s green eyes sparked with excitement, with a love for her job, but also with something else. There was a connection here, between them. A connection Piper suspected neither of them saw coming. She certainly didn’t. But it was there. In that second, there was no place else in the world Piper would’ve rather been. She just wanted to sit there and stare into those eyes and feel no pressure, no worry, just…comfort. Just contentedness. Just desire.
“Have dinner with me.” The words pushed from her lips without her permission, as if her heart had overridden the rest of her.
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