Page 37 of Give Me a Reason

Anne bit the inside of her cheek to stop the teasing smile that tugged at her lips.

What was she thinking? Was she really flirting with Frederick Nam?

Would she have kissed him—in front of her friends and family—if the server hadn’t interrupted them?

A wave of longing pulsed through her body. God, yes.

Then what? She had to think about the then-what. She and Frederick always had amazing chemistry. The more time they spent together, the more it became apparent that ten years apart hadn’t changed that.

With both of them being a great deal tipsy and much less inhibited, a kiss might sound like a good idea at the moment. But what if Frederick regretted kissing her afterward? Isn’t that what he’d said? That he would do something both of them would regret?

She couldn’t risk losing the little progress she’d made in regaining his trust. His face didn’t turn stony with anger when he looked at her anymore.

And on the rare occasion that they spoke, his voice wasn’t lined with jagged accusation like it used to be.

A drunken kiss was not worth losing his hard-won trust. She couldn’t bear it if he completely shut her out again.

But they sat so close that Anne felt the heat coming off Frederick’s body.

It made the then-what seem very far away, like a tiny speck of dust on the horizon, and made the drunken kiss much more enticing.

She pressed the back of her hand against her hot cheek.

In addition to the human furnace next to her and the heating effect he had on her, she felt positively toasty because of all the wine she’d had this afternoon.

Anne had planned on taking it easy on the wine, since she hadn’t eaten much all day. She’d been too nervous and excited for the trip to do anything but pack, which took way longer than necessary as she vacillated over what clothes to bring.

But that logical plan had gone out the door at the third winery, when she saw Frederick laughing softly at something Bethany said, his head angled solicitously toward her. Anne didn’t waste a single drop of wine from that point forward.

Now she questioned the wisdom of that jealousy-induced choice. She felt slightly unsteady, even though she sat with her feet firmly planted on the floor. And her body swayed and listed toward Frederick, answering the irresistible call of their attraction.

Katie sat on her other side, drinking boxed apple juice.

When their eyes met, she smirked knowingly.

Anne blushed and hoped no one else noticed the attraction flaring between her and Frederick.

Her friend probably saw more than the others because she knew their history, but Anne still glanced warily toward the opposite end of the table.

Bethany, Coraline, and Tessa were busy being entertained by the Alvarez brothers’ shenanigans, too distracted to notice anything. She sighed in relief.

Even so, Anne should switch to apple juice like her friend.

Sobriety—with a dash of willpower—sounded really good right now.

She needed all her focus to not lean against Frederick’s strong, tall body.

He was so close that she would only need to shift a hand’s width to press up against him.

She bit her lip to stop herself from whimpering.

It shouldn’t be this hard not to touch the man whose heart she broke.

Out of desperation, Anne grabbed a breadstick from the mason jar closest to her. It was so crunchy that she couldn’t hear a thing while she chewed. It even distracted her from her heated thoughts, so she took another big bite and crunched away.

“Good idea.” Frederick’s arm brushed against hers as he reached for a breadstick, and she chewed furiously to hide her involuntary shiver.

He stilled for a second, then he clenched the breadstick between his teeth like a cigar and poured them both a glass of water from a pitcher on the table. “This should help as well.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, annoyed by his sensible suggestion even though she’d been thinking along the same lines a minute ago. She shoved the tail end of the breadstick into her mouth and munched aggressively before washing it down with some wine, childishly ignoring the water.

“Excuse me,” a man behind her said in a smooth baritone.

Anne glanced over her shoulder and nearly did a double take. A jaw-droppingly beautiful man smiled sheepishly from the small, round table behind her. He had his chair turned halfway around with his arm slung over the back so he could lean closer to her.

He was Asian Ken come to life. She wanted to poke his face to make sure he wasn’t made of plastic, but that probably wouldn’t have been very polite. Holy crap. She really needed to drink some water and sober up before she went around poking people in their faces.

“I don’t want to be a brute and steal your breadsticks.” He rubbed the back of his head with an endearing aw-shucks expression. “But you’re making it look so delicious that I can’t resist. Can I borrow a breadstick? I’ll pay you back when they bring ours out.”

