by Ava Miles
Since she was being totally neurotic—and she knew it—Jane shook out the black velvet coat they’d selected for her to wear. Rearranged her silver cashmere scarf. Straightened her black velvet gloves.
“Jane. Your OCD is showing.”
“I know. I just want everything to be perfect.”
Her friend wrapped her arms around her and lifted her off the ground in a bone-cracking hug, making her laugh.
“Perfect is overrated. Have fun! That’s the key to a great date. Sit back. Enjoy flirting with him. Hell, enjoy being without the canine clan.”
Rufus whined at that comment. “I know, honey,” Jane said, walking over to him and rubbing his shiny coat. “She just doesn’t get it.”
“I do. I just think it will be nice for neither of you to have to worry about cleaning up doggie business during your time together.”
She shrugged. “You’re right. Poop isn’t romantic.”
The sound of Matt’s SUV crunching on the snow in her driveway had Rufus and Annie trotting over to the front door in anticipation. Jane was reaching for her coat when her friend stopped her with a hand.
“No, let him see you like this first. Then he can help you with your coat.”
“Okay,” she said when she heard a car door slam. “Thanks. Now hide.”
“The things you do for a sister,” Elizabeth said with a wink as she high-tailed it out of the room.
There was a cute rap on the door—who knew a sound like that could be cute?—so she smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, took a deep breath, and went to answer it.
Matt had on a red scarf and a long cashmere double-breasted coat in navy blue. It was the most formal attire she’d ever seen him wear, and she had to admit that she really liked it.
His mouth dropped open when he caught sight of her. “Wow! I mean…you look incredible.”
When he simply stood there, his eyes sweeping from her face all the way down to her shoes, she strove to remain calm.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t be heading to one of the finest restaurants in Denver tonight? Dare might not know what to do with you, Jane.”
Heat suffused her cheeks. “Oh, stop.”
He came inside and stomped his shoes on the rug and then followed her to the couch, where she’d laid out her coat. “Seriously, Jane. You look beautiful.”
And as she met his eyes, his gaze smoldering, she knew he meant it. She wanted to run and kiss her best friend on the cheek for helping, but of course she couldn’t. “You look handsome too.”
“Had to dig out some of the big city clothes for tonight,” he commented and reached for her coat and held it out for her.
She threaded her arms into the sleeves, and when his hands settled on her shoulders, she felt his face near her neck. “You smell good too,” he murmured, making her wonder if he was going to kiss her now, before they even left.
Annie barked once, and he stepped away. “Sorry, was I ignoring you? Hey, Annie.” He gave her a good scratch behind the ears and then did the same with Rufus when he padded over. “Ah, you guys spoil me. Makes me think someday Henry might be as nice as you.”
Elizabeth was right. It was going to be nice to be away from the dogs for a night. No interruptions.
“Did something new happen with him?” she asked as she adjusted her scarf and tugged on her gloves. Her head was going to freeze, but Elizabeth had argued adamantly against a hat.
“He peed on my bed, the stinker. Wasn’t happy when I got home and saw that.”
Uh-oh. That wasn’t good. “Anything unusual happen today?”
“Since I saw you yesterday at the park? No. He’s like a general. He always concocts a new strategy for breaking me.”
She smiled and held out her hands to him. “You won’t break.”
He hesitated and then took them. “You sound pretty sure about that.”
“I have a sixth sense about people. You’re not going to fold.” Grabbing her silver clutch, she walked to the door.
“Rhett’s poker talk must be rubbing off on you,” he commented as he came up behind her.
If only he knew. Poker had taught her a lot about people and a lot about life. She had a knack for seeing who would break and what it would take—at the table and in life. Matt might crack around the edges, but he wouldn’t break. He had too much internal strength and integrity for that.
God, she was really into him.
“Shall we?” she asked, giving Annie and Rufus a last rubdown before walking through the door. “Bye guys. You behave.”
