Merrick Merlot

“You can set your coat right there.” He motioned towards the hunter green velvet couch. His voice only managed to disrupt my thoughts as I stood enamored by the crackling of the fireplace. The aroma coming from the kitchen was enough to convince me to stay.

“Don’t you have a coat closet or something?” I responded, clenching the cheetah print peacoat close to me.

“Too good for a couch?” He chuckled, scratching his beard as he leaned against the island in the kitchen, staring at me from across the room. The cream sweater he wore accentuated his skin, a deep mahogany brown.

“Would it matter if I was?” I rolled my eyes, still glancing around the room, looking for indications of a coat closet.

“At least you’re the same in person as you are on facetime.” His shoulders rolled back.

“You should just be celebrating that your work meeting didn’t cause you to miss your second shot; otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing in your living room right now,” I smirked, giving in and tossing my coat on the couch, revealing the black slip dress I had selected for the evening. His eyes glinted before returning back to my gaze.

“Is that a hint of privilege in your voice? Not all of us were in the first round of vaccinations. In addition to that, I still think you would’ve come tonight.” Lust danced in his voice, and I couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“No privilege, just happy to know I’ve been spending my time getting to know someone responsible.” I teased and found my spot on the couch, my black braided stiletto mules sliding across the floor.

“Would you like something to drink?” he offered, his voice echoing off the walls leading him towards the marble bar cart.

“I’m not really into hard liquor all that much,” I called back, swooping a loose curl out of my face and tucking it behind my ear.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind, especially with the Waygu, asparagus, and truffle potatoes. I pegged you for a posing sommelier anyways.” He walked past the bar cart to a door built into the stone wall on the side of his kitchen. As he slid the door back, it revealed a cellar. “Care to pick with me?” I stood in excitement and danced over to follow him. Once inside, the copious amounts of bottles unraveled in front of me.

“And I’m the posing sommelier? There has to be over two-hundred bottles of wine in here.” I stood in awe.

“I’m well-traveled, and everyone knows you need a good wine with a good meal. Now, what are we thinking? A Syrah? Traditional Cab? Merlot?”

“You tell me, Merrick, what do you think?” I stood, arms folded, and stared.

“Mmm, okay, okay, let me see, Lennox,” his voice was smooth. He studied me from head to toe, licking his lips along the way. My cheeks flushed, but I kept my eyes focused on his.

“Tick, tock, tick, tock, the food is getting cold.” I shot back.

“You’ve never had Shiraz. You think Cab is too predictable, and as much as you hate to admit it, nothing gets you there like Merlot.” He stepped towards a particular bottle and pulled it down, pivoted, and walked directly towards me. “You think having such an affinity for it makes you basic when in reality, there is absolutely nothing wrong with going with something that you know performs well every time. You don’t have time to play games, and so it makes sense that you would select a wine that delivers in any circumstance. A wine that’s adaptable and is there to serve you in any way possible.” When the final words left his mouth, his chest was almost pressed directly against mine.

“For some odd reason, I’m not sure we’re talking about the Merlot anymore,” I responded so softly; the lack of distance between us was the only reason he could hear me.

“What else would we be discussing?” The hints of hazel in his eyes glinted once more before his alabaster white smile revealed itself in the depths of his beard. He extended his empty hand to me, and I took it as he escorted me out of the cellar, bottle of Merlot in the other hand.

It was the first time I was comfortably intimidated on a date, a flirtatious hushed. He made me the right kind of nervous, and it had been that way for the past two months we spent chatting. Merrick and I had met in the most roundabout way. Allow me to set the scene. It’s pouring rain, and there I am, working for a grocery delivery service attempting to make some extra cash to pay off my nursing school loans when I receive a rather large order for Straubs. Thinking nothing of it, I take it and prepare to deliver the groceries to one of most expensive neighborhoods in St. Louis, Ladue.

As my Kia pulled into the driveway, I stared at the beautiful home for what seemed like forever. As fate would have it, my lingering voided the contact-free delivery promised with our services and a luxury SUV pulled directly behind me. As I prepared myself to apologize to the husband and wife, I imagined owned this home for my lingering, out of the SUV exited (what I presumed to be behind his mask) one of the most handsome men I had ever encountered, no ring in sight. He stepped towards me, introduced himself, held an umbrella, helped me unload the groceries, and then tipped me graciously. And just as I was about to leave, he chased me down the stairs and asked if he could have my number, you know, if he ever needed his groceries delivered again.

And now here we were, sitting at his acrylic dining table, dinner plated to perfection, staring each other down between bites.

