Page 36 of Love Among Vines

CHAPTER THIRTY

RETT

“This is wild,” Jade said in the complete darkness.

Rett squinted in her general direction. Although he could hear with unusual accuracy the scraping of forks on plates and water glasses being refilled, he couldn’t see a damn thing.

“I hope it helps. Shit.”

Clang . Something metallic clattered to the floor.

“Are you throwing your cutlery on the floor? Our poor waiter has enough stuff to do without constantly replacing your knife,” she said with a giggle.

Her foot found his under the table. They were at Blackout, a restaurant in a nearby town where visually impaired waitstaff served dinner in the dark.

“Your red, ma’am,” someone said in the darkness. Clunk . Something heavy and glass landed on the table.

“And your white, sir.” There was another clunk. “You’ll find them to the right of your plate. I suggest reaching carefully…and I’ll bring you another knife.”

A few seconds passed, and Jade moaned across the table. “Oh, god, this is good.”

At least the deep oblivion of the restaurant made it harder to see the pants tent he was pitching. Stealth boner.

“Of course it’s good. It’s a Rhodes.”

“And how’s yours? The chardonnay?”

He raised his glass and inhaled. A good bouquet—oaky, rich. A hint of vanilla.

He took a sip, and the crisp acidity hit his tongue. The darkness had leant an unusual potency to his ability to taste. Hmm. Maybe he should offer wine tastings in the dark.

“Not bad,” he admitted. “Not as good as ours, though. And twice the price.”

“Are you perpetually worried that you’re going to find another winery that outperforms yours?”

“A good vintner is always worried about performance.”

“In wine or in the bedroom?”

He choked on a sip of chardonnay and coughed. His nostrils burned. “Both.”

The night had finally arrived. With any luck, the date would remind Jade that she deserved so much more than she currently allowed herself to have. And, selfishly, he couldn’t wait to uncover the gift he had gotten her.

Snatches of conversations drifted in all around them—someone to their right was about to buy a boat, while another voice whispered about a coworker’s secret affair.

Their starter arrived, a palate-tingling mix of spicy, sweet, and savory. He stared into the darkness. Would the food help? If she could reclaim her muse, she could live anywhere. Somewhere with a lower cost of living. Somewhere like Hammondsport, even. Not that he wanted her to move here. Did he?

“Did you give any thought to your homework assignment?” an unseen Jade asked.

He knew this conversation was coming, and yet he still wasn’t prepared to answer. “I did. I have a lot of half-assed ideas about the business. The only one I’ve ever brought to fruition was the speakeasy.”

“Which is amazing, for the record.”

“I like to think so. But as for the big dream…I’m just not sure. My priority right now has to be fixing the winery. I don’t have a lot of time for dreaming.”

“Dreaming is free,” she reminded him. “I find it hard to believe that six-year-old Rett was sitting in first grade being like ‘boy, I can’t wait to make a nice red blend when I get older’ while everyone else was talking about being a doctor or a firefighter.”

His fingers tightened around his fork. “There was one other dream.”

“Do you feel comfortable sharing it?” she asked after a full thirty-second pause. Her voice was gentle, hesitant. She probably thought he was about to confess to being an aspiring serial killer.

“I haven’t told anyone about it. Not since?—”

“Twatty McCheaterFace?”

“Right.”

Her foot bumped against his under the table. “You know I would never tell anyone. All secrets are strictly protected under the Fake Relationship Clause.”

His heart beat uncomfortably fast. “I wanted to be a baker.”

Since he couldn’t see Jade’s face, he had no idea how she reacted to the news. He plunged onward.

“I was really close to going to pastry arts school instead of business school. My parents convinced me not to, so I gave up that dream. But I never gave up baking.”

Her voice was soft. “You made those apple dumplings, didn’t you?”

“I did. And the ice cream.”

“Rett.” Something clanged on the table, then she gripped his hand. Her touch was like velvet. “They were incredible. No offense, but this is the opposite of a problem.”

“It’s not like I can do anything about it. My focus needs to be on the winery.”

“Sure, but you’re the boss. You could do a special menu with wine and pastry pairings. Baking classes. Hell, just sell some baked goods in a case at your register.”

“It’s not that easy. That would mean a different license and all kinds of changes.”

She squeezed him again. “Respectfully, I’m hearing a lot of excuses. I’m sorry that it’s so hard to be good at so many things. But you are in a position to do something about it.”

“That’s not all, though. Wine has kind of become my new dream. I love it and I wouldn’t want to abandon it.”

“Okay, so why don’t you outsource some of the winery grunt work and focus on the parts you love best? That would give you more time. If you needed the extra money, you could probably sell some of your grandma’s crazy furniture.”

He tugged at his collar. The thought of publicly offering his baking made him deeply uncomfortable. The wine was one thing—it was proven, practically a chemistry experiment in a bottle. But the baking was his special secret, and his creations were far from perfect.

“We should be talking about you. You’re the one in crisis here.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.”

“Are you feeling inspired? Did this help?”

There was a beat of silence. “I was really hoping it would.”

Damn.