After she locked the door, she cocked her head. “Ah, do you mind giving me your arm down the stairs? The heels…”
“Of course,” he replied and held it out.
As she edged closer to him, his body heat wrapped around her, and his scent—all spicy and fresh—had her awareness of him growing. He opened her door and saw her inside before heading around to the driver’s side. She’d known he was a gentleman to the core, but it was nice to be treated with such care. She settled back into the seat.
“How about a hot seat?” he asked.
It took her a second to figure out what he meant, and she finally laughed when she did. “Oh, a butt warmer. Sure.”
Within minutes, her seat was toasty. As Matt maneuvered the snowy roads on the bench to downtown Dare, he asked her about her day, which had mostly been filled with preparation for their date. Not that she told him that.
He cruised down Maple Street and found a space on Aspen, the cross street. “Let me come around,” he said when she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Don’t want you to slip.”
Music to her ears. It was lovely to stroll with her arm threaded through his down the short stretch to Brasserie Dare, which was one street over from Main Street. Downtown Dare was brightly lit with street lights from another era mixed in with modern lampposts designed to blend in. The brick storefronts always reminded her of the small town she was from, right outside of Greenwich. Oh, how she’d hated it.
Jane had arrived in Dare with a chip on her shoulder, certain that the townspeople were going to be as cliquey and nosy as they’d been in Greenwich. But everyone in Dare had been nothing but welcoming. Sure there was an old guard, and she was a newcomer, but that didn’t seem to matter. Yes, people asked about her business in a way they hadn’t in Vegas, but so far, a few pleasantries had managed to sidetrack even the most curious of interrogators.
Of course, no one really knew who she was or what she’d done with her life. She planned to keep it that way. Having strutted by a few locals in her six-inch hooker heels as Raven at The Grand Mountain Hotel when Rhett had played poker there, she’d seen the disapproval and flat-out judgment in their gazes.
No, Jane Wilcox blended in much better, and she planned on keeping her past and present distinctly separate.
The stores around Brasserie Dare were closed, but through the lights in the front windows, she made out some Impressionistic art in one gallery and a collection of lovely hand-blown vases, arranged in a rainbow of color, in the craft shop next door.
When they stepped into Brasserie Dare, Jane inhaled deeply, loving the smell of freshly baked French bread, which was cooked in the brick oven in the middle of the restaurant, right in front of the guests. Bread was her weakness, she had to admit, and if she wasn’t careful, she could inhale a whole baguette by herself.
“Matt,” the hostess at the welcome stand said. “It’s good to see you. Can we check your coats?”
Once again, Matt helped Jane with her coat. Then he helped her with her scarf too, his fingers lightly brushing against her neck and chin, lighting fires along her nerve endings.
“I can—”
“Allow me,” he murmured, causing her hands to fall to her sides.
Having a man remove her scarf with the slowness Matt was employing felt as decadent and sensual as could be, and judging from the twinkle in his blue eyes, he darn well knew what he was doing.
“Are you planning to help me with my glov
es too?” she quipped.
“That might be a little too much for this place. It’s a family establishment, you know.”
She had to fight a smile. The hostess returned after dealing with their coats. “We have your table ready,” she said. “Please follow me.”
Once they reached the table, Matt pulled out her chair and seated her before taking his own. No date had done that for her since her Harvard days, and even then, they’d done it more out of propriety than anything else. Deep down, she knew Matt was acting like a gentleman because he was a gentleman, so she didn’t mind the extra attention.
“I’ll just let Brian know you’ve arrived. He wanted to come out and say hello.” The hostess hurried into the kitchen.
Jane smiled when the server appeared—an eager college student if she was to lay a bet—and disappeared after bringing them menus and waters.
Brian strode through the dining hall wearing a chef hat that resembled a limp mushroom. The name of his restaurant was stitched on his chef’s jacket in red thread, and his pants were a black and white houndstooth she’d seen chefs wear on TV.