“How has work been?” I asked, slicing another piece of steak and sliding the buttery remnants into my mouth.

“The bills are paid. That’s ultimately my concern. I’m working on a strategic plan for a larger project plane coming up, and so that’s taking most of my time.”

“If you like planes so much, why didn’t you just become a pilot?”

“It was never planes for me; it was being able to create things in any capacity. That and I have just always been a STEM kid. What about you? How did Nursing occur?”

“Nurses don’t get as much recognition as the Doctor, but arguably do more work.” I rolled my eyes up into my head.

“What is your obsession with proving people wrong?” He asked. I choked, taking the glass of Merlot into my hand and swallowing a bigger gulp than suggested from my previous etiquette classes.

“I think obsession is a stronger word choice. I’m just always up for a challenge in any capacity.” I shot back. The smile I favored reappeared as he adjusted the napkin on his oxblood pants. Suddenly all things colored red in the room had my attention.

Before long, we had finished our dinner and were spread out on the couch, we had opened another bottle of the same wine and now accompanied it with a chocolate mousse shared between the two of us. His speaker shuffled through Neo soul and R&B. My shoes had found their way on the side of the couch, and I had wrapped my lower half in a grey throw I found tucked in an ottoman at the end of the sofa. Making himself comfortable, he scooted closer and pulled my throw-covered calves onto his lap, tracing figure eights in the bottom of my feet with his index fingers.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked gently, and the energy shifted.

“Yes, of course, it’s only fair. I’ve asked you close to a hundred in the past two hours.” He sipped the last of his glass and set it on the coffee table.

“What provoked you to ask for my number?” I nervously traced my finger around the rim of the wine glass.

“I couldn’t tell you. Maybe it was the immediate aura you gave off or the calm demeanor. You weren’t looking for anything from me, and I was in a position, or at least felt like I was in a position where everyone else was. I think I told you, but before purchasing this house a year ago, I called off an engagement. I’ve cut off family members, I’m just entering a stage of peace, and for some reason, I just felt like you were too.” His eye contact was both promising and dangerous. I leaned forward only a bit, hoping he would capture what I was initiating. Immediately he sat up and leaned forward.

“Not to mention,” he continued, “You are one of the most attractive women I have encountered in this life.” He paused, sliding my legs off of him and pulling me close. I clenched onto my glass, moving it just enough so that it wasn’t in the way. He used his fingers to lift my chin, “In a mask,” he landed the first kiss, his lips soft like 80,000 thread count sheets. “Out of a mask,” another, “In this dress,” and another, he slid the spaghetti straps down, and the crackle of the fireplace intensified. “Out of it.” He finished, and we continued, our lips pressing against the other’s again and again, the friction between us rising. I waved my hand around with my eyes closed, hoping the glass landed on the table. When it did, I used my now free hand to pull his face to mine, daring him to move. I had waited for two months to know how this man kissed, and no matter how many times I played it in my head, I could’ve never fathomed his lips would feel this way. Entangled in our engagement, the only thing that could stop us was the significance of the strap of my dress popping so fiercely it snapped at both my shoulder and his. We paused, chuckled, and then sat back.

“Should we stop?” He asked calmly.

“I think for the safety of all feelings involved; it might be best. That and I uh, don’t have anything else to wear.” I laughed, attempting to salvage what was left of my strap.

“I’m good with that. Would you like to stay in one of the guest rooms, or should I call my driver to take you home? Naturally, I would, but considering wine isn’t the only thing I’ve been drinking, it may be safe to err on the side of caution.”

“I appreciate the offer, and as much as I want to stay, I think I have a pretty good idea of what we would get into.”

“Understood, give me just a minute. Also, let me grab you an extra shirt.” He stepped away, and I began to collect my things.

The following day, I awoke with him on my mind. Childishly, I had slept in the cashmere shirt that smelt deeply of his cologne and the Jo Malone candle he had burning when I walked in. He was so pleasantly unexpected. As I sat up in the bed of my loft with erotic thoughts of Merrick, the ring doorbell notified me that someone had dropped something off at my door. I glanced at the time, 10:12 AM. Puzzled, I made my way to the door to find a matte black box wrapped in an oxblood burgundy bow. I pulled the semi-weighted box inside and plucked the card off of it.

In hopes that there is a second date. My peace offering.

- Merrick

Impatiently, I tore the box open, and a smile spread across my face. In the box sat two bottles of the wine we shared, and underneath it, a replacement silk dress almost identical to the one I wore.

There most definitely would be a second date.