“Well, there’s always tomorrow.”

They chatted through their entrees—prime rib and garlic mashed potatoes with apple chutney for Jade, blackened ahi tuna and fall vegetables for him.

The fish was tender and smoky with a hint of spice, and the vegetables had a crisp snap.

It was delicious, but nothing was about to distract him from the fact that in one hour, he’d be uncorking the first bottle of sparkling wine.

If it was terrible, his financial investment was worthless. He’d either have to try again or give up and sell the equipment. Admit defeat. Find another path forward.

“Hey,” Jade said in the darkness.

“Hmm?”

“You can do this.” Her hand landed on his, soft and invisible.

He squinted in her direction. Could she see him spiraling? Shouldn’t he be reassuring her that everything was going to be fine?

“Your energy is super intense right now,” she said gently. “Do you want to go so we can try it?”

“I think so,” he admitted. “I’m sorry.”

She cleared her throat. “What do you always say to me about unnecessary apologies?”

“This was a necessary one. I didn’t mean to make this about me.”

“It’s fine. Your anxiety makes me feel a little more normal. Let’s go.”

After some fumbling in the dark, they exited the restaurant and took the road south toward Hammondsport. Jade held his free hand but her worry line was back. Now he had ruined her night with his nerves.

Maybe it had been a mistake to tie the wine to this date. He should have just tried it by himself. But for some reason, he wanted her to be there.

After a quick stop to let Penny out—thankfully she hadn’t eaten the couch—Rett crawled up the driveway to the winery.

He turned the truck off, and they sat outside in silence.

“Do you need a pep talk?” she asked.

He straightened his shoulders. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

She turned his face so he had to look at her.

“You are a gifted winemaker. Whatever is in that bottle won’t change that.

And you know what else? Nothing is ever promised.

Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Seize this moment.

Pop that cork. Bake your desserts proudly.

Have sex with the weird artist from Manhattan. ”

A startled laugh burst out of him.

He smiled and put his hand on her knee. She took his hand and slid it up her thigh. His pinky slipped back under the hem of her skirt. Heat radiated off her. Suddenly, he wasn’t so nervous.

He jumped out of the truck and opened her door for her. When he helped her out this time, he pressed her back against the door of the truck. He stared into her eyes for a moment before leaning in and kissing her deeply.

She opened her mouth and let him in, gripping the sides of his shirt and pulling him in tighter. Her leg drifted upward and he caught it, sliding his hand around to grip her ass. His fingers brushed against lace.

He had never experienced a week like this before. Endless mental and physical foreplay with no release. It was going to be all he could do to not come the second she touched him.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he pulled back.

“Soon,” he said breathlessly.

She pouted. “I’m not exaggerating when I say my blue ovaries and I will murder you.”

“It’ll be worth the wait. I hope.”

First, the wine. Then he could concentrate on every beautiful inch of that skin.

They walked hand-in-hand down the brick walkway and into the winery. He unlocked the door and held it open for her to enter, then guided her through the storeroom to the stairs.

They emerged on the roof, and he swiveled to take in her reaction.

Her mouth dropped open. Lights were strung up over a cocktail table set for two. The neck of a bottle stuck out of an ice bucket. And on the other side of the roof, a projector screen was set up in front of a pile of pillows and blankets.

“This is amazing.” She bent over to inspect the pile of blankets.

He flushed with pleasure. With any luck, a date like this would help her remember her worth. She desired and deserved love. Any man would be crazy not to sign up for the job.

But the scene wasn’t perfect yet. He strode over to the cocktail table and flipped open a Tupperware container. He set a series of small desserts on some plates while he gave her a moment to take it all in.

The unmarked bottle stared back at him, full of promise.

Or maybe failure.

No pressure.

He took a deep breath.

Jade was still inspecting the rooftop as he twisted the cork until it popped. She turned at the sound and came to stand next to him. Her gaze was soft, her demeanor gentle as he poured two glasses.

She took it from him carefully. “No matter what happens, everything is going to be okay. And for what it’s worth, I think your grandmother would be incredibly proud of all your efforts.”

He squeezed her free hand. “Let’s hope so.”

She held her glass up. “To you, Everett Ignatius Rhodes. Thank you for everything.”

“And to you, Jade—” Shit. What was her middle name? They hadn’t covered that yet.

“Alexandria,” she prompted.

“Right. And to you, Jade Alexandria Gardner. Thank you for helping me remember that there’s more to life than work.”

They clinked glasses, then both ducked their heads to inhale the aroma.

“Doesn’t smell like vinegar,” she said.

“That’s comforting.”

The bouquet was delicate and fragrant—raspberry, vanilla, and a hint of grilled bread. There was a good number of bubbles, and they were minuscule.

With eyes on each other, they raised their glasses and took a sip. Effervescence rolled over his tongue, bringing with it an acidic sting of green apple and a refreshing finish of lemon.

It was good. Maybe better than good.

Relief flooded him, and he nearly sank to his knees. It hadn’t all been for nothing. Maybe it wasn’t the best sparkling wine in the world, but it was damn good for a first try.

Would it be enough to turn things around?