Page 26 of The Criminal’s Cure

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Ty scrunches his nose at me as if I’ve just walked out in a clown suit.

Dante and Joe arrived forty-five minutes earlier than I told them to, and now all three of them are lounging on my bed for my first date with Madison.

The last thing I want is an audience, especially such a critical one, but it’s hard to say no to Ty.

“What’s wrong with this one?” I ask. He’s already nixed two outfits I tried on, and at this rate, I’m going to run out of options.

It’s not like I have a shortage. I have a designer friend who's always bringing me suit samples and display pieces she’s switched out, so it’s not that hard to piece something presentable together.

“You look like the guy from Home Depot,” Ty quips. Leave it to my son to diss Armani.

Joe slants his head at my jeans and gray v-neck tee. “He’s not wrong.”

“I think it’s perfect.” I check in the mirror one last time, reaching for my shoes. Maddie and I aren’t going on a traditional first date tonight. We both agree that that ship has sailed, so instead, I’m taking her on a bit of an excursion.

Ty lets out a long, heavy sigh and shrugs his shoulders. “Well, we tried to help.”

“Get out of here.” I chuckle, tossing a pillow at him.

Joe grin, batting it away. “Alright, alright. Come on, Ty. Let’s give your dad a little peace.”

With a few minutes to myself, I spray on some cologne and grab a leather jacket out of the closet. I doubt it meets my son’s fashion standards, but I like it.

When I reach the living room, Maddie’s already waiting for me. The rest of the house is quiet, and I don’t know where Dante, Joe, and Ty have run off to, but it’s fine because I’ve had enough unsolicited opinions for one night.

Maddie looks like a goddamn smoke show. The dress she’s wearing reveals a dangerous amount of skin, showcasing her body in all the right places.

The loose fit sways at her hips as she walks, her heels accentuating every toned muscle of those long, tanned legs.

Wild blonde curls spill down her shoulders, and her painted red lips purse as she stares at her phone.

The floral fabric hits high enough on her thigh that all I can think about is how easy it would be to lift her onto the edge of that piano, inch it up, and take her right here.

Mmm. My god.

And just like that, I’m having second thoughts about this whole thing. How am I supposed to sit across from her all night and have a normal conversation when she looks the way she does and all I can think about is getting her home?

I can’t kiss her the way I want in public. Can’t touch her the way I want. Our chaotic schedules the last few days have made it almost impossible to see each other, and I’m shamelessly desperate to taste her again. Maybe we should order something in and stay home.

I’m just about to pose the question to her when she looks up and notices that I’m standing here.

“Hi!” She smiles, an excitement sparkling in her I like I haven’t seen before. And as bad as I want to cart her back up the stairs and lay her over my bed, I want to satisfy all parts of Maddie. Mind, body, and soul. And tonight, that means taking her out for a little unadulterated fun.

The kiss she brushes across my lips leaves a question mark at the end of that thought, but I quickly force it away. This is the part of a relationship that might take some getting used to. The fluffy stuff girls love so much.

“Does this look okay? You didn’t tell me what we were doing, so I wasn’t sure what to wear…”

I give Maddie a quick glance, but I don’t dare look at her for too long. I’ve already noticed every delicious detail about her appearance tonight, and if I indulge any longer, I’ll be suffering through dinner with a hard on.

My cock definitely didn’t get the memo that we’re shooting for more than just instant shallow gratification with this one.

“It’s absolutely perfect, Maddie. You look incredible,” I say. “Did you pack a bag like I told you to?”

“I did…Are we staying somewhere tonight?”

“Nope.” I grab my keys and the small backpack she’s got by the door.

“So, why do I need a change of clothes?” She crinkles her nose at me, skeptical of what I’ve got planned.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.” I smirk, grabbing her hand.

I pretend not to notice when she pouts those full lips at me, because that look might just do me in.

We say a quick goodbye to Ty and the guys, and then I lead her to the truck and she climbs in.

“Would this be a bad time to tell you I’m allergic to coconuts?”

“Not at all.” I rev the engine and pull out of the garage. “I already knew that, so we’re having a coconut-free evening.”

“How did you...” Maddie’s eyes narrow as she connects the dots “Oh right. The background check.”

“To be fair, I ran a background check on you because I was about to hire you as an employee, not because I was interested in you. I had to know you were a good person.”

“Wow,” Maddie quips. “You say that with such a straight face, it’s almost like you believe it.”

I can’t exactly argue with that. There wasn’t anything that scan would have flagged that would have deterred me from her. She could be an FBI informant and I probably still would have been interested.

