Tequila Rose by Willow Winters (any book recommendations .TXT) 📗

call it something but all I can think right now is that I need to get the two of them the hell away from each other as quickly as possible.

“Have fun, lovebirds,” Renee calls out and I catch Robert’s glare at her comment as I pull a questioning Brody to the door.

Robert doesn’t say goodbye and I don’t either, but he doesn’t let me leave without one more remark. “You look good, Mags.” Robert’s statement doesn’t go unnoticed by Brody, who merely lifts his left brow as my cheeks flame. It’s not until the door closes behind us that I can breathe. Even then, it’s staggered.

“He’s right, Mags,” Brody says and then rests his splayed hand at the small of my back for only a second to lean closer to me and whisper in my ear, “You look beautiful.”

Oh, my heart. My poor, dumb, ready-to-be-torn-to-shreds heart.

Brody

There wasn’t a single second I was nervous back then. The memories of the bar years ago filter in and out as I wait for Magnolia to come back to the table. I know damn well, I wasn’t ever nervous.

Maybe when I thought she was leaving me … maybe then there was an ounce of it. But as I sit here, staring between the lit candles and the double doors to the restrooms, the silver fork in my hand tapping restlessly against the white tablecloth, I’m nervous as fuck.

When the hell did I become this guy?

Running my hand down the back of my neck, I note that it’s hotter in here than it should be, or at least it feels like it is and that’s not helping any.

Morgan’s smells like melted butter and the perfect steak seasoning. Given the classic décor I saw online, I thought Magnolia was right and this place would make for the perfect first date. The pictures on my phone didn’t do it justice, though. Maybe this is too much, too classy.

I don’t know. Something just feels off.

Not trusting myself to speak since something seems to be lodged in the back of my throat, when she reenters the room and glances around, searching for where the waiter sat us, I lift a hand in the air, waiting for her doe eyes to meet mine. When they do, it all seems to calm.

Everything is normal again. Everything’s fine. Why? Because she smiles, soft and sweet and only takes her gaze away from mine to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and pretend like she’s not blushing.

My pulse slows and it’s all right. She’s here and whatever the hell came over me simmers down.

“You really do look beautiful tonight,” I say and I’m proud that it comes out as smoothly as it sounded in my head. With an asymmetric grin on my face, Magnolia lifts her gaze to mine, taking her seat in the booth across from me. I silently thank whoever’s in charge up there for not giving us chairs. I would have pulled it out for her if we were … if I wasn’t stuck right where I am, watching her practically glide in. “I’m not just trying to make you blush,” I add and she huffs a small laugh, shaking her head and looking away for just a moment.

“Compliments will get you nowhere,” she replies with a smile and a playfulness I remember. But then her eyes drop to the water goblet, where her fingers rest on the stem and her simper drops too.

“Listen,” Magnolia starts to say, a more serious tone now present in her voice, laced with something that sounds like an ending you don’t want to hear.

I’m saved by the waiter, who comes just then to ask her what she’d like to drink. He knows her by name. Everyone around here seems to know everyone by name.

Griffin wasn’t wrong about that.

“The Green Tea,” she answers and the second the waiter is gone, I don’t give her a chance to continue whatever she was going to say before.

“Green tea? You don’t want a drink?” My gaze travels from my beer, the beads of condensation growing on the tall glass, and then back to her.

“The Green Tea is a cocktail,” she tells me with a smile before taking a sip of water. “With vodka.”

“Ah,” I say then lean back in my seat and nod. “That’s more like it.”

There’s a moment of quiet. It’s comfortable at first, but then just like when she sat down, her smile fades.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Her voice cracks at the very end and I can’t stand the look in her eyes. Maybe she doesn’t notice that her hands fall to her lap and her shoulders hunch inward at whatever she thinks is so damn important. But I notice and I hate it.

“Now hold up,” I say, thinking as fast as I can on my feet, all those jitters I was feeling coming back to me. “I have a proposition.”

“A proposition?”

With a single nod, the smile is weak on her beautiful face, but it’s there, just barely.

I clear my throat when the waiter comes back. I think his name is Nathanial. Tall and lean, with dark scruffy hair but everything thing else on him is clean cut.

“Do you two need another minute?”

“Yes please,” Magnolia answers for us and I can only stare at her. Whatever’s on her mind feels like an ending. Like the last page of a story that never really had a chance.

I don’t accept it.

Before she can say whatever she was going to say with those beautiful lips parted, I make my move.

“Pretend it’s all new. Would you tell someone you just met whatever you’re about to tell me? Like it’s okay for first date conversation?”

“But you aren’t someone I just met,” she says insistently.