"A little," Stella had responded to his question about being nervous. "It's been a while since I've been on an actual date in a while." She wouldn't say it outright then and there, but in the past Stella had never really dated. You don't become a writer on sex if you're not having it...a lot of it...yourself. Most of her past was for source material for her articles. For her Mason was different. She wanted to take it somewhat slow with him....see where it could go. She didn't want to lose interest in him.
It was so sweet how he had ushered her to the table she had set and took over with serving the food. Butterflies stirred like crazy in her stomach...a feeling she'd really never felt before, either. "Thank you! Yes, it's from scratch. My grandmother's recipe. She came her from Sicily with my grandfather during World War Two."
Stella had grabbed the bottle of wine before he had brought her to the table to sit. She was thankful she had set the bottle opener on the table earlier. As she spoke, she used it to open the bottle of wine and pour the glasses from where she sat.