Keeping Pace Read Online Free

be direct by standing right in his sightline. Either way, I guess I’d made up my mind to take him up on his offer.
    Joshua lifted his hand, which held a bottle of red wine. “The guy told me this is a good one. I hope you’ll accept it. I feel really bad about what happened.”
    I chanced a quick glance at the label as he held it outstretched. Indeed he hadn’t been steered wrong. Moderately priced, it was still from a good winery. The burgundy liquid would go very well with my twice-bruised ego, but I didn’t feel right about taking it from him. “There’s no need, you know.”
    “I would feel better if you took it. Please.”
    “Tell me this first. Do you feel bad because of what you did or because I saw you?”
    He didn’t hesitate. “I feel guilty for embarrassing you.”
    “And if I say I’m not embarrassed?”
    “Then I can’t say I feel guilty about any of it.”
    My mouth curved up in a smile. This was the young man I’d watched last night. Arrogant yet with a sense of righteous justification held within his stance. Now bolstered within his statement. It was enough to remove some of the bruising from my own mood.
    I took a step back and mildly wondered if I saw a part of his ego deflate. I made way for him to enter my home, however. “Joshua, why don’t you come on in and share a glass of that wine with me? I hate to drink alone if I can avoid it.”

Chapter Three
    Thoughts of whether he could see the gray strands in my scalp consumed me as we made our way into the kitchen. I also wondered what I was doing by inviting him in. So what if he was a little flirtatious? What good-looking man at his age wasn’t? If I tried to make it out to be more than that, I might make a fool of myself. Something to ponder.
    We rounded the wall where I kept eight orchids on display, those thoughts chasing me.
    “These are gorgeous,” he said. “I’m afraid I have a black thumb—anything I try to grow just withers and dies.”
    “Orchids are easy,” I replied. “You just have to know how to handle them.”
    “That could be said about any number of things.”
    “Good point.”
    I withdrew a corkscrew from one of the kitchen drawers before we’d fully ventured through the doorway. Many modern people enjoyed using one of those Rabbits to uncork a bottle, but I prefer the old-fashioned method. The only Rabbit I needed in my life was battery operated. “Take opening a bottle, for example,” I said.
    Josh took the corkscrew from me gently. “There is definitely an art in handling this task.” Fascinated, I watched him slice the foil around the cork and then dig the metal screw into the spongy plug. After a few quick twists, he pulled upward with ease, dislodging the cork.
    The amazement must have shown on my face. Wine sommeliers and connoisseurs tended to be the only people I knew of who moved with such deft confidence. “I waited tables as an undergrad,” he said with a wink. “If a table ordered wine, they tended to tip bigger. I learned how to pour a bottle properly in a hurry.”
    “I take it you’re no longer in school?” His confirmation would help me feel a little better. Despite the casual atmosphere we’d generated between us, his youth still taunted me.
    “Grad school. Almost done.”
    “That’s amazing.” And I meant it. My education didn’t go further than undergraduate schooling, despite my constantly telling myself I should return for a higher degree.
    “Oh. I’m sorry… I should have asked…”
    His sudden change of topic and subsequent confusion baffled me until I followed his line of sight. In my excitement, I’d forgotten the glass of wine sitting next to the telephone. Not far beyond it, the open bottle of wine I’d set there earlier told a story of its own. Now there were two bottles open. “Don’t worry. Good wine never goes to waste.”
    “It looks like you were going to order dinner too, though.” Joshua looked chagrined. “I can’t seem to do any of this