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He reached for his door handle. “Any requests?”
“Since we’re having pasta, a Pinot Noir would be good.”
“Pinot Noir, you got it. Any particular brand?”
“I’m not picky.”
Liam pushed the door open. “Anything else you can think of?”
“Nothing comes to mind.”
He gave her a wink. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
Utah watched him walk across the parking lot to the sliding glass doors at the front of the store. His swagger suggested he was confident, but not necessarily cocky. Something she assumed came with age.
And like a fine wine, Liam McDonnell had aged quite nicely.
She was having trouble figuring him out. On one hand, he was rich, drop-dead gorgeous, and had flirted with her over the phone like only a bona fide playboy could. But in person, he was also kind, caring, and a little nerdy.
She pegged him to be maybe ten or fifteen years older than her thirty-two, but that was simply because of the grey in his hair, crinkle lines around his eyes, and how accomplished he seemed to be. His body, on the other hand, looked like it rivaled men’s probably half his age.
She hoped to get a better look without his clothes later.
And holy hell, did he know how to kiss. That only came from experience. She imagined he was probably an amazing lover, too.
She was going to be really disappointed if he wasn’t.
****
Liam
He tried to get his dick to calm the fuck down before he walked into the liquor store. But he kept replaying that kiss in his head as he perused the red wines, so it wasn’t cooperating.
Should he have been so bold?
It had felt right, and she hadn’t seemed to mind—quite the opposite. She’d clung to his shirt and returned the kiss with enthusiasm.
Shit, do I have condoms?
Whoa, buddy. Slow the fuck down. Just because she kissed you doesn’t mean she wants to ride your dick.
But what if she did? Was he prepared?
Maybe they sell condoms at the checkout stand.
He kept rereading the same aisle signs because none of the names were registering in his head.
He really needed to get laid more often.
One kiss from a hot woman and he was discombobulated.
Focus, dumbass!
The sooner he picked a bottle, the sooner he could back to her.
He suddenly remembered he had bought Trojans to take on his last business trip a few months ago. It’d turned out he hadn’t needed them.
But better to have them and not need them than need them and not have them.
