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When was I ever cognizant of my swallowing or breathing?
His shirt hugs his shoulders, a promise, teasing me with all the muscles I wish to discover underneath.
“Why do you have your assistant arrange your dates?” My brain must have been damaged during the incident.Why did I ask that?
His gaze drops and he studies the table for a moment before he sighs. “I haven’t realized how difficult it would be to keep this professional.”
I’m not sure what he means. Am I overstepping with my personal questions? But it’s pain, not his typical annoyance, skimming his face. Sharing is a struggle for him. So, of course, I don’t shut up. “Let’s agree that for this one night we are just two people stranded in wine country.”
His eyes snap up, assessing me like a dangerous object he wants to touch, but is wary of at the same time. My stomach sinks. He doesn’t know if he can trust me. “Don’t answer, Gio. You’re right, you have no reason to trust me.”
He narrows his eyes. “That’s not… I’m not… I—” He sighs and drags his hand over his face. “One night in wine country where we’re just us? Wine honesty?” He chuckles humorlessly.
“Without the alcohol-induced loose tongue.” I grin.
The heavy sigh confirms how hard this is for him. “People—women—want to be with me for my money and influence, so that’s what they get. I spend time with them, so they can post a photo with an eligible, rich bachelor and increase their public profile, and they agree to my terms, mostly covered by a non-disclosure agreement. That’s why lawyers and Lydia are involved. It’s an arrangement.”
The proud man I know sounds defeated, his posture slightly bent. Whatever prompted him to look at relationships through the prism of a cynical business deal? I’m sure the lawsuits were a part of it, but it just seems so sad. “But what’s in it for you?”
“I need a woman in my life to accompany me to events, to keep my mother from matchmaking, and to keep the other hunters and gold diggers at bay.”
“So it’s like a series of fake relationships?” I can’t wrap my head around this.
“No, they’re not fake. They are real. Maybe not conventional, but—”
“You can’t have normal.” I look away, trying to reconcile what he’s just told me. “But doesn’t that prevent you from finding the one?”
He shrugs. “Just because my screening process is unorthodox, it doesn’t mean I won’t meet her. If the boxes are checked.”
I widen my eyes in disbelief. He can’t disregard relationships like this. He has wedding pics of his friends and family at home. Doesn’t he want the same? “You’re such a romantic, Gio,” I tease. “Isn’t it lonely to operate from a place of such control?”
“It is what it is. I accepted it. It’s certainly less of a headache than the other,normalway.” He pops a grape into his mouth. “I did get some normal with you this week. Though sitting on the grass might have traumatized me.”
I laugh. “Did your mother give you shit for staining your pants?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Okay, you’re right, the trauma happened before you. She was always so mad at us, and with four boys, you can imagine grass-stained clothes were only a minor offense.”
“Yet it stuck with you.” We grin at each other.
He runs his tongue across his upper teeth and my heart contrasts his languid move with a spooked gallop. “Is your reaction earlier a ghost of the past?” he asks.
My smile freezes. I busy myself with the uneaten food on my plate.
“Mila, wine honesty, remember?” I feel his gaze on me, heating my skin. I’m sure I look like a ripe tomato by now, trying to sort through my hesitancy.
“Winesty then?” I avoid his eyes and hope to avoid his question as well.
“Winesty. You don’t have to tell me.” It’s more a challenge than a statement. He shared, after all.
How do I tell him I’m this weak, insecure woman who let her boyfriend control and manipulate her? How it took months just to make me realize who the failure was in that story. How I might act like an easy-going, mostly happy, strong woman, but really I’m a mess.
“A controlling father and a manipulative ex with narcissistic tendencies. I used to crave his praise and tried to please him so much that I let him stomp all over me. Honestly, I don’t know why it rushed out earlier. When you told me toeat,I just felt like you were trying to control me. To manipulate me. Tell me what I should do. I know you were just caring, but—”
“I understand. The events of today could trigger a reaction out of character.”
My eyes fall on his lips and then meet his gaze. I’m pretty sure we’ve just both remembered the kiss.
* * *
