Lindsay’s light eyebrows rose in surprise, though Piper noticed, not shock. Just gentle surprise. She gave one nod. “I’d like that. A lot.”
“Good.”
Their eyes were still locked as Lindsay hunkered down, put her elbows on the bar and propped her chin in her hands. “When? Where? What time?”
“So many questions,” Piper teased. She didn’t actually have answers, as she hadn’t exactly planned it up front, despite what Matthew and Shane had told her. “How about Tuesday? Have somebody close for you. I’ll pick you up at seven. Should I get you from here?”
“I think that sounds perfect.” Lindsay didn’t move. Piper absently wondered how long they could sit there making eye contact with one another before one of them gave in. “Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise,” Piper told her, but didn’t add that it would be a surprise to her as well since she had no idea.
“I do like surprises.”
They were flirting now. Not that they hadn’t been, but Piper had never been good at picking up on such things. Therefore, she knew, if it was blatantly obvious to her, there was definite flirting going on. “I’ll make a note,” she said, and then something told her it was the perfect time to make her exit. She slid off the stool. “Thanks for the samples.”
“You can have a sample any time you want.”
Oh, yeah. Absolutely flirting.
“I’ll see you Tuesday.”
Lindsay gave her an adorable little wave, and Piper made her way to the door and out. Once she was at her car, she stood completely still for a second. Two seconds.
And then she broke into a quick little dance, shuffling her feet and fisting her hands.
She’d done it. She’d asked Lindsay out.
She had a date.
Matthew wasn’t going to believe it.
Chapter Fifteen
She’s nervous.
That thought came into Lindsay’s head the moment she settled into the passenger seat of Piper’s SUV and turned to look at her. Piper’s smile seemed a tad forced and her knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
“Oh, good,” Lindsay said, with a chuckle. “You’re nervous, too. That’ll make it easier.”
“You’re nervous?”
“God, yes.”
Piper gave a nod, seemed to file that away. “Well, still. It’s good to see you.” This smile was genuine, wider and open. “Hi.”
Lindsay felt her entire body relax. “Hi yourself.”
“Ready?” Piper shifted the car into gear and pulled out of the Vineyard parking lot.
“Where are you taking me?” Lindsay took in Piper’s outfit. She was very casual for Piper, sporting denim capris and an emerald green tank top that left an enticing expanse of skin bare.
“Someplace a little different.”
“Excellent. I’m in.”
Piper glanced at her with a grin, her sunglasses disguising her eyes, but making her look no less sexy. “Because you weren’t if I was taking you someplace not different?”
“You don’t know. I might have jumped out, right here, while we’re moving.”
“Yeah, don’t do that.”
Lindsay returned the grin, then looked out the window as they drove alongside Black Cherry Lake. Everything was in its full summer bloom. The trees were green and lush, the lake water blue and serene. It had been a gorgeously warm day full of sunshine and puffy clouds, and the evening was turning out to be perfect. Warm, but not too warm, the sun taking its sweet time moving toward the horizon. “I love it here,” she said on a little sigh.
“Me, too.” Piper turned onto an unmarked road that Lindsay wasn’t sure she’d ever noticed before, and it went from asphalt to dirt fairly quickly.
As the SUV bounced over a hole, Lindsay let out a nervous chuckle. “Are you taking me into the woods to kill me? Because the theme from Deliverance is running through my head right now.”
Piper glanced at her, her expression completely stone-like, and for a split second, Lindsay felt a small surge of worry. Then Piper’s face split into a grin. “Not today,” she said with a wink.
The road seemed to smooth out a bit, and in another minute or two, Piper pulled the SUV to a stop. There was a small cabin in front of them. No, cabin was actually too ornate a word. A shack was closer to accurate. Piper turned off the engine, opened her door, and slid to the ground.
Lindsay followed suit, slammed her door closed, and looked at the shack. The water wasn’t far—maybe twenty-five yards away. She turned to see Piper rifling through the back seat of the SUV and went to her. “Can I help?”