“Sure.” Anne gave him a bemused smile. Honestly, she should be attracted to the man, but with Frederick sitting right next to her, she could barely keep her attention on him.

When she turned back to reach for the breadsticks, Frederick had beaten her to it and stuck the jar out to the handsome stranger. “Why don’t you take the whole thing so you don’t bother her again?”

She blinked. Frederick was such a friendly, easygoing guy—except to her, for obvious reasons—but he was being straight-out rude to the man. She ignored the ridiculous thought that he might be jealous.

The stranger arched an eyebrow and cocked his head, giving Frederick an appraising look. Then he said with rueful charm, “I would feel terrible depriving her of all her snack.”

She shook off her confusion and gave Frederick a stern frown before smiling at the stranger. “Take as many as you want. I’m happy to share, even though they’re technically not mine.”

“You’re too generous.” He took a single breadstick with long, elegant fingers. He nodded at her, then cast a brief glance at Frederick. “Thank you both. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

Anne watched him turn back to his companion at his table, a beautiful brunette who looked vaguely familiar, then she faced Frederick as he tossed back the entirety of their first pour with his brows pulled low over his eyes.

She’d been about to ask him what was going on, but he looked moody enough that she decided to leave things be.

She took a more moderate sip of her pinot grigio to actually taste the wine, unlike her grouchy tasting partner.

It was delicious, but not as good as the Viognier they’d had at Tombstone Winery.

Deciding to be sensible, she poured the remaining wine into the spittoon and drank a generous amount of water.

She doubted Frederick had kissing on his mind anymore, but the then-what had become much clearer with some time to reflect.

She wouldn’t risk their uneasy truce for a fleeting kiss.

He already seemed to be regretting their near-miss, brooding silently beside her.

It wasn’t until they were on their third wine that Frederick broke the stilted silence between them.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“Overstepped?” she asked in an equally quiet voice, her brows burrowing into a frown. Was he apologizing for their almost-kiss? The thought sparked a burst of anger inside her. Was it so important to him to draw a line in the sand between them?

“I shouldn’t have gotten worked up over that man.” He grimaced in embarrassment.

“The man? Oh, you mean Ken?” Her voice rose incredulously, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. A surreptitious glance over her shoulder showed that the man was deep in conversation with the brunette beauty.

Frederick’s grimace morphed into a dark scowl. “How do you know his name?”

“Know whose name?” She gave her head a sharp shake to clear it. “You mean the breadstick guy? It was just a silly joke because he looks like Asian Ken.”

“Asian Ken? I don’t see it.” He raked his fingers through his hair, then said close to her ear, “Anyway, the man was obviously coming on to you. But you don’t need me to protect you.”

“No, I don’t,” she whispered, her chest tight with frustration. She wanted to say, Maybe I do. Maybe I want to be yours to protect. “Besides, he just wanted a breadstick.”

Frederick scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re as na?ve as you were ten years ago.”

“Fine. I won’t.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I wasn’t so na?ve back then to miss that you were coming on to me, was I?”

“No.” He cleared his throat, tugging on his collar. “No, you weren’t.”

“I thought so.” She decided to let him off the hook and murmured, “It doesn’t matter who’s right about the breadstick guy. I’m never going to see the man again, so let’s just forget about him.”

“Great idea.” Frederick raised his water glass in a toast and said in a normal volume, “I’ll drink to that.”

She laughed, relieved he was over his sullen mood and that it wasn’t brought on by their almost-kiss.

She clinked her glass against his and drained her water.

It meant so much to her to be able to talk to him like this…

to laugh with him. And she was grateful that guilt didn’t squeeze the air out of her every time she saw him.

Their long-overdue conversation on Christmas night seemed to have done them both a world of good. Maybe this was enough. Maybe she could live with him just not actively hating her anymore.

“Anne,” he said, his voice low and rumbly.

“Y-yes?” Her heart fluttered foolishly in her chest, all because he’d said her name.

“I… I think…” He stopped and coughed into his fist. “I’ve been awful to you every time I’ve seen you. I was still so… angry. I was devastated, and disappointed in you, when you ended our relationship like that…”