“Hey, Matt. Hi, Jane. Welcome to Brasserie Dare.”
Matt and Brian shook hands easily, while Jane only nodded.
“So,” Brian said, turning to her. “Matt tells me you have quite the affinity for wine.”
She met Matt’s eyes and quirked her brow. What was he up to? “Yes,” she said. “Having been trained at the Culinary Institute of America, I’m sure you have one as well.”
“I do,” he said and shared another glance with Matt. “That’s why we have a special treat for you tonight. I’m going to uncork this baby myself.”
When he left their table, she looked over at Matt, who was sitting back in his chair, all casual elegance.
“What did you do?”
“You’ll see,” he said.
Soon Brian was back with a bottle and a waiter’s corkscrew. Their server followed him and set two red wine glasses on the table. Brian strategically turned the bottle away so she couldn’t see the label.
“How about a blind test?” he said, a challenge in his eyes. “I want to see if your palate is as good as Matt claims.”
“Okay. Do you have a blindfold lying around somewhere?” she boldly asked.
“You could use Matt’s tie and go all Fifty Shades on us, but I do try to run a family-friendly establishment.”
Matt chuckled. “Please tell me you didn’t read that book.”
Brian waggled his brows. “Jill did. She only shared the interesting parts.”
Good God. Were two attractive men really discussing Fifty Shades right in front of her? She felt a blush breaking out across her face. Okay, Elizabeth had read her the dirty parts too. She’d been horrified. And she’d needed to ask what some things meant, which had only made Elizabeth guffaw and fall off the couch.
“I assume you mean that wine? You’re covering the label, so I think we’re safe.” She gestured to the bottle.
He poured her an ounce and extended the glass to her, which she picked up with excitement. Her eyes fluttered shut as the mingled aromas of black cherries, oak, spice, and a hint of plum hit her nose. Bold mature fruit. Just the way she liked it.
“Clos de Vougeot. Grand Cru.” she said after all of ten seconds.
Like Chanel No. 5, a Clos de Vougeot had a signature scent. One she could never forget.
“Holy crap,” she heard Brian say.
“Told ya,” Matt responded, but she was so eager to taste the incredible wine that she ignored them and took a sip. The richness of the Vougeot valley flowed into her mouth, and in her mind, she could see the vineyards under the hot French sun and the warm stone of the mansion where the wine was made. She’d visited France many times, and with each trip, she always dove into another part of the wine country. She had been to this particular vineyard many times. Had sipped from its barrels. The pleasure of that magical time swirled through her as she swallowed the wine. The richness of the flavor tantalized her taste buds before nestling back into the deepest corners of her mouth, fading like the kiss of a lover after a heartfelt goodbye.
She opened her eyes, and her gaze locked with Matt’s. Those blue flames were so intense she set the glass aside to look at him.
“Care to guess the year?” Brian asked.
That was always a little tricky, but she took another sip, letting the fruit slide over her tongue, tasting the minerals and the early spring of the wine. “Well, I’d say 1997.”
“You’re kidding me,” Brian said. “If I didn’t have twins to support, I’d give you the bottle on the house. There aren’t too many people who can do what you just did.”
Now she was really blushing. “Well…I’ve taken a lot of courses at the Rudd Center for Professional Wine Studies.”
“Hey, that’s part of the Culinary Institute of America!” Brian exclaimed.
“Yes,” she answered, “but in Napa, as you know.”
“I take it that you didn’t know that, Matt,” Brian said, brow cocked.
“No,” he said, never taking his eyes off her. “But I’ve learned that Jane is full of surprises.”
The soft smile she gave him was irrepressible.
“Well, then. I’m going to let you enjoy the wine. Jane, if you fancy something that’s not on the menu, the server can run it past me. If I can do it, I will. I can’t wait to tell Jill about this.” He was still shaking his head as he went back to the kitchen.
Their server, who had been standing at Brian’s side, topped off Jane’s glass and then poured one for Matt. As she drifted away, they lifted their glasses.
