Page 23