Page 14 of Wine & Dine

I also feel…pretty. My new cut and color flits in the breeze, and my clothes feel foreign but flirty. I’ve propped my feet up on the edge of the railing as I sip wine at four o’clock in the afternoon.

“Hey.” Garrett’s deep voice startles me. With his condo as the other half of this floor, his balcony is only a few feet from Denton’s. “You like Otis?”

It takes me a moment to comprehend his meaning. The man. The song.

“I love this song. I love older music.” I don’t know why I offer the information. Rusty hates older tunes, preferring heavy metal and the like. He especially hates when I try to make him dance to classics or any music, for that fact.

“Like who?”

Etta James tops the list of those I rattle off while he smiles as I speak. He doesn’t offer commentary; he just listens, so I keep talking.

“When I was a girl, my mother loved to dance. My father never took her, although she claims that’s how they met. She’d make me dance with her in the living room. Swing dance was her favorite. Big band.” I huff a laugh with the memory. “I was never very good, but she made me practice over and over. I never knew how much I loved it until I didn’t do it anymore.” The memory is sadder than I recall. As I grew older, the last thing I wanted to do was dance with my mother. I wanted to dance with boys instead. For years, I did, and then I fell into Rusty’s bed after James. Neither man would dance with me.

“I’d love to dance again,” I say, and then my head swings in the direction of Garrett who balances on his forearms against his balcony railing. “I have no idea why I told you that.”

His mouth curls, and he tips his head. “I’m glad you did.”

We look at one another for a moment like we did earlier on the beach and in the hall. We aren’t exactly staring. We’re just looking—eyes focused on eyes. What does he see when he looks at me?

“Let me…” Garrett begins, but then his phone rings. He frowns at something on the device and holds up a hand for me, signaling one minute. Then he turns back for his condo with the phone at his ear.

Let me come over, I foolishly thought he’d say, but there would be no reason for him to ask.

When he’s gone for more than five minutes, I decide I’ve had enough of the day. Taking my wine and my music, I go back inside Denton’s condo and head to bed.

+ + +

Garrett and I spend several days in a routine. Every day around four, he comes to the door and asks me to take a walk with him. Wally is growing on me. He gives me this doggie look with his strange blue eyes, and I pretend I’m offended, exasperated at the interruption to my not-so-busy life, but I always give in, secretly pleased to spend time with both of them. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I look forward to the time.

“Hey, can you dog sit for me?”

“What?” I’ve stopped in my tracks at the request as we walk along the beach.

“I have to go out of town for one night. My usual dog hotel can’t take him on such short notice.”

“There’s a dog hotel?”

“Yeah.” He looks at me like I have two heads for never hearing of such a thing, and I look back at him, equally puzzled at the concept. “So will you?”

“I can’t dog sit.”

“Why not?” Garrett asks a bit surprised, his eyes shifting sideways when we begin walking again.

Because I hate dogs, I want to remind him. I watch Wally race into the waves and then chase a sea gull, kicking up sand at his feet as he runs. Dirty. Smelly. Dog.

“It’s only one night. I need a sitter.”

“What do you do when you have one-night stands?”

Garrett scoffs. “I don’t have them. Wally is my excuse not to stay.”

“Interesting,” I mutter, without realizing I’ve said it out loud. “What about a girlfriend?” I saw the blonde come and go from his apartment the first week I was here.

“Don’t have one of those either.” His voice lowers, and I glance over my shoulder at him.

“Ever?” I’d be shocked. He’s too good looking, too smooth not to hold a woman’s attention.

“Had a few. They didn’t stick.” He refuses to look at me, and I’m wondering if there’s a story. Of course, I have my own. I loved James Harrington. He was my knight in chrome armor. The bad boy my dad disapproved of, and I gave everything to him although his heart was never mine. Then came Rusty, who was a rebound when James went for Evie. Eventually, Rusty became my regular. In a small town, there aren’t many options once you’re over thirty. I was thirty-seven when we began hooking up. The thought makes me shudder.