I glance at the bottle in my hand. I know zilch about wine. The best I can hope for is that the dude at the liquor store didn't steer me in the wrong direction by recommending this particular brand.
As I reach out to ring the bell for a second time, Gia opens the door. The breath gets knocked from my lungs as our gazes collide. It's like this every damn time.
I take her in, starting at the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Tonight, she's left her inky black hair long and loose. It cascades in glossy waves past her shoulders. It reminds me of the first night I saw her at O'Brien's.
I'm considering the merits of dropping to my knees and thanking whoever designed the sweater she's wearing because it hugs her body in all the right places as it showcases the amazing curves of her breasts, making them look even softer than I remembered.