The only person she could talk to about this was Slade.
But first, she needed caffeine. Christine fixed herself a coffee in a large travel mug, doctoring it up with cream and sugar. She headed toward the river, choosing to sit on top of a picnic table at the park. The river flowing slowly past was almost calming, almost as much as realizing it was too early for Mayor Larry to be doing yoga.
“Thought I’d either find you here or at the winery.” Slade’s deep voice resonated right through her. He sat on the bench near her feet, not looking at her. There were dark circles beneath his eyes. And despite the fact that it was only six o’clock in the morning, he had on a button-down, slacks, and a beautiful mossy-green tie. Her fingers longed to touch it.
“I’m sorry,” they both said at once. Their glances collided and shot back toward the river.
“I never should have made the suggestion,” Christine said. “I got carried away. I never imagined...”
“I knew,” he stated glumly.
“At least we know now. And we can...you know...work together, right? Ignore whatever that was.” Christine wasn’t sure what she’d do if Slade said no. “Because we know.” That their attraction ran too deep. That the timing was wrong.
He glanced at her again, only this time his gaze held as firm as that kiss. “You’re okay with that?”
“I am.” That sounded weak. She said it again, stronger. “I have to work long hours and stay focused. Anything between us would be a distraction, not just at the winery, but here.” She tapped her chest. “You’ve seen how I get when I’m working. I lose track of time. I push myself to the brink of exhaustion. But if I don’t take that shot now, if I screw up something here, I may never get a chance again.”
His nod was far too curt. “What about the, uh...?” He touched the knot hiding the scar.
“It’s your past, your story to tell. I won’t share it with anyone. But...could you tell me what happened?” She bent over, her elbows between her knees, so she could look him directly in the eye.
His eyes, such a beautiful green, shuttered.
Levity was called for. “You don’t have to, but...I mean, you weren’t successful at it for whatever reason, and I can’t imagine you failing at anything.”
He blinked. “Are you teasing me? About this?”
“I suppose I am.” She shared just a hint of a smile. “Does it help?”
“You confound me.” He stared back at the river, but didn’t leave. “Every time I try to add things up about you...things never add up.”
“I’m trying to be straightforward.” The urge to sit on the bench next to him and put her head on his shoulder was powerful. She straightened and blew out a breath.
“I’ve never met anyone who says exactly what they think when they think it.” He said it as if it was a character flaw.
“You’d rather I didn’t say anything.” It was school all over again. She didn’t conform, so she didn’t fit in.
He didn’t deny it.
So she didn’t say anything. For several minutes.
He sighed. “Just say it. Tell me what you’re thinking.”