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“No!” She playfully taps my arm. “I just didn’t take you for a wine-drinking type of guy.”
“Why’s that?” I play defensively.
“You seem too tough for wine.”
“Oh, honey.” I angle my gait closer. “Wineistough. Do you know what sommeliers have to do to pass those fucking tests? Brutal, I tell you.”
“I don’t know what a sommelier is.” She laughs.
“Essentially, they’re a Wine Stewart.” Now, she bellows. In fact, we have to stop dead in our tracks so she can get the giggles out of her system. If I weren’t completely secure in who I am, I might start to feel the tug of self-consciousness.
“I’m sorry.” Sienna brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It just sounded so funny.”
“Whatever.” I pretend to be offended and move a few paces ahead, shoving my hands in my jacket.
“No, stop!”
“I’m fine. It’s not my fault you’d rather go to a bar with a dirt floor than experience a little culture.” I hang on to the last word, affecting my speech to the maximum.
“I’m cultured. Kind of.” Sienna catches up with me, and I slow down so we’re shoulder to shoulder once more.
“Honestly? Same. I like wine, but I don’t know much about it.” I lead her up the front steps to Russell’s Wine Bar and pause at the door. “I just wanted to impress you by taking you somewhere nice.”
Ugh. I don’t know where the honesty came from, but I surprisingly don’t regret it. Sienna’s smile fades. She looks up at me with those giant doe eyes, and I swear the night wind stands still. Her beauty is truly a breathtaking sight to behold.
“Did it work?” One eye squints against my own vulnerability.
Sienna’s eyes dart to the night sky as she takes in a deep inhale. “Yes.” Her visible exhale floats in the night wind. “Color me impressed.”
“Cool.” I hold the door open for her, and we make our way inside the dimly lit tasting room. A strange sensation nudges my ribs. It’s so important to me that Sienna has a good time tonight. I know it shouldn’t matter. It’s just a first date, but I want it to go well.
While I can’t exactly explain why its importance is so imminent, I know that she’s the type of woman I could fall for. I’m not afraid of getting into another relationship, but I am afraid that if she finds out that I’m not as successful as I appear, with a busy tattoo shop on the best strip in town, she may think I’m a total loser.
Just like my ex-girlfriend thought.
I shake that nagging feeling away as the hostess takes us to our little table by the window—one I specifically requested. As soon as we’re seated, I start to relax, which could be attributed to the soft music or the sophisticated atmosphere. But something tells me it’s the gorgeous angel sitting across from me.
ChapterSix
Sienna
With its low lighting,small plates, and a menu featuring a few bottles of wine more expensive than my entire net worth right now, I should be intimidated. But it’s the dead sexy tattoo artist I’m out with that’s got my nerves on edge. Holt’s already different from how I imagined him to be. I’m dying to know more.
“Red or white?” The candle on our table highlights the dimple in Holt’s chin.
“In all truth, I’m not really a wine drinker.” My thumb flicks the menu’s edge. “Give me a shot of whiskey and a beer, and I’m golden, but I don’t know my ass from my elbow when it comes to wine.”
“Do you trust me?” That’s a loaded question. So far, so good, but I don’t want to count my chickens. As if reading my mind, Holt continues. “To order for us.”
“All things considered, have at it.” His lips spread into a sexy smile, lips so kissable they should almost come with a fucking content warning.
The server stops by, and Holt orders us a bottle of white and a few small plates. The woman’s eyes scan my date's sizable torso, and I can’t blame her. I’m shocked they even make t-shirts to fit around his barrel chest. An image of my red nails digging into his pecs nearly has me choking on my water.
A quick, tense silence washes over us as soon as the server leaves. The clinking of dinnerware and low-fi chill music fills the space between us. Not one for a lull in conversation, I try my hand.
“Do you ask all of your clients out or just the ones who spread their legs for you on the first session?” Holt huffs out a laugh, then covers his mouth with the back of his hand.
“All of them. Every single one.”
