Page 9 of Love Among Vines

CHAPTER EIGHT

RETT

“You’re taking the day off?” Elaine’s voice was full of disbelief.

Rett frowned. “Just half of it. I made a promise to someone. Unless you think you can’t manage.”

As stressful as it would be to leave the winery on a peak day, the idea of disappointing Jade was somehow worse. He had done what he could—the shelves were fully stocked, everything was staged for the day’s tastings, all the bills had been paid.

“No, no,” she said hurriedly. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. We have plenty of people today. Molly and Rob will be in for the afternoon shift. Everything will be fine.”

“Great. I’m going to the barn. Call me if you need anything.”

Rett ducked out the front door before she could ask any questions. The idea of leaving the winery twisted his stomach. If he wasn’t there, anything could happen. But he had made a promise.

He walked through the rows, eyeballing the grapes and vines. The viticulturist had given the harvest a clean bill of health.

His phone beeped, and his heart skipped a beat. Was it Jade? It wasn’t—just Tom with a beer emoji and a question mark—but Rett’s thoughts turned to her anyway.

Their kiss was seared into his memory like a scorch mark. He hadn’t asked her permission. The kiss was instinctive. As she stood under the awning with the most rigid body posture he had ever seen, something protective deep inside him had taken over. He had claimed her on that stoop.

And it had been incredible. She was soft and warm and tasted like strawberries.

Their first contact had been an electric spark, sending shockwaves down his limbs.

He had longed to press her against the side of the restaurant, run his hands down the length of her body. Discover what hid under that dress.

But they hadn’t discussed physical boundaries. Some kissing was expected in a fake relationship. Would she be open to more?

He hadn’t felt a pull like this in eons.

The connection was instant, undeniable. It begged to be explored.

Jade was smart, funny, beautiful. A little chaotic and disorganized, sure.

But that wasn’t a deal-breaker. Especially when he counted Penny.

But in twenty-four hours, the wedding from hell would be over and they would be on a party bus bound for the city.

Unless he could convince her to stay until the anniversary event.

The doors of the barn creaked as he pushed them open.

Maybe he could ask her to consult on a label for the sparkling wine.

Their usual ad agency had thrown a tentative one together for him, but for some reason it didn’t feel right—maybe because it didn’t have an official name yet.

This wine was a labor of love decades in the making, and it deserved the perfect label and name.

She had mentioned that money was an issue, so it wouldn’t be financially responsible for her to cover her own housing.

His house had six bedrooms. She could stay in one of them.

He could make a space for her art supplies, set up an easel in the room with the best lighting.

That was what artists used, right? It wasn’t just in the movies?

And having her under his roof would make it so much easier to coach her on all the things she desperately needed to be coached on.

A career change would be infinitely better than becoming homeless.

That meant interviewing tips, networking, exploration of transferable skills.

And certainly a driver’s license. Maybe he could do some reading and see how he might bring back her muse permanently.

He didn’t put a lot of stock in the idea, but it was worth a shot.

He had whipped countless friends into shape. They always joked that he had been born an adult. Two weeks was plenty of time to set her up for success and send her back out into the world. And in the meantime, maybe she’d be open to friends with benefits.

But he was getting ahead of himself. There was no guarantee she’d stay. She seemed a tad prideful and might take offense to his offers of help. There also wasn’t a lot of wiggle room in the winery budget for outside contractors.

The memory of that kiss was outweighing all the logic though. He ached to feel her under his fingertips again, to hold her and shield her from the world that was hell-bent on destroying her.

He wouldn’t know until he tried.