Page 9 of Rock the Chardonnay

But I’m not one to linger.

“Hey, Declan,” I say. Do I pop my chest out a little bit? Maybe. I have a back ache.

His eyes widen and he drops the box of wine, a little too heavily on the ground. It seems okay. No telltale signs of leaking grape juice. Then again, what do I know? “Daughtry? Is that you?”

Has it really been twelve years? He looks just as good as the last time I saw him, at Ciaran and my high school graduation. He is tall and rangy. He has dark brown hair that is longer on top than the sides, and these cyan-colored eyes that flit from dark as a stormy lake to bright summer sky. He has mood eyes, Declan Foster does.

“Hey, stranger.”My entire body is restless, like there are fire ants crawling along my skin. As much as my head screams run, my itchy feet are planted firmly on the ground.

Screw it. I ignore convention, leap over the tasting table, and wrap my arms around Declan.

Mistake. Declan smells like cherries and fresh linen and clean summer air. And the hug he gives me? It takes him a moment of hesitation, but when his arms enclose me, it feels a lot like security. Comfort.

I release a breath that feels about twelve years old.

This is very dangerous. The pull of him here is so strong, and holding him floods me with memories.

Mentally, I reinforce all my inner walls, but the mortar I typically use isn’t sticking when Declan holds me like this. I need a new plan and quick.

But…cherries.

“Dad?” Alex says behind us. “Who is she?”

“Oh.” Declan steps away from me, a flush running up his pale, untanned neck. He’s let his five o’clock shadow grow so it covers his cheeks in a sexy unkempt way, like a GQ model.

Sexy? No. Not sexy. Devastating.

A warm puddle of want collects inside my belly. While I normally keep my emotions tightly behind lock and key à la Fort Knox, if I spend more time with Declan, I’ll need to upgrade to Vegas casino-level security.

He puts at least two feet between us, an impressive thing given that the entire tent isn’t that wide. “Alex, this is Daughtry. She dated your uncle Ciaran their senior year of high school.”

A thousand things click into place. Of course Alex isn’t Ciaran’s. I knew Ciaran doesn’t have a paternal bone in his body. Now that I look past the blond hair, I see Declan in Alex’s eyes, in his posture.

“You’re not telling the whole story.” I turn to Alex, who seems moderately more interested in me now. “One night, even though your dad was studying for midterms, he made me the world’s best pancakes.”

“My dad does make really good pancakes. He says it’s all in the mix.” Alex glances between the two of us for a moment before he catches sight of my performer badge. Hugging Declan dislodged it from behind my tank top. “Shit, you’re Daughtry Sutcliffe!”

“Alex, don’t swear,” Declan says, as if this is an automated response. It’s fricking adorable.

“But Dad!” Alex has a little vocal fry that he uses to great effect. I respect him for it. “You told me you ‘sort of knew her.’ You didn’t tell me you made her pancakes.”

Declan turns to the box of wine and starts unpacking the bottles without reading the labels. He’s so fucking cute when he’s flustered. That hasn’t changed at all. “They were just pancakes.”

“World’s best pancakes.” I lean my butt against the tasting table, now fully enjoying myself. With Declan kneeling on the ground beside the box, I appreciate the tone of his muscles, visible underneath his polo shirt. He’s always been built, but age has settled well on him. “And we were friends. Your dad tutored me so I didn’t fail chemistry in high school.”

“You were never going to fail,” Declan grumbles. He unpacks the box completely, and this seems only to distress him. Not looking at me, he picks up a box of wine glasses and starts setting them on the table. “You’re too smart for that. You just needed to catch up a bit. Your last school was on a different track from ours.”

Alex and I each take some of the glasses and set them up in a triangle shape on the other end of the table. “My dad teaches chemistry now,” he says to me. “At the high school.”

“I’ll bet he’s voted best teacher every year.” And sexiest, not that I want to contemplate a gaggle of teens drooling over him. He has this whole lanky nerdy vibe going on. It’s working for him.

“Pretty much.” Alex shrugs. “So do you know the Vendetta?”

“Of course,” I say. “I’m opening for them. It’s the only reason I’m here. They’re the coolest people.”

Declan pulls on a leaf of the cardboard box, tearing it off with a flourish. He drops it, like ripping apart the box had not been his intention. “It’s good to see you, Daughtry, but we have work to do. I’m sure you’re busy, too.”

I blow out a large puff of air, displacing my bangs into a little cascade of hair. “I have nowhere to go. The apartment they rented for me fell through and every other place was booked. It’s me in the rental car. No big. I’ve done it before. Besides.” I pull my hair onto my head in a loose messy bun. “I can’t leave before you tell me if you like the pink, Declan. It’s new.”

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