by Aurora Rey
“That’s pretty standard date fare.”
Mat sighed. He was right, but she didn’t have to like it. “You’re going to tell me I should bring her flowers, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t dream of telling you to do that. Even though I’ve already ordered a bouquet for Renata.”
“But you’re wooing. I’m not.” And had no plans to.
Dom shrugged. Mat couldn’t tell if he was judging her or feeling sorry for her. “Maybe you should be.”
Mat scowled. She didn’t need to woo. The women she connected with weren’t interested in that any more than she was. But even as she told herself that, Mat imagined Graham, smiling at a big bunch of tulips. She shook her head and pulled up another trap. “No, thank you.”
“Have it your way. You’re the one who said she was looking for pointers.”
She had, but she hadn’t been serious. And now he’d gone and put ideas in her head. “Enough about me. Tell me about your epic plans to woo Renata.”
Dom’s goofy grin returned. “Well, I ordered flowers. And I went with a reservation at Ciro and Sal’s. I feel like it’s old school romantic.”
Mat couldn’t disagree. If she were inclined to be romantic, she’d go with the candlelit wine cellar vibe, too. “And let me guess. Walk on the beach under a full moon when you’re done. With a single, sweet kiss good night.”
“You are such an ass.”
“Yep.” She knew he didn’t mean it, or didn’t really, at least, but his words stuck in her head. Would Graham expect flowers? No, that wasn’t the right question. If Graham was the kind of woman who expected flowers, Mat would lose interest pretty quickly. What she wanted to know was if Graham might like flowers. Even more, would buying her flowers be nice or send all the wrong messages?
“Dude, relax. I was just yanking your chain.”
She steered to the next trap. “I’m not mad.”
Dom gave her a suspicious look. “Could have fooled me. You should see your face.”
Now she was annoyed. Not with Dom, but with herself. She’d let him get under her skin, question her MO. She shrugged. “No, man, you just got me thinking about flowers. This is how I look when I think about flowers.”
That got her a laugh. “I didn’t realize they were such a trigger.”
Mat hooked the next buoy and started hauling the trap to the surface. “More like an allergic reaction.”
By four in the afternoon, they’d hit their daily quota of traps and called it a day. Definitely a decent catch. They unloaded, docked the boat, and finished cleaning and prepping for the next day. Dom was more focused than usual and they finished in about half the usual time.
“Wait, is this date tonight? Is that why you’re in such a hurry?”
“Yeah, dude. I got things to do and places to be.”
Mat smiled, feeling a deep wave of affection for the guy who was so much more of a brother to her than any of her actual brothers. “You should have said so. I could have finished on my own.”
He smiled. “I’m good. I’m not going to leave you hanging.”
They climbed the ramp to the main pier and headed toward Mat’s truck. At the divided house they both called home, Mat punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Good luck tonight. I mean it.”
“Thanks. You going to call Graham?”
Mat considered. “You know, I think I might.”
Dom raised a brow. “No flowers, though.”
“You never know, man. You never know.”
They parted ways and Mat went into her apartment. First things first. She peeled off her clothes, tossed them in the hamper, and went straight for the shower. A few minutes later, she stood in her kitchen in dark green boxer briefs and an undershirt. She popped a beer and leaned against the sink, phone in hand. She pulled up Graham’s number and studied it, quickly dismissing the idea of an actual phone call.
Mat typed a couple of versions, realizing uncomfortably that Graham might not even be interested in a second date. Or would it be a first? She shook her head. She did not like the bubble of uncertainty and couldn’t remember the last time her confidence had wavered this much. She settled on a message and hit send before she could overthink it any more.
Hey. It’s Mat from the other night. Remember me? She added a winky face to make it clear she was being flirty and not insecure. She waited a beat. Delivered, but not read. Mat set down her phone and walked away.
A minute later she picked it up. No change. She scrolled through her recent messages. Maybe she should distract herself with some company. But as she did so, her brain remained stubbornly fixated on Graham. Since it felt skeevy to hit on one woman while thinking about another, she put the phone back down. She’d almost crossed the room when it pinged with a new text alert.
