And at that, the cork came out with a pop. You know, for extra emphasis.
He shot me an irresistible smile. “That’s lucky, considering Ellie Watt turns me on. And she doesn’t have to be wearing anything at all.”
Shit. I was blushing again. “Where is this Ellie Watt, I’ll kill her,” I joked, looking around and making a fist.
“You tell me,” he said softly. “Is she here?”
His tone brought me down to earth. Yes, unfortunately Ellie Watt was here for once. I didn’t know how my other identities would handle this.
“I can show you my ID,” I said, taking the wine glass from him and swirling the liquid around. I kept my eyes focused on him and he did the same.
He opened his mouth to say something but then quickly closed it. He raised his glass instead.
“To our Day of Fun,” he said, voice warm and rich.
“And to the night,” I answered.
***
Some of the best laid plans are foiled by wine. Though, perhaps in our case, they were made better.
The first bottle of wine went down like a treat and straight to my head. I only had a hotdog and fries at the driving range, and the copious amount of grease ingestion did nothing to slow the wine. Then someone had the idea to break out the second bottle. It was probably me. Anyway, that went down too, all while Camden and I lay sprawled in his lawn chairs, staring up at the satellites as they went across the black sky.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have massive déjà vu about the whole thing, back to the time when Camden and I used to lie on top of his trampoline and listen to music. He must have been reminded of that too, because when he ran back inside the house to get a third bottle of wine from his rack, he picked up his iPod dock as well.
A few songs into Calexico’s Feast of Wire (my choice), when the bottle was half-drunk, we suddenly remembered we wanted to eat food. So Camden ran back inside to get the asparagus and steak—and a bag full of our thrift store clothes.
He threw the bag onto the lawn chair beside me and started firing up the grill.
“You know the rules, Ellie,” he said. “We can’t eat until we’re wearing that stuff.”
“You just want to get my clothes off, don’t you?” I teased, rifling through it. There was my skanky halter top (really nothing more than a bikini top) and Peggy Bundy pants.
“I can get your clothes off in other ways,” he shot back. He buried his devious smile behind the action of squirting lighter fluid onto the charcoals.
I have no doubt about that, I thought. I was fortunate, too, that I hadn’t said it out loud. Drunk Ellie needed to keep herself in check. And with that, I made a point of savoring the rest of the wine in my glass. Even though I was having the most fun I’d had in a very, very long time, I couldn’t forget who I was and the real reason I was there.
Even though every part of me was just screaming to let go.
A few minutes later and the backyard filled with the tantalizing sizzle of grilled steaks. I breathed in deeply, my stomach growling.
“You wanted yours medium, right?” he asked. “Not much longer now.”
Which meant it was changing time. While he started poking at the foil-wrapped asparagus, I turned the lawn chair around so that the high back was blocking his view of me. Then, after a quick look around at his neighbors and seeing only darkness from their windows, I shimmied out of my jeans. Unfortunately, I was drunk and had forgotten to take off my boots first. I fell over sideways onto the grass.
“What are you doing over there?” I heard Camden yell and the sound of metal tongs being placed on a rung.
“Stay back! I’m fine!” I yelled, hoping my voice wasn’t loud enough to alert the neighbors.
I thanked my lucky stars that my combat boots had a zipper and quickly unzipped them. Lying on my back with my leg bent up to my head, I pulled off the jeans and tossed them to the side. Then I got on my knees and started to look for my ugly Peg pants. Where the hell did they go?
“Looking for these?” Camden asked from behind me.
Swallowing my pride, I turned around on my knees and looked up. Camden was holding the pants in one hand. He dropped them beside him and then walked over to me. He held out his hand.
“Come on,” he said gently, a shadowed intensity in his eyes.
I shook my head quickly. “No. I’m just in my underwear.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Let me help you up.”
My heart thumped loudly in my ears and I looked away from his face and straight ahead at his knees. “I don’t want you to see.”
Suddenly he was down on his knees, and though there were a few inches between us, he was closer than he’d ever been. “I don’t care, Ellie,” he said determinedly.