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It was definitely harder than it looked. She’d even seen Cruz crack a smile at the theatrics. Probably made more humorous by the fact that the men and women were all bedecked in their square-dancing finery. The women in full ruffled blue skirts and the men in matching blue shirts.
Finished with the tour, they had been escorted down into what looked like a cavern, but lit by soft lighting and candles, it felt almost magical. The large round table where they sat was surrounded with chairs carved from old oak barrels, adding to the ambiance.
Up to now, Payton had been surrounded by the women of the group as they were whisked through the fields in golf carts and then walked through the distillery, but she was ever conscious of Cruz’s presence behind her. Certain he was watching her. With those dark, swoon-worthy eyes that felt like they could see right inside her head. Now, as they took their seats, the couples paired off, and she couldn’t avoid him any longer.
They were, after all, supposed to be a couple. In love.
Their server circled the table, a bottle of tequila in hand. He poured a little of the whiter, less-aged product into her glass and invited them to smell the liquor’s distinctive aroma, to notice how the liquid clung
to the glass, showing it’s sweetness.
Payton stared into the glass with some trepidation. No chaser was around today, and she was certain she would probably offend them if she even asked for one. Cruz took a sip and nodded. He looked back at her with some amusement in those dark brown eyes.
“Gonna give it a try?”
When he looked at her like that, his eyes almost dreamy and languid in the dim lighting, she’d do about anything. She sipped and immediately grimaced as the liquid burned its way down. But the aftertaste…well, it actually wasn’t so bad. Light. Flavorful. She maybe even liked it.
The burning in her belly grew hotter as Cruz looked at her in approval. He had to stop looking at her like that. It was unnerving.
Then there was the fact that now, ensconced so close to each other, it was hard to miss the faint smell of soap and aftershave that clung to his skin. The familiar leather and incense that conjured up a dark bedroom, satin sheets, and all the sorts of forbidden thoughts that were more appropriate to Fifty Shades of Grey than her life.
The server returned with another bottle, more amber than gold that he called an anejo that was aged a minimum of a year. She let him pour it but held off on drinking it until she had some food in her stomach so as not to repeat yesterday’s unpleasantries. And to make certain she didn’t do anything crazy, like lean across the space dividing her and Cruz and lick the dark crevice under his jaw. Something that may have passed her mind a time or two in the past five minutes.
“So tell us,” Patti said over the din around the table and pulling her gaze from the dark figure next to her. “How did you two meet?”
She met Cruz’s eyes but looked away quickly. The image of him standing at the door of the flower shop that night flashed in her mind. Remembering the way her heart had hammered like some cartoon character at the way he looked at her.
She took a tiny sip of her drink, needing a little more fortitude.
“Funny story.” She cleared her throat. “His brother, Dominic, had just gotten engaged to my best friend, and to surprise his new fiancée, Dom had planned a surprise party. Before that day, we had never met each other, so when we ran into each other at the florist the night of the party, we were complete strangers.”
Bev and the other women leaned in, smiling encouragingly at her. Cruz was still silent, though. Listening. Up to now, neither of them had ever acknowledged the fact that they had met each other there, before their later, less fortunate, introduction.
“So there I was waiting for the lady to grab the bouquet I’d ordered from the cooler in the back when the bell rang over the door. I turned around to see Cruz standing there, looking so tall and impossibly big that he filled the doorway. He was soaking wet—it had been raining that night—water dripping down his face, his hair slicked back all dark and delicious. He walked so purposely toward me, and I worried he could hear my heart pounding as his gaze stayed on mine the entire time.”
“It was hard to take my eyes off of her.” His voice intruded, low and husky, and she froze as he took over, not daring to look at him. But his words washed over her, hot and thrilling. “She was wearing a long emerald gown—the color of her eyes.” That’s right. She’d been coming from a fundraiser she had chaired for Primary Children’s Hospital. “She was breathtaking. And that was before she smiled.”
There was a long pause and she realized that he was waiting for her now. To hear her version of things. “We made small talk, about the weather and it being unseasonably warm for January. But there was some strange pull between us, even as we talked about nothing. I think he mentioned something about Singin’ In the Rain. The movie?” She caught a glimpse at him from the corner of her eyes, saw him nodding as he remembered as well. “When the woman returned with my flowers, I was suddenly loath to go.”
But she’d also been engaged at that time. And the feelings she was experiencing, although thrilling and exciting, were foreign and entirely inappropriate. “But I was still in a relationship with someone, so it wasn’t like I could just ask for his number. In fact, I was so flustered, I thanked the woman and, turning to Cruz, told him I hoped he had a good night. To be honest, as I left, I was a bit disappointed that he didn’t stop me. Didn’t ask me for my number or at least my name.”
“Not that I didn’t want to,” Cruz said. “But I was already late with the flowers my brother had wanted so I grabbed the order and started back. She was on my mind the entire drive, though, and before I arrived I’d already decided to go back to the shop to convince them to tell me what they knew about her. A name, anything.”
He had? She turned finally to look at him, his eyes so dark but soft as he stared at her. There was that faintest smile on his lips again and she caught her breath.
“So imagine my surprise when a few minutes later, at the party, I turned around to find the same beautiful woman from the flower shop standing there with the flowers she’d left with. Yellow roses.” He didn’t go on to describe what he’d said and the crack that followed when she’d smacked his head with the vase. Accidentally. They both remembered that and what happened from there all too well.
“It’s like it was fate. Kismet. The two of you meeting like that,” Bev said and wiped a tear away. Payton might have had a few that were ready to drop as well.
She’d never known, all this time, if she’d imagined their connection or not. She didn’t have to wonder that anymore.
He’d planned on finding her.
“To kismet.” It was Lenny, holding his glass of tequila up, inviting everyone to join in his toast.
She paused before taking her own glass and met Cruz’s eyes again.
“To kismet,” they all repeated, glasses clanging. It was with some relief that she closed her eyes and tossed the rest of the contents down, the heat blazing a trail down to her belly that was already on fire.