“Okay, fine.” I chuckle. “Tonight, I promise to answer all of your questions with a hundred percent honesty.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Anything you want to ask?” I might regret the offer, but Maddie deserves full transparency. There’s a lot about me and the life I live that is dangerous, and if this is going to go any farther, she needs to be aware of it.

She turns to me, leaning her head against the back of the seat with a gentle smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a bit of a drive out to the winery, but the conversation comes easily with Maddie.

We commiserate about being the youngest siblings and what it was like growing up with older brothers, although our experiences were a bit different.

Just as I expected, Maddie was the perfect child, following every rule and never getting into much trouble.

I, on the other hand, spent the better part of my elementary career in the principal’s office or suspended.

When I passed the exit to the strip, confusion flickers in Maddie’s eyes. “We’re not going to the Strip?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “I hate the Strip, actually. It feels overdone. I hope you don’t mind that I picked something a little different for us tonight.”

“Now I’m even more intrigued.”

We drive for a bit longer before I pull into the parking lot at the Vineyard. Right away, Maddie’s eyes light up as I help her out of the truck.

“Oh, wow!” she marvels, looking out over the valley.

We arrive at sunset, and there aren’t many things as beautiful as seeing the sun sink down over the mountains and rolling hills of grapevines.

The only thing I can think of that’s more beautiful is watching Maddie take in the pinks and oranges of the sky reflecting in her eyes.

Fuck. I am down bad for this girl.

“This is amazing.” She beams, a megawatt smile on her face. “What is this place?”

“It’s called Abbiocco. It’s one of the oldest wineries in all of Nevada,” I boast, slipping the keys into my pocket and taking her hand.

“It’s hard to believe that something like this even exists in Nevada. It’s so dry.”

“Actually, this is the perfect climate for grapes. We’re just far enough out of the desert area and close to the mountains. The grapes can’t handle harsh winters, and if they’re in too high of humidity, that can kill them off, too. This area is actually the perfect balance.”

Madison smiles, clearly impressed. “You sure know a lot about grapes.”

“I should.” I laugh, leading her up the winding path to the entrance. “This is my vineyard.”

“Y-your vineyard?”

“Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”

I need to stop trying to figure Roman out. Just when I think I have a bit of a handle on him, he does something like whisk me off to a vineyard and winery… that he owns .

What?

“Roman, wait up.” I walk quickly to catch up to him as he climbs the stairs. “You really own this place?”

He nods. “It’s kind of a side project.”

I almost laugh out loud. A side project? For most people, a side project involves rebuilding a car engine or sewing a quilt. Not sustaining an entire vineyard that, according to the sign out front, is over a hundred years old.

Following Roman inside, I can hardly believe my eyes. It’s not just a vineyard. Cobblestone walls house a full restaurant, a teaching kitchen, a tasting area, and a store. It feels like I’ve been transported to Italy with its delicious smells, upbeat music, and extravagant decor.

We wind through the main area to a door towards the back, out of the commotion where it’s a little quieter.

“How do you feel about getting a little dirty?” Roman winks.

“Uh…” His question catches me completely off guard. “I guess it depends what you mean by that.”

Roman gestures to the sign next to his head.

Grape Stomping .

“What?” I can’t help but laugh. “We’re really going to do that?”

“If you want to!” Roman nods. “It’s an Italian rite of passage. Everyone has to try out at least once.”

He tosses our bags into a nearby locker and starts to untie his sneakers. “What do you think?”

“I love it. This is so cool.”

This is about the very last thing I expected Roman to choose for our date tonight, but he continues to surprise me.

“Mr. Molanari.” A man approaches and introduces himself as one of the stomping room attendants. “Everything is all set up for you guys. And Jen is waiting for you in the barrel room once you finish up here.”

“Thank you Stephen.” Roman shakes his hand. “This is Madison. It’s her first time here.”

Stephen smiles. “Welcome! Ever been grape stomping before?”

“Never.”

“Well, you’re in great hands with Mr. Molanari. Let me know if you guys need anything else.”

Following suit with Roman, I take my shoes off and put them in our locker.

There are two sets of stairs leading to a big wooden platform. Flanking the structure are two large holes, each positioned over a plastic-lined wine barrel.

“So we really just stomp on them?” I ask as he leads me up the steps.

“Yep.” He nods, rolling my pants up a bit. The grin on his face is adorable. “Get your feet all up in there.”

“Isn’t that a little unsanitary?”

“Dr. Taylor, the germaphobe,” he teases with a smirk.

“Stomping is more about the experience. Although when it ferments, all the bacteria gets killed off, anyway. The juice we use for our wine comes from a mechanical crushing system, and it has to sit for a few weeks, so the process takes more time than we’ve got tonight. ”

“I see,” I say. “Well, what are we waiting for, then?”