She heard his footsteps coming back up the steps and tried to think of what she was going to say. She felt like a fool, which was unusual for her. She was always on top of her game. Was it him who put her so on edge or just her frustrations with what had happened to her recently? Either way, she needed to come up with some explanation for her ridiculous behavior.
“I brought three—merlot, white zin, and pinot grigio. There are other choices I can go down and get if you would prefer something else. Also, there is a chiller down there with cold beer and a cabinet full of hard liquor, though I’m not sure what I have to mix it with unless you want an old-fashioned screwdriver.”
“Pinot would be great.”
“Would you like to inspect the cork?” he asked, no trace of a smile this time.
“No. I’m sorry about that. I just, I don’t know. I had an unpleasant experience not too long ago and I guess I freaked out a little.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Listen, Adriana, if you are uncomfortable being here, I can take you home right now. I won’t be offended. I promise.”
“I appreciate that. You don’t have to take me home.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”
“I’m sure. I want to stay.”
Eager not to dwell on things, Adriana waited while he uncorked the pinot grigio and poured her a glass but opened the merlot for himself.
“I prefer red myself,” he told her. “Do I need to take a sip of yours to put you at ease?”
Adriana blushed and smiled at him, feeling incredibly silly. He was being incredibly good-natured about it, though he wasn’t going to let her live it down anytime soon, she thought.
“I think I’ll be okay. So, these events you have to go to, tell me about them.”
“Boring work stuff for later. I will give you the info on them tomorrow and you can let me know which ones you are able to make it to, if any. You’re not obligated, but it would actually be doing me a favor by being my plus one, even if you choose to do so platonically. I hate these things, but there is always good food and plenty to drink.”
“I guess we’ll see how our schedules gel then,” she replied, flattered that he was asking, even after she’d had a mini meltdown earlier. Still, she wasn’t quite willing to just accept blindly. Dane looked around the room like he’d never really looked at it before.
“This place could really use something, couldn’t it?” he said.
“What do you mean?” she asked, trying to be polite.
“I guess I’ve been content to just let it stay like Mom and Dad had it. Maybe it’s time to make it my own.”
“I suppose that is up to you. If you’re comfortable with it like this, then there is nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, I am, but you’re the first person that I’ve ever brought here. I mean, as an adult. I’m just now realizing how it must look to someone else.”
“I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it. It looks fine. It just doesn’t seem like you. There are crocheted blankets draped across the sofa,” she said, smiling.
He laughed, glancing at the colorful aqua blue and yellow blanket he’d watched his mom making during his teen years. It was bright, cheerful, and it made him happy for it to be there, but it wasn’t the only one in the room. In addition to the ones on other chairs and in the bedrooms, there was also a stack of them, along with some handmade quilts in the hall closet.
“Yeah. I don’t suppose you’d want to help a guy out with that?”
“What? Redecorating? I’m hardly qualified.”
“I bet you have great taste. You should help me fix this place up a bit, make it more my own.”
“I can do that,” she told him.
Adriana sat back and sipped her wine, looking around as she considered the possibilities. It meant something to her that he was coming up with a reason for her to spend more time here.
“It’s getting late. I should probably get you back home soon,” he said, glancing at his watch.
“It’s fine. It’s not that late.”
“I’m sure you have work tomorrow.”
“No. I’m off for a few days, actually.”
“I see. I guess we can just keep drinking wine then,” he replied, “but if we do that, I might not be able to drive you home. You could spend the night, though. I mean, I’m not being presumptuous or anything. I have a guest room. The door locks.”
Adriana laughed at the mention of her locking herself in, but only thought about the offer for a second.
“More wine then, please.”
She considered that only a little while ago, she’d panicked over the possibility of him being a serial killer, and now she was accepting his invitation to stay over. What was wrong with her? What was this effect he had on her that both frightened her and thrilled her at the same time?