Piper gave her a cooler bag with a chilled bottle of Rosé in it, then handed her a folded blanket. She pulled out a large wicker basket, slammed the door shut, and turned to Lindsay. “Ready?”
Lindsay knew her smile was wide. “Did you put together a picnic for us?”
Piper gave a shrug of nonchalance. “I might have…” And then she was off on a small path that Lindsay hadn’t seen right away, heading toward the water. Lindsay skipped to catch up with her.
When they reached the water’s edge, Lindsay’s eyes widened in surprise. Not only was there a very nice dock that reached out many yards into the lake, but there was a large expanse of wooden deck attached to it on the shore, complete with tiki torches and four sturdy Adirondack chairs, each in a different primary color. The water lapped gently at the edges of the wood, the sound peaceful and inviting.
“What is this place?” Lindsay had the inexplicable urge to whisper, as if making any sound would break the spell that seemed to be cast.
Piper stepped up onto the deck. “My parents own this land. It’s my dad’s fishing spot. He came here all the time. That shack has all of his tackle and gear. It really needs to be cleaned out, but…” She gave a small frown. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to do that yet.”
“This is beautiful,” Lindsay said as she walked to the edge of the deck and looked into the crystal clear water, followed the tiny minnows as they flitted around just below the surface.
“Thanks.”
“You come here a lot?”
Piper spread the blanket out on the deck, set the basket on it. “I used to. I came here as a kid with my dad, but I never really caught the fishing bug. My sister Gina was more into that. But I started to come by myself in high school, once I had my driver’s license. I’d bring a book and just sit here and stare at the water.” She did that now, standing there looking beautiful, facing the water. Several sails dotted the water. A distant buzz could be heard and a small motorboat sped by in the center of the lake. “I stopped coming after my dad died.”
Lindsay stepped toward her and set the wine bottle down on the blanket. “And then started again?”
Piper looked at her then, and something unreadable passed over her eyes. “Yes. Today.”
Lindsay cocked her head and stared for a beat. “Today? You mean, you haven’t been here since your father died?” She said it quietly, gently, completely understanding the importance of what she’d just learned, and trying not to let her surprise show.
Piper shrugged and gave a nod. “Right.”
Lindsay watched as Piper busied herself with the picnic. She opened the basket and began removing small Tupperware containers. She handed two plastic wine glasses to Lindsay, and then a corkscrew, and Lindsay took her cue and opened the wine. They worked wordlessly, as if they’d been a team for years, and within about ten minutes, there was an amazing spread laid out on the blanket. Piper looked up at Lindsay with those unique hazel eyes, and this time, Lindsay could see everything. They were filled with hesitation and uncertainty and excitement and just a touch of sadness, and Lindsay was lost.
“Hungry?” Piper asked quietly.
All Lindsay could do was nod.
Piper waved a hand at the empty space next to her and Lindsay sat, handed one glass to Piper. She held up her own in a toast. “To your dad,” she said and knew by Piper’s soft smile th
at she’d chosen correctly. They touched glasses, sipped.
“Wow,” Lindsay said, looking at the food and hoping to break the spell of melancholy that had fallen over them. “This is amazing.” There was cheese, crackers, stuffed grape leaves, three different varieties of olives, sliced baguette, bruschetta. She dug in, popping an olive into her mouth while she decided what to eat first. “How are things at work?”
Piper gave another shrug—which Lindsay was beginning to understand was Piper’s nonchalant mannerism, for when she wanted to portray that a topic was no big deal—as she arranged four crackers on her paper plate, then put a square of cheese on each one. “Stressful. Worrisome. Frustrating.”
Lindsay chuckled. “Okay. Next subject.”
Piper laughed, popped a cracker into her mouth. “When was your last relationship?”
