“Come on. We’re starting from scratch, right? Let’s get it all out there. Clear the air.”
Oh geez. I took an extra large sip. “Ok, besides the professional thing—”
“My brother hooked up with Brooke while she was a tasting room attendant. Thayle has worked for Grado for years, and apparently, she and my brother Neo both had secret crushes,” he said the word as if it were beneath him to use the word ‘crush,’ “or whatever you call it, on each other. They got hot and heavy despite the fact that Neo was technically her boss.”
I cocked my head to the side. “So you’re saying your family has a habit of workplace romances, which may or may not be appropriate?”
“I’m saying, I’m not your boss. You’re not mine. There’s no conflict.”
It occurred to me at that very moment what we were talking about. So much for “maybe” he was attracted to me. Marco all but came out and admitted it simply by having this conversation in the first place.
“Secondly,” I said, as if he hadn’t just laid out that argument, “I like nice guys.”
Marco’s mock indignation actually made me smile. “I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”
I’m sure the look on my face didn’t have to be interpreted. “And honest ones.”
He raised his glass. “Touché,” he said, taking sip. Somehow, knowing Marco was more of a beer guy but seeing how naturally he held that glass by the stem, how comfortable he was with it, made him even more attractive. Absurd, but true.
“And thirdly,” I continued, gaining confidence. “I’m not your type.”
At that, his eyes narrowed. “What does that even mean?”
Attempting to keep my voice casual, I said, “I saw you last night.” Duh. Of course I did, we had a conversation at the bar. “I’m not your type of woman.”
Marco seemed genuinely confused, making me regret this entire conversation. “So what’s my type, exactly?”
I shrugged and tried to think of another word for sleazy. “Slinky dresses. Adoring gazes, as if you’re god’s gift to the world. Thin, like the kind of woman who orders a salad at a corner bar.”
I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but was about to find out. Marco looked ready to unleash. “I won’t argue with the slinky dresses and adoring gazes, but that last one,” he smirked, “I agree with you.”
That he liked thin women. Of course he did. What guy didn’t?
“Ordering a salad at KC’s is ridiculous.”
That did make me smile. I took a sip of wine to hide it.
Before he could utter another word, and turn me into that adoring female he expected, I finished my list. “And finally, most importantly, you aren’t my type either.”
No longer smirking, he waited for me to finish. I didn’t.
“Meaning?”
Without letting my eyes dip down to look at anything but his face which was, unfortunately, enough on its own to make me clench in anticipation of what it would feel like to have Marco Grado inside me, I stated the obvious. Or at least, the obvious to me.
“I don’t mess around with playboys. Just...not interested.”
I’d love to see him argue that one. But he couldn’t, of course. So Marco didn’t even try.
“Well folks,” the captain chimed in, “if you haven’t had the chance to grab your wine to go, it’s now or never. On behalf of Sunset Vineyards, I’d like to thank you for joining us this evening. We hope to see you again soon.”
I stood, as did most of the other passengers that had been sitting.
“Give me a sec,” I said to Marco. Hardly able to believe we actually had that conversion, I put on my big girl panties, pretended it was no big deal that Marco was into me and that I’d just shot him down, and made my way over to the tasting attendant. After introducing myself, I headed toward Isaiah, complimented him on a perfect trip and headed back to Marco, who still hadn’t moved despite the fact the boat was docking.
He patted the seat next to him.
It was exactly the kind of high-handedness that turned me off. Normally. I was an independent woman who did not need a man ordering me around. Except...