set a glass of white wine in front of her, took the seat next to hers, and took a sip of his beer.
She stared at the wineglass. “What’s this?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Your drink.”
“I’d prefer a beer.”
He dismissed that and checked out the dancers getting rowdy to Dierks Bentley’s “5-1-5-0.” “Women drink wine. It’s classy.” He shook his head as everyone called out the numbers in the song, leaned over, and kissed her. “And sexy. Try it. You’ll like it.”
She picked up the wineglass and took a sip of the lukewarm chardonnay. “It’s a little dry.”
His lips pressed into a tight line and his eyes went flat. “You’re trying to ruin this date.”
The accusation stunned her. “No, I’m not.”
He looked away. His annoyance grew with every second she didn’t say anything.
Feeling like it was up to her to salvage this evening, she put her hand on his arm and squeezed. “Clint, I’m sorry. Thank you for the wine.” Even though I’d rather have an ice-cold beer.
It took him a second to stop watching the dancers pumping their fists in the air, yelling out the chorus to the song, and focus on her again. “You should appreciate that I’m trying to make you better.”
Excuse me. “Better than what?” She leaned away from him, completely stunned by that offensive statement.
He hooked his hand at the back of her neck and drew her close. “You’re just trying to pick a fight. I thought we came here tonight to have some fun.”
She wasn’t having any fun. And the men in her life made it feel like she was the one making their lives miserable.
She picked up her glass and took a deep swallow and still didn’t like the wine.
“That’s my girl.” Clint clinked his glass with hers and took a long pull on the beer she wished were hers. “You shouldn’t let things get to you so much.”
Prickly much? You’re the one with the passive-aggressive attitude tonight.
She didn’t want to prove him right by pushing the argument that she didn’t need him to make her better. Whatever! She was fine the way she was. Except for the Tate thing. But she was working on it.
You don’t just forget your first love.
She was trying to put Tate in the past.
One date at a time, even if this one had gone off the rails.
“Let’s dance.” She loved to dance. She’d lose herself in the music and movement and closeness with Clint.
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor and right into his arms. She lost herself in the rhythm of the two-step and by the third song she was having fun as Clint twirled her around and right back into his chest where he held her close and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.
This was more like it.
Out of breath, she made her way back to their table and downed the last of her wine before she even took her seat. Clint slid onto his stool and tipped back his beer. He ordered another and wine for her from the passing waitress, but she held up her hand. “Forget the wine, I’ll take a water.”
Clint nuzzled her neck again. “Here I was hoping to get you tipsy so I could persuade you to let me stay the night with you.”
She planted her chin in her hand and stared at him with a flirty smile. “Is that your plan?”
“Oh, I have plans for you.”
This was the fun, easy guy who showed up to all their other dates.
The waitress set their drinks in front of them. She wanted a taste of his cold beer to wash away the dry wine still on her tongue. She snagged his mug, took a big gulp, and handed it back. “Yum. That’s good.”
His brows drew together, but he was still smiling, even if it didn’t reach his eyes. While they caught their breath and finished their drinks, she asked, “How was work?”
“My boss is on my case about a proposal that was missing one key component in the bid amount. My assistant screwed up, but I got blamed because we lost the job.”
“I guess you missed it when you checked her work.”
“My assistant should do her job right if she wants to keep it.”
Sounds like she did your job.
She kept her mouth shut because she really didn’t know exactly what he did at work, and changed the subject. “What are your plans for the weekend?”
“I’m having the guys over to watch the game. Do you want to come