He got into the driver’s seat, started the truck, and patted my leg. “I’m just teasing you.”
I couldn’t remember the last time someone touched my leg like that. Normally, that would have made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I was already sitting against him, a complete stranger whom I had just hit with my car, but there was something about his demeanor that made me feel at ease, aside from the fact that he smelled strongly of alcohol. There was an overwhelmingly potent scent of wine in the air. “Have you been drinking?”
He reached down and lifted his shirt to sniff it.
“Curious Katy, the reporter who’s first on all the breaking news.” He paused and shot me a self-satisfied smirk. “I work at a winery, cutie. I was cleaning the barrels today.” He pointed his thumb out the back window of the truck. I turned and spotted three wooden wine barrels strapped into the bed of the truck.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes at myself. Really, could I embarrass myself any more today? I hadn’t even met R. J. Lawson yet, but I was ready to throw in the towel.
“Where were you headed when I hit you?”
“Just a quick run into town for supplies.”
“I thought people in California were more environmentally conscious. Aren’t these old trucks gas hogs and horrible polluters?”
Looking straight out the window, he smiled. “I converted the engine. It runs on biofuel.”
“What’s that?”
“Donut grease. Zero pollution, and I get the fuel for free from the local bakery.”
“You’re kidding?”
He just shook his head.
Chelsea was staring out the front window. When I turned to look at her, she turned as well and looked me directly in the eye. “Hey,” I said. I fully expected her to respond, but instead she nonchalantly looked away and continued gazing out the window.
“She’s like a person.”
“Yep, she’s my girl.”
I smiled at him and then he pinched my thigh.
“Hey!”
“Hey, yourself. We made it. I’ll drop you here.” He pointed out the window to a building. “There’s R.J.’s office. Don’t be too nervous, the guy’s a douche to everyone.”
I laughed. “Thanks.” He helped me out of the truck and pulled my suitcase from the back. When I reached for it, he held on to the handle. My hand landed over his, but instead of pulling it away, for some reason I held it there. I ran my fingers over his callused knuckles and then I looked up at him. He was looking right at me, squinting slightly, like he was trying to read my expression. He moved closer and then leaned in farther, wearing a small, sincere smile. When he closed the gap between us, I could feel the heat radiating from both our bodies as he bent down toward my face. I thought he has going to kiss me—and then he did, just like that, though it was just a small peck on the cheek. His fingertips rested on my other cheek. His lips lingered there for a few seconds and then I heard him inhale deeply. He pulled away a few inches and then smiled. His eyes looked roused with curiosity and something else. Desire, maybe. “I told you, don’t be nervous. It’ll be okay.” His voice was smooth.
I was completely frozen. I couldn’t have pulled away if I wanted to. My hands were tingling. I was trembling while we stood there, staring at each other for several moments. I cleared my throat and then, just above a whisper, said, “I’m so sorry for hitting you.”
He shook his head back and forth slowly, never taking his eyes off mine. “Don’t worry about it. How long are you gonna be here for?”
“Oh.” My heart started thumping like it was going to give out. Is he going to ask me out? Holy crap. “Um . . . I’ll be here until Friday at least, but . . . I have a boyfriend.”
“I was going to offer to show you around the winery in case R.J. doesn’t have the time.”
“Oh.” Yet another embarrassing moment to add to my apocalyptic day. “Well, then yes, that would be great.”
He smiled all the way to his eyes, “Okay, Katy the Reporter with a Boyfriend. I’ll see you around.” He turned to walk toward his truck.
“It’s Kate, and I’m a journalist.”
When he pulled away, he leaned out the window and waved. “Good luck, beautiful girl. You’ll do great.” My knees buckled. I braced myself against the railing outside of the building. My nerves were in overdrive, but not because of my interview with Lawson. I was feeling something I’d never felt before. And I was feeling it for a guy I had just met.
Page 4
* * *
Hyperbole
I took a moment to collect myself and take in my surroundings. All of the winery buildings were clustered at the top of the long treelined driveway. Each section looked as though it had been recently renovated. The Craftsman architecture gave the buildings a rustic, lodgelike feel. On the left, there was the bed-and-breakfast, a large three-story house with intricate stained-glass windows and a heavy oak door displaying a complex design of intertwining wooden vines. The sign outside read Together We Bring the Warmth. Even in the afternoon, with the sun blazing low in the sky, I could see an orange glow from the outdoor wall sconces and the mica path lights, which exuded a cozy friendliness. Situated to the right of the bed-and-breakfast was a smaller structure, similar in design, with a sign indicating that it housed the tasting room and restaurant. In the distance, behind the restaurant, I could see what looked like a large warehouse, which I assumed was where the wine was made, and next to it was a red barn that could have been taken right off of a Wyoming cattle ranch.