Page 16 of One Wild Wish

CHAPTERFIVE

JIMMY

The first day of the sommelier contest arrived without fanfare. Considering I’d waited two years to hatch the perfect plan and would finally deal with my family, I’d expected a bit more ceremony. A James Bond soundtrack, maybe.

But calm was fine. All I needed was the outcome.

The restaurant hadn’t changed since it had opened four years ago. Egos inflated, the Adriano brothers had spared no expense and followed up their first two restaurants, Aroma and Blend, with Crush. Rave reviews piled up, and the wait list grew, all three hot spots offering killer wines and cool vibes. Crush still had a small tree growing in the center of the room, decorated with tiny white lights. The world class wines lining the back wall were as impressive as ever, the sleek wooden tables and white chairs cool and stylish.

The two major differences since I’d last visited were that, these days, a typical evening at Crush saw more empty chairs than full.

And I wasn’t here with Sophia.

I swallowed the bitterness and scanned the space. Three quarters of the sixty-two seats were taken, each place set with five glasses, a sheet of paper, and a pen. I nabbed a chair at an empty foursome to keep my distance. Not that I needed to make the effort. The other contestants were business-casual junkies, from the slick of their hair to the shine of their shoes. My torn jeans, biker boots, and faded “Dare Me” T-shirt were preppy repellents, which suited me fine.

I doubted a person here could discern a 2004 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon from a 2005. Probably wouldn’t be able to afford their three grand price tags, either.

A bottle I’d opened the other night without a thought.

Although I’d cleared wine from my life, there were a few purchases too precious to disown, the Screaming Eagle among them, and I’d popped a cork for my dirty princess. When she saw it (after rummaging through my cupboards—the nosy little thing), she’d gasped and draped herself over the bottle. I hadn’t given two shits about impressing a girl in ages, but the urge to see her face after her first sip was too hard to resist. Wine, no matter the price, was meant to be enjoyed.

The second it had touched her tongue, her head lolled back, a glorious sigh following. A sight to behold. Watching her drink that wine had been as unforgettable as the first lick up her thigh. Normally my evenings with women weren’t all-night affairs. We’d enjoy each other, chase our release, then say our goodbyes. They didn’t leave me aching for more, but it had been two weeks since I’d fucked my dirty princess, and I’d replayed every taste and bite between us until I’d memorized the feel of her.

A habit I needed to kick.

The seats filled up, all but the few around me, men and women ages twenty to sixty fixing their suit jackets, crossing and uncrossing their legs. A nervous lot, the bunch of them. I couldn’t deny the excitement twitching up my spine. Although I was on a mission, the thrill of tasting wine again was hard to ignore. A breath later, that excitement smacked me upside the head.

Pushing through the doors was the dirty princess herself, as though I’d conjured her.

She smoothed her gray pencil skirt, then adjusted the buttons of her white blouse. She touched her hair next, the straight strands pulled into a ponytail. She wore as little makeup as the night I’d met her, but she was as done up as the rest of this uptight crowd. Difference was, I’d seen this particular woman throw her head back in ecstasy. My blood heated, the snippets I’d relived the past two weeks as fresh as ever.

Hermoaning as she sucked me into her mouth.

Mesinking so deep inside her, I lost my mind.

Uslaughing hysterically as we snapped that shot of her ass.

I’d barely cracked a smile the past two years, but I’d never howled like that with a woman. Never had to walk around, clutching my stomach to find my breath. I also couldn’t recall having sex four times in one night because I simply couldn’t get enough.

It was easy to chalk the wild evening up to me finally finding a way to deal with my family. Liberation had me ready to jump out of my skin. There was something more, though. The innocence of her freckle-stained face, willowy body, and big doe eyes as she told me to fuck herhard had shot my lust into overdrive. Now here she was again.

The last person I wanted to see.

She continued to adjust her clothes and clutch her purse, anxiety radiating from her in waves. The urge to walk over and test if my touch could ease her in the light of day like it had that night lit through me, unwelcome in its force.

Her jumpy gaze landed on me and her mouth dropped open. Steady chatter hummed through the space, but I could’ve sworn she squeaked. She clamped her jaw shut and searched the room for a free seat. Her frantic gaze was forced back to me, and the only three vacant spots. Again she searched in vain, the rounding of her spine a clue she wasn’t thrilled about her options. She looked out the way she came, squeezed her eyes, then squared her shoulders and marched toward me.

Part of me—the lower half—wanted to pin her to the wall with my thighs while I hitched that proper little skirt higher. The other part hoped she’d wandered into the wrong place. Not because our night together had been shitty, or the fact that she’d disappeared without a trace. No. The thing that had the tendons in my neck bunching was remembering how good it all was. Too good and too much fun, and I’d imagined rounds two and three and four ad nauseam. But rounds always ended in a knockout punch.

This girl was nothing but trouble.

She paused at the table, drew in a long breath, mumbled something as she exhaled, then glared at the seat beside me and the ones across. She chose beside, probably to face the room.

The only reason we’d hooked up two weeks ago was because there were no names and no strings. She’d admitted how hard it would be for her to relax, how awkward she’d feel afterward. The relaxing part I took care of with one brush of my lips. The awkward was still alive and kicking.

What went down between us couldn’t happen again. Distractions over the next two months weren’t an option, and repeat affairs led to feelings, and feelings led to promises, and promises were nothing but lies dressed up to seduce. Not an outcome I was keen to revisit. Still, I couldn’t ignore her anxiety, as long as she wasn’t here because of me.

I leaned toward her. “You’re the last person I expected to see.”