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He laughed. “Funny. They don’t care. This is one of my favorite zinfandels from Sonoma.”
When he filled her glass, his fingers brushed hers again. Heat shot straight to her center and her heart thrummed in her chest. She drew her hand back and resolved to keep her mind above the table.
Flings were in her future, just not yet. One problem. Her body wasn’t quite cooperating with her mind.
He shifted back in his seat. “So what brought you to Laguna from San Diego?”
She stiffened, refusing to allow memories of Doug to ruin her appetite. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to bore you with the details.”
“You couldn’t bore me.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
She jolted and once again her nipples pebbled. She downed half her glass of wine before responding.
“I was an editor atHealthy Woman. I’d been planning on taking a sabbatical, but I realized I never wanted to go back, so I guess I quit my job.”
“I’ve seen that magazine. What happened?” Nick leaned closer and his clean beachy scent reached her nostrils.
“The job was fine…” She polished off the rest of her wine. At this rate, she’d be buzzed by the time the entrees arrived.Slow down, Sophie.
“Being an editor was extremely stressful, and then some things, um, some things shifted. My dream was always to be a writer. Who knows, I could bomb out with this, but I had to try. What is it they say? It’s better to regret the things you’ve done instead of those you haven’t?” She shrugged, setting down the empty glass.
“I think that’s great you’re following your dreams. Carpe diem, right?” He refilled her glass before toasting her.
She gestured with her wine. “Seizing the day, that’s me.”
Nick quirked a brow. “But why now? Most people aren’t brave enough to jump without a net.”
“Come on, trading in wearing grown-up clothes at the office to writing in my pajamas with my cat on my lap? Who could resist?” She winked. “Tell me what you do besides rent cottages?”
“Sure. I’m an architect.”
“So you’ve readThe Fountainhead, right? Are you following in Roark’s footsteps?” Howard Roark was one of her favorite literary heroes.
“It’s my favorite book. I hope to make my mark…” For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty clouded his gaze.
Architects were trailblazers, creative visionaries––it helped give her a clearer image of who he was. Her shoulders softened. “To fulfilling dreams. Tell me more.”
He shared fascinating stories about his favorite buildings around the country and his latest projects. Light conversation and laughter dominated the rest of the meal. Nick was easy to talk to and could keep up with her lightning quick changes of topics. How refreshing was that?
And a major contrast to Doug, who used to snap at her to focus on one thing at a time. Jerk.
* * *
Nick pouredthe last of the wine. He smiled at her across the table, his gorgeous eyes crinkling at the corners. Any last vestiges of doubt about joining him for dinner disappeared and she returned his smile.
Without warning, he leaned across the table, cupped her face in his hands, and brushed her mouth with his. Gentle, at first. Unable to resist, her lips parted, and she swirled her tongue against his. He tasted like her favorite wine mixed with something uniquely his own. Delicious. Heat bloomed low in her belly.
With a growl, he deepened the kiss, threading his fingers into her hair and pulling her closer.
“Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. Let’s go back to my place,” he murmured against her lips.
She jerked back as if he’d slapped her. Her pulse hammered in her throat and her spine stiffened.
Fury replaced her complacency. “I knew it! Welcome to the neighborhood, my ass. You took advantage. This ‘casual dinner’ is finished.”
He held up both hands. “Sophie. Sophie, calm down. It was just a kiss. I just—”
“I don’t want to hear it. Now take me home, or I’m getting an Uber.” She pushed away from the table.