“To new possibilities,” he murmured, and his husky voice made her feel like each syllable was crashing into her skin.
She clicked her glass to his and watched him take a sip of the wine. His eyes fluttered shut just like hers had. “Would it be really awkward if I groaned?” he asked.
Even though her belly tightened, she was able to laugh. “No. It’s worth groaning over, but I have to ask. How did you find a bottle of this?”
“I asked Brian to get something special. He called in a favor with a restaurant in Denver that I happen to know has an excellent wine cellar.”
“Matt, this really is too much. You were squeamish about sharing one of my expensive bottles with you, and now this?”
He covered her hand. “Don’t give it a thought. Really, Jane. I wanted to do something...more than the usual.”
Well, a thousand-dollar bottle of wine shipped from a city a couple hours away was pretty darn special. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, let’s see what Brian has for us to eat.”
He picked up his menu, but Jane had trouble concentrating. Inside she felt a change brewing—just like when the grapes were macerated and transformed into something beautiful and different. Matt was the magician. She looked over his shoulder and caught her reflection in the wide mirror on the far wall, which had been designed to give the impression of more space. Jane saw a new swan—one that didn’t need any props for vanity. It held its head up proudly, knowing it was something special, that it was beautiful just as it was.
Tears gathered in her eyes, and she yanked her gaze down to the menu to keep Matt from seeing her reaction.
When the server came for their order, she said she’d start with the selection of pates accompanied by French baguette—yes, please—and cornichons, her favorite. Who didn’t like little pickles? For her entrée, she went with the whole fish, and when the server asked her if she wanted it deboned tableside, she said she could handle it. Matt’s mouth tipped up at that, but she ignored him. He ordered the mussels and then the steak and pommes frites for an entrée.
The server took their menus. The candle on the table flickered as the other diners’ conversations swirled around them.
“This is incredible. Truly, Matt.”
“Glad you like it. So…”
He was studying her, rather like he was trying to figure her
out.
“So?”
“Since we’re out on an official date, this is where you tell me all about where you’re from, what your family was like, etc.”
Oh God. That was exactly what she didn’t want to do. “Really?” Then she realized how Elizabeth would respond to that. “But that’s so boring,” she said.
“No, seriously. I want to know.”
Damn. She liked being out with him, but all this stuff about her past was ruining the relaxation and ease she’d felt.
“Okay,” he said with a sigh, “how about an easy one? Did you have any dogs growing up?”
“One,” she responded, and the pain of the situation rose within her again. “We had a lab.” Because it was a decent, all-American breed. Her father had been down in the polls, and his advisor had told him buying a puppy for his daughter and releasing the pictures would give him a bump. She’d been in kindergarten at the time. She’d been elated by the arrival of the puppy…right up until she discovered it couldn’t come inside unless photos were needed.
“Where were you just now?” Matt asked, taking a slow sip of his wine.
Shaking off the old memories, she lifted her glass as well. “Nowhere important. My background is pretty dull. Why don’t you tell me about growing up here? Did you know Brian when you were kids? He seems nice.”
He studied her for a moment longer, and then started to tell her stories about growing up in Dare. Where his family had lived. What it had been like to share a bathroom with three sisters. How he’d gone to high school here and that his family had moved to Denver when he was a senior in college since his dad had been offered an amazing position as a surgeon at Denver’s best hospital. And yes, how he’d teased Jill and Brian mercilessly when they were kids since he was older than they were.
When her appetizer arrived, the contrast of the pate and the warm crusty baguette blew her away. Her favorite was boar’s meat and pistachio with a hint of brandy. She spread some on a piece of bread for Matt to enjoy.
“That’s good,” he declared, so she made him another. “Never would have imagined liking boar. Try some mussels.”
The garlic, white wine, butter, and parsley blended into the perfect sauce for the mussel she tried. “Oh, that’s delicious. Do you like escargot?” she asked Matt.
