It wasn’t as though she’d been posing. She’d been down at the river taking a group of tourists kayaking, and one of them had tagged her in their pictures.
She wrote Nick backThe best part of my job is the outdoor activities.
He answered withMaybe I’ll have to hire you for some activities of my own.
Okay, that could be construed the wrong way. Um, no, she wasn’t a call girl. Although, he might just mean he’d like to go kayaking sometime. It was hard to judge a person’s tone from a text.
She wroteYou can see all of the activities the inn offers on our website.
After that, the rest of his texts were friendly but not suggestive. Good thing. She didn’t want a guy who expected something from her because he bought her a hamburger.
On Friday night, Nick showed up right on time. That was a point in his favor. He was taller than she remembered and more distinguished looking. Maybe that was due to his clothes. His shirt and jacket seemed expensive, even before she noticed the Ralph Lauren monogram embroidered on the pocket.
They made small talk while they walked to his car, a gray Tesla. It had an all-leather interior and heated seats. Being wealthy was another point in his favor. More for Lucas to be jealous about.
The conversation at dinner flowed easily. Nick talked about himself a lot, but that was normal on a first date, or at least normal for successful men. They always wanted to let a woman know they were a good catch. Nick also complimented herthroughout the meal, which meant he might be interested in another date. Bozeman wasn’t that far away.
Maybe Nick would be more than just a good revenge wedding date. Maybe this could be the start of a relationship.
After dinner, they drove to Legends, a bar that had dancing on the weekends. Nick opened the door for her, took her hand, and led her over to the counter. The feel of his fingers wrapping around hers was nice. How long had it been since a guy held her hand? She’d dated a few guys last summer, but all of them had been tourists who’d stayed at the inn. She’d known that the chances of those dates turning into something serious were about as high as having a balmy day in December.
“What do you want to drink?” Nick asked.
“A diet Sprite.”
“Soda?” he asked. “We’re here to have fun. Get a tequila or something.”
Apparently Delancey hadn’t mentioned to Nick that she didn’t drink. He hadn’t commented at dinner when Riley chose water instead of the red wine he’d ordered, so she’d thought he knew.
“I don’t drink,” she answered.
He cocked his head as though she’d just told him she expected Bigfoot to make an appearance. “Why not?”
That wasn’t a simple question, and she changed her answer depending on who asked. Sometimes she said, “Religious reasons” because most people didn’t ask more questions after that, lest she try to convert them. Sometimes she said, “Health reasons,” and let people wonder whether she had liver problems or was just really careful about nutrition.
If she was trying to get rid of a guy, she’d been known to say, “I can’t get another DUI, or I’ll go to prison again.”
But the answer was deeper and more painful than that. When she’d moved to Lark Springs in high school, she hadn’t toldanyone that she came to live with her grandmother because her mother had lost custody of her.
Riley didn’t drink because she’d seen what it had done to her mother and wasn’t about to make the same mistakes. Or, as Olivia suggested once, Riley was too angry at her mother to even risk making the same mistakes. If Riley ever developed a drinking problem, then she’d have to forgive her mother for her failings.
Olivia could only get away with saying those sorts of things because her father was an alcoholic. She understood what it was like.
Nick probably didn’t.
He was standing there waiting for a response, and she debated which to give. Telling him about her mother on the first date wasn’t an option. She didn’t want pity.
Riley shrugged. “Someone has to be the designated driver. This way, you can drink as much as you like.”
He squeezed her hand. “That’s the beauty of having a self-driving car. We can both drink as much as we want.” He turned to the bartender. “A Manhattan for me and a daiquiri for the lady.”
Riley blinked at him in surprise. He was just going to disregard what she’d said? “I’ll stick with a diet Sprite,” she told the bartender. “I’d hate to lose my AA chip tonight.”
Nick’s head swung to her. “Are you serious? Do you have…” he let the question drift off, unsure how to ask her if she was really a recovering alcoholic.
She probably wasn’t making the best impression, but honestly, he shouldn’t have tried to override her order. “I’m just joking,” she said, “I’ve never drunk.”
“Never?” His face registered astonishment. “Well, don’t be afraid to try something new.”