Pink Champagne Read Online Free PDF Page A

had fantastic mimosas, but Quenby couldn’t think about champagne at the moment.
    The group sat out on the patio at a long wooden picnic table covered by a light blue and white tablecloth. Quenby’s friend, Ron, sat next to her. When he went to the restroom, Caleb walked around the table and slid into that space. She picked at the remains of her steak and eggs.
    Quenby had invited him, and she wanted him there, but she was suddenly nervous at the thought of having a one-on-one conversation with him again. She didn’t know how to start a conversation with last night hanging between them. From what she remembered, they hadn’t had much to say to each other at the club, either. It’d been too loud, and they were—otherwise preoccupied. Or at least she’d been.
    He gave her a smile that just melted her. “Hi.”
    Uh-oh. Here it went. That heart dropping, sweaty, shaky kind of reaction. She swallowed hard. “Hi.”
    “Sorry if I pissed you off this morning with something I said. Sometimes I think I’m funny, and I’m really not.” Everything he said was charming in that Georgian accent with that deep voice. He could have been reading the menu to her, and she would have been a puddle at his feet.
    She laughed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “No problem.” The previous night kept coming back to her in flashes. “Did you carry me last night?”
    He nodded. “From the club to your car to your condo all the way to your bed.”
    “No,” she moaned, clapping a hand to her forehead. “I really am sorry about last night.”
    “Why? You didn’t do anything you need to be sorry for.” He leaned toward the picnic table a little.
    “I acted like a drunken sorority girl on Girls Gone Wild.”
    “What’s wrong with going wild every once in a while?”
    She laughed.
    “You have a really pretty laugh.” His hazel eyes were intent on her.
    Quenby’s heart jumped so hard, she expected it to leap right out of her chest. “Thanks.” Her face warmed, and she looked down at her hands. Her chipped thumbnail was suddenly very interesting.
    “I meant what I said yesterday. That man was crazy to do whatever made you leave him at that altar. But he sure did some lucky man somewhere in your future a huge favor.”
    She could barely swallow. She shifted down the bench as he moved his hand toward her shoulder.
    “Quenby,” Caleb said. Her name on his lips sent chills down her spine. She looked up and forced herself to focus. That deep Southern accent was making it difficult.
    “I could be a horrible person. You barely know anything about me. This is only the third conversation we’ve had.” She looked at him as if he were speaking another language.
    Caleb smiled. “Fourth. And I highly doubt you’re a horrible person. But you’re right. And I was hoping we could get to know each other better. I know we don’t have very much time left, but I’d like to spend every minute of it learning about you.”
    Quenby returned the smile. “Would you?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What would be the point? Your plane leaves in a few hours.”
    He moved closer and his voice became softer. “Why does everything have to have a point?” His lips were almost at her ear when he said, “Quenby. I like it. How’d you come across that name anyway?”
    Good. She could tell the story of her name. Something to distract her from all the very dangerous feelings flooding her at that moment. Talking in a voice that was a little too loud and a little too high, she said, “It’s always a good ice breaker, you know. My name. Anyway, when my mom was pregnant with me, she couldn’t get enough of Beverly Cleary’s Ramona Quimby novels. This grown woman, right? I guess she got book cravings in addition to food cravings. Anyway, she was completely in love with them and she really liked Ramona’s last name. So she decided to give it to me with a slight variation. And so…I’m Quenby.”
    “Sounds like an interesting lady.” Caleb