“Oh, perfect. A much more comfortable topic.” Lindsay gave a good-natured roll of her eyes, then looked toward the sky. “Let’s see…” It was a personal question and she could have joked it away, changed the subject. But there was something about Piper Bradshaw, something about the trust she’d shown in Lindsay simply by bringing her here, by sharing this place that obviously meant so much to her, and she just couldn’t lie. She couldn’t be anything but honest with Piper. “Three years ago? Three and a half, maybe?”
“What happened?” Piper was gazing out at the water, but she turned quickly to face Lindsay. “I mean, if it’s okay to ask.”
“It’s totally okay.” And she meant it. Lindsay had no idea when this shift had taken place, but somewhere over the last week, she’d gone from feeling uncertain and irritated around Piper to completely comfortable. And more than a little bit turned on, which seemed to now be a regular aspect of being around Piper. And today, given Piper’s arms and that tank top, arousal was in full force—even though she’d promised herself she’d let Piper make the next move. If there was to be one. “I guess it depends on who you ask, but I’ve had lots of time to think about it, to go over things in my head.”
“And the conclusion you’ve come to is?”
“I was emotionally unavailable, which is a phrase I hate and think is way overused, but in the case of me and Crystal, it fits.” Lindsay sipped her wine, recalling several of the loud arguments they’d had, she and Crystal. Well, loud on Crystal’s part. “When we fought, it was mostly Crystal yelling at me, listing all the things I was doing wrong or wasn’t doing at all and I would just sit there and take it. Pretend to listen. Nod and agree.”
“Well, that sounds like a perfectly lovely partnership.”
A laugh burst out of Lindsay. “Doesn’t it, though? For many months after we split, I blamed her for being too demanding, for being too critical. It took me a while to understand that I just wasn’t invested. In her. In our relationship. In life. All her yelling was simply born of frustration because she felt she wasn’t being heard, and she was right. I wasn’t listening. To anybody. I was really floundering.” She looked at Piper then, and went completely, utterly serious. “Your mom and dad saved me.”
Piper’s brow furrowed. “From what?”
“From myself.” Lindsay looked into her glass of Rosé and gathered her thoughts. “It sounds dramatic and I don’t mean it to be. I just…I was floundering. There’s no better way to describe it. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I was working three jobs, none of which I enjoyed even a little bit. I felt useless and small and unimportant and like I didn’t know who I was or who I wanted to be. And when Crystal left, it all was amplified.”
When she lifted her eyes to Piper’s face, she seemed riveted, every bit of her attention focused on Lindsay. It made Lindsay’s heart pound a little bit harder.
“I drank too much for a while. I got fired from one of my jobs. My best friends seemed to disappear, though I think they just got sick of my bullshit.” She chuckled, but there was an edge of self-deprecation to it, as there always was when she was dealing with this subject. “And one day, I wandered into Vineyard, hoping to find a bartending job. I didn’t realize it was a wine bar. I was looking for a regular bar, and my first thought was that I was totally out of place, that Vineyard was way too snooty and uppity for me. But your dad was there, doing a tasting with a distributor, and your mom was behind the bar and…” Lindsay shook her head as she recalled the moment. “There was something in your mom’s eyes, something about the way she looked at me. I have no idea how, but I knew in that second that everything was going to be okay, that these people were safe, that I was meant to walk through that door at that moment. I was certain of it. I still am.”
Piper inhaled slowly, let it out the same way before speaking. “Wow,” she finally said, her voice very quiet. “I had no idea. I mean, I knew my parents were fond of you, but I didn’t know any details.” She sipped her wine, seemed to sift through words in her head. “I guess I wasn’t around that much, though, if I’m being honest. Not after my dad died. So I wouldn’t have known anyway.”
“He was a really great guy. I liked him a lot.” Lindsay looked up at the sky. “I wish I’d had more time with him.”
“Me, too.”
“Is it weird for you to be here? I mean…” Lindsay let her voice trail off, worried she’d maybe stepped on Piper’s feelings, so when Piper turned to her with a small smile, she returned it.
“Not at all. Which kind of surprises me. It feels…right to be here.”
