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She narrowed her eyes. “You want me to stay open to your bullshit?”
He laughed. “I promise you, it’s not bullshit.”
“So, you’re telling me that we’re going to date and you’re going to magically and miraculously fall in love with me?”
He drew in a deep breath. He had a sneaking suspicion he was already falling for her, but this may not be the time to admit it. Instead, he nodded. “Stay open to the possibility?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s too ridiculous for words.”
“No. It isn’t. Anything’s possible. You never know; you might even fall for me.”
Her head shot up, and her eyes widened, a reaction that surprised him—he’d half expected her to laugh.
“Do you concede that’s possible?”
She nodded slowly. “Like you said. Anything’s possible.”
~ ~ ~
Mary Ellen was quiet in the car on the way back. He was taking her home. He hadn’t even suggested that they should go inside the house, visit the apartment that he kept there. She was kind of glad of that now. She’d felt icky when he’d said all that stuff about being grateful to David. Guys didn’t talk like that, not unless they were telling a woman what they thought she wanted to hear. And the only reason they told women what they wanted to hear was in order to get on their good side, to get something they wanted—usually sex. She’d been disappointed to think that he was just using the right words to get what he wanted. She’d started to relax with him, to feel like they were friends. She stared out the window. She couldn’t bring herself to believe the other possibility—the possibility that he was telling the truth. That he really was that into her, that he was glad she wasn’t with David anymore, and that he truly could see her belonging at the winery—with him.
She watched the stars twinkle in the dark sky above. Was it really possible that he could somehow fall for her? She doubted it. What she didn’t doubt was that, as he’d suggested, she could let herself fall for him—if she wasn’t careful. She didn’t need to worry. She'd taught herself to be very careful around men. She’d dealt with heartbreak once, she had no intention of having to deal with it ever again.
Antonio reached across and took hold of her hand. “Are you okay? You’re very quiet over there.”
“I’m fine.” She smiled back at him. “How about you? Has this evening been a disappointment for you? Are you going to drop me home and then go find someone who will go for your lines?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “What happened to that open mind you were going to have?”
She laughed. “I’m struggling with that.”
“Okay. How about you just give me some time, then? Let me prove to you that I’m not full of it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You want to do this again?”
“I do. Tomorrow night?”
“Okay, but don’t worry if you get a better offer. I’ll understand.”
He brought the car to a stop in front of her apartment building and cut the engine, then turned to look at her. “I won’t understand if you do.”
She had to smile. If she didn’t know him, she might be fooled by the dark look he gave her. She might believe that he was the jealous Italian he appeared to be. “All I had planned for tomorrow night was a bubble bath.”
He smiled. “That could still be arranged.”
She laughed.
“I mean, at my place. After dinner.”
Mary Ellen pressed her lips together, hoping he couldn’t see the effect that thought had on her.
He didn’t seem to notice; he was too busy unfastening his seat belt and getting out of the car. Oh. So, he planned to come in with her now? Why not? She went to open her door, but he was there opening it for her and helping her out. She fished her keys out of her purse and let them into the lobby.
She didn’t know what to say as they waited for the elevator. This wasn’t a situation she’d found herself in a very long time. She felt embarrassed and excited at the same time. She was finally going to sleep with Antonio Di Giovanni—the real-life version.
She was so nervous, she jumped when the elevator dinged. He smiled and gestured for her to enter ahead of him. They rode up in silence, and she was a little disappointed that they weren’t all over each other. She’d imagined him to be the kind who’d have a girl pressed up against the wall, hot kisses, hands everywhere. He must be saving it for when they made it to her apartment—she hoped.
Her keys jingled in her hand as she unlocked the door. She pushed it open and looked up at him, not sure what to say, wishing he’d make it easy for her.