Hey, Mat from the other night. I most certainly remember you.
She’d added a pair of little flames at the end. Mat grinned. Light, flirty. In short, perfect. Wondering if you might be interested in getting together again. Perhaps with dinner this time.
There was no pause this time in the response. Would love to. Free any evening this week but Friday.
Thursday would be sooner, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She didn’t want to seem too eager. Saturday? Osteria 160? I know the chef and could get us a reservation.
Sounds perfect. Let me know what time and I’ll be there.
Mat promised to be in touch soon. It was a relief that Graham put out the idea of meeting there. It meant she didn’t have to think about picking her up. Or getting flowers. Feeling much more relaxed about the whole thing, she opened her fridge and contemplated what to have for dinner.
* * *
Graham came home from work vaguely disappointed. She’d looked for Mat’s boat, but it wasn’t in its slip. She’d then stalled for a good twenty minutes. Still no Mat, and she’d managed to make herself feel silly. Kind of like an eager teenager. Not the vibe she was going for.
Fortunately, she had Jess to prevent her from moping. They threw a frozen pizza in the oven and Jess offered to distract her with the latest of her own escapades. This consisted of meeting a guy at the vet’s office where she worked and trying to figure out if his flirtations were casual or in earnest. Jess had decided she wanted them to be earnest, so she was figuring out how to make it easy for him to ask her out. That quickly turned into her deciding she should just ask him out and get it over with already.
Graham appreciated the distraction, as well as Jess’s no-fear approach to dating. She liked to think it was rubbing off on her, if slowly. She was about to say as much when her phone pinged. It was Mat. She showed Jess the screen. Jess made an oohing sound. Graham took a minute to decide on her reply before unlocking her phone.
“Just do it. Don’t overthink it,” Jess said.
Graham bit her lip, typed a response. They went back and forth for a moment. She looked up and found Jess sitting with her legs crossed, twiddling her thumbs. Athena sat on the back of the sofa, her disinterest looking far more genuine.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Jess waved a hand in dismissal. “Just tell me what she said.”
“We’re going out Saturday.” Graham couldn’t suppress a smile. She had a date.
“Out for drinks? Out for dinner? Out as nothing more than a pretext for going back to her place?”
“Jess.” Graham tried to make her voice stern. It didn’t work.
Jess raised her hands and shrugged. “What? It’s a perfectly valid question.”
It was. And as much as Graham hoped for a repeat of her previous Saturday night, it would have felt weird if the invitation came off as nothing more than a booty call. “Dinner. Well, dinner and probably going back to her place.”
“What did she say? Tell me exactly.”
Graham looked at the screen. “She said, ‘Wondering if you might be interested in getting together again. Perhaps with dinner this time.’”
“Oh, that’s good. I like that very
much.”
“And then she offered to get a reservation at Osteria 160.”
“Mmm.” Jess nodded her approval. “Classy, but not over the top.”
Graham hadn’t been there. “She said she knows the chef.”
“Nice. I like this woman. What’s her name again?”
“Mat.”
“Such a cute, preppy butch name.”
Graham made a face. “I’m pretty sure she isn’t preppy.”
Jess shrugged, unfazed. “That’s okay. It’s still a nice name. What are you going to wear?”
“I don’t know. I literally made plans two minutes ago.”
“You mean to tell me you haven’t spent the last three days thinking about going out with her again and, by extension, where you would go and what you would wear.”
She had given it some thought, but didn’t intend to give Jess the satisfaction of saying so. Instead, she quirked a brow. “In most of my thoughts, we aren’t wearing anything at all.”
“Damn, girl.” Jess did a little dance from her spot on the sofa. “Looks like someone found your vixen switch.”
In truth, she talked sassier than she felt. Still, there was something to be said for fake it till you make it. If Mat was convinced enough to ask for a repeat, she was doing something right. It was her turn to shrug. “Lights on and open for business.”