Lindsay’s smile was wide; she could feel it split across her face. “Good.” It was when she shifted her gaze back to the water that she realized yet another gorgeous aspect of this spot Piper had brought them. “Oh, my God, we’re going to see the sunset, aren’t we?”
Piper’s face was radiant just then. The deep dimples on either side of her face burst into view. “Did I forget to mention that?”
“You know, Piper,” Lindsay said, her voice suddenly low and husky, “this might be the most romantic dinner I’ve ever had. With anyone. Ever.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” Piper leaned toward her, pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss, tentative and soft. They parted slowly but stayed with their faces close together, and Lindsay gazed at Piper.
“God, I love your eyes.”
The corner of Piper’s mouth tugged up. “Thanks,” she whispered, then moved in for another kiss.
This one was also tentative and soft, just a gentle melding of lips. Piper slid her hand along the side of Lindsay’s face, tugged her head a bit closer, deepened the kiss just a tad. Lindsay wasn’t a woman who needed to be led in any aspect of making out, but she found herself perfectly content to let Piper choreograph this dance. Piper’s mouth was warm, and the taste of wine clung to her tongue. The softness of her lips astounded Lindsay, though she wasn’t sure why. She’d kissed her share of women. But something about Piper…was it her taste? Her method? The slow drawing out of this connection? Whatever it was, Lindsay was crazy about it. She could sit on that blanket near the water and make out with Piper until the end of time. She was positive.
Lindsay had no idea how long they’d been kissing before Piper pulled away and whispered, “We’re going to miss the sunset.”
Lindsay blinked several times and fought to reorient herself with reality. “Oh. Um, okay.”
Piper grinned and brushed some hair off Lindsay’s forehead. “You okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” Lindsay swallowed, forced her eyes to focus. “I just…” After a clearing of her throat, she looked at Piper and said quietly, “You’re a really, really good kisser.”
Piper’s face was tinted a soft orange by the setting sun, but Lindsay was almost certain she could see subtle bursts of pink forming on her cheeks. “You’re not so bad yourself.” And as if by unspoken agreement, they scooted a little closer together, moving some of the dishes out of the way. Piper refilled their glasses with the remaining wine, and they sat in silence, their bodies touching, content in each other’s company, and watched the beauty of
nature as she put on a show for them.
It felt perfectly right to sit there in the quiet with Piper, and Lindsay wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. It was natural for her to keep her guard up, at least a little bit, especially when the physical pull was so strong for her. She had a tendency to let that arousal blind her to other things. But this? This felt completely different, completely unfamiliar, completely perfect. She knew she could drive herself crazy if she sat here and analyzed it. Please, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing tomorrow. So instead, she forced herself to shelve her worries, to box up all her concerns and put them away, at least for now, at least for this moment. Her head against Piper’s shoulder, she watched the gorgeous ball of orange/red disappear behind the trees.
They stayed like that for a long while after the sun had gone down, propped together, listening to the cicadas and the occasional burp-like sound from a random frog.
“Look,” Lindsay said quietly, pointing. “Lightning bug.”
“We always called them fireflies.” Piper followed Lindsay’s finger, then pointed to another. “There’s one.”
“I remember when I was a kid, I thought they were the coolest thing. And I’d catch them and put them in a jar in my room so I could watch them as I fell asleep.” Lindsay sighed. “I could never understand why they were all dead in the morning.”
Piper’s chuckle made no sound, but Lindsay felt her shoulder move. “Aww, poor little Lindsay, unknowingly destroying the lightning bug population, three or four at a time.”
Lindsay pushed against her and let out a mock gasp. “Shut up.” But she was laughing.
Piper slapped at her own arm, the sound exorbitantly loud in the quiet of the woods. “And that’s my cue,” she said. At Lindsay’s raised eyebrows, she explained. “Mosquitoes. They love me. Apparently, I’m delicious.” She started packing up the picnic.
Lindsay followed suit. “The mosquitoes obviously have great taste.”
The smile Piper shot her then pretty much made her night.
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