Jess whooped her approval just as the timer on the oven began to beep. Since she was on a roll, Graham didn’t want to admit her relief, but she was glad for the distraction. She liked the idea of having a bold, uninhibited side, but the reality of it—not to mention acting on it—still felt a little unnatural.
Graham went to the kitchen and slid the spinach pizza from the oven. She cut it into slices and divided it between two plates. She returned to the living room and handed one to Jess. “Bon appétit.”
Jess picked up one of the pieces, blowing on it before taking a bite. “You know, we should probably cook for real at some point.”
“Yeah, but this is so good. And cheaper than buying a ton of ingredients.” And between pizza, the tikka masala and saag paneer that came in pouches, and the frozen veggie burritos she’d discovered, it didn’t get boring.
Jess nodded. “Agreed. It just seemed like what I was supposed to say.”
Graham took a bite of her own pizza. It really was good. “If I’m going to embrace being sexually liberated, I’m sure as hell not going to feel ashamed about not slaving away in the kitchen all day.”
“Well said, my friend.” Jess lifted one of her slices in a toast. “Well said.”
Conversation lulled as they ate. Jess clicked on the television and flipped the channel to Jeopardy. Graham started thinking about what she’d wear on her date. Her phone dinged again, but when she looked down, it was a text from Will that appeared on her screen, not Mat. What are you up to? Please don’t say an orgy.
Graham snorted a laugh at the insinuation. I’m not that girl…yet.
She filled Will in on her plans with Mat. Will didn’t try to hide her relief that it was an actual date. Graham promised to learn Mat’s last name, find out whether lobstering was her primary profession, and to be careful. She also promised to join Will and Nora for dinner the following week.
After a cheesy movie with Jess, Graham decided to go to bed early. She picked up her Kindle, but left it on her chest as she stared at the ceiling. She was going on a date with Mat. A real one. And yet, the weird nervousness she usually felt about sex—would they, wouldn’t they—had already been resolved. It still felt strange, but she was getting more and more behind the whole idea of having sex not be this monolithic thing. It took so much of the pressure off.
She set the Kindle aside and turned off the lamp. In the darkness, she did a mental inventory of her closet. Despite her joke earlier, she did want to look nice and the right outfit would be key—more dinner date than dance club. Maybe the lime green dress? She wondered what Mat might wear. Then, without really meaning to, Graham started thinking about Mat without clothes. She imagined her hands on Mat’s golden skin, her dark nipples hard under Graham’s hand.
The image brought with it a quick flash of arousal. Graham pressed her thighs together in an effort to stave off the feeling, the wanting that came with it. Saturday suddenly felt a long way off.
Chapter Eight
Graham arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, but Mat was already there. She stood on the sidewalk, scrolling through something on her phone and looking sexy as hell. The outfit wasn’t all that different from the night at the club, only she’d swapped the dark jeans for black pants and wore a gray button-down instead of black. Her hair managed to look put together and messy at the same time. Graham patted her own hair instinctively. Satisfied it wasn’t too windblown, she said, “Hi.”
“Hey.” Mat looked her way and offered an easy smile. She slid her phone into her back pocket and walked toward Graham. When Mat reached her, she put a hand on Graham’s arm, leaned in, and kissed her cheek.
Graham blushed, not because she didn’t like it, but because she didn’t expect it. Of course, she’d never gone on a first date after having sex with someone. “Good to see you again.”
“Same. Hungry?”
“Sure.”
They walked the short distance to the restaurant door. Mat put her hand on Graham’s lower back. It was a casual gesture, but also intimate. Graham liked it. A lot. Mat opened the door and gestured for Graham to lead the way. In a matter of minutes, they were seated at a table near the window. Outside, the tiny patio was crowded with flower pots overflowing with petunias and impatiens. She agreed with Jess’s description—classy, but not over the top.
“How do you know the chef?” Graham asked.
Mat grinned. “I recently convinced her to let my family’s business be her exclusive lobster supplier.”
“Nice.” Graham meant the arrangement, but she also liked that Mat was part of a family business. “Is it you and your parents? Siblings?”
“It’s everyone.” Mat angled her head and smiled. “Not really, but it feels that way sometimes.”
Graham laughed. “I can imagine.”
“I operate a boat with my cousin, Dom. My dad just retired. He sold his boat to one of my cousins. Two of my uncles are still at it and a third runs the distribution side of things.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. We go way back.”
Graham thought about having a line of work so deeply entrenched in the family. It probably came with a fair share of headaches, but it had a certain appeal. “I love that.”
Their waiter approached the table to run through the specials and take drink orders. Mat went with an IPA while Graham ordered a glass of sauvignon blanc. They perused the menu, with Mat settling fairly quickly on the steak frites. “I eat lots of seafood,” she said with a shrug.
Graham laughed. “Of course. I’m leaning toward the salad with grilled peaches and burrata, but I also want fries. Should I order my own or may I steal some of yours?”
Mat’s smile was playful and a little suggestive. “I’ll share.”
“Perfect.”
The waiter returned and they placed their orders. When he left, there was a brief lull in the conversation. She studied Mat and decided to indulge her curiosity. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t do this very often?”
“Do what very often? Eat?” Mat sipped her beer, set it down slowly. It wasn’t a surprise that Graham would be assessing her, trying to figure her out. That didn’t stop it from making her uncomfortable. What did surprise her was realizing how much she wanted Graham to like her.
Graham gave her a knowing smile. “Take a woman out to dinner, on an actual date.”
Mat folded her arms and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Are you accusing me of being cheap?”
“Oh, no.” Graham shook her head slowly, still with that smile. “I didn’t mean to imply that at all.”
“So?” Mat knew where Graham was
going, but wanted to hear her say it. Her tone would say a lot about how Graham viewed the two of them, as well as what she expected. “What are you implying?”
Graham crossed her arms, mirroring Mat’s pose. “You seem a bit out of your element. It was just an observation.”
Mat frowned. She hated being transparent. Worse, she hated the idea that Graham could read her so easily. It meant that Graham had some kind of crazy deep perceptiveness going on or that they had a connection that went well beyond the bedroom. “I think I preferred the insinuation I’m cheap.”
Graham laughed, a low, sensual sound that made her seem older than Mat guessed her to be. “Come on, you’re making me feel bad.”
Mat pointed a finger at her. “Hey, you’re the one who started it.”
Graham leaned back. Her eyes remained playful. “Well, you never answered my question.”
Normally, Mat hated being teased, at least by someone outside her immediate family. So often, it veiled something mean-spirited or held some ulterior motive. But Graham seemed different, genuinely playful. It made Mat want to play along. “Technically, you asked why you had a feeling. I know better than to tell a woman the why or how of her feelings.”
Graham considered. “Touché. Let me rephrase. Is this unusual for you?”
“I wouldn’t say unusual.” Mat angled her head. “Just not my standard MO.”
“I see.” Graham tapped a finger to her lips. “For what it’s worth, I think the trappings of dating can be overrated.”
Trappings of dating? Mat swallowed the laugh that bubbled up, certain that Graham didn’t mean it in a humorous way. Instead, she focused on the sentiment of the words, which she could totally get behind. “Agreed.”
Graham lifted her wine glass, tapped it lightly to Mat’s beer. “To breaking with convention.”
Mat picked up the glass to make it a proper toast. “I’ll drink to that.”
Their food came. Graham ate her salad, stealing fries from Mat’s plate as promised. She asked about Graham’s education—where she went to school and how she chose her field. She figured it was a safer topic than family or work, one that would keep them in nice, casual territory. Graham’s answers were thoughtful, with just a hint of self-deprecation. Rather than making Mat feel like they had little in common, she found herself nodding in agreement. Their experiences couldn’t have been more different, but Graham had much more of a practical streak than Mat had given her credit for. Not to mention a love for being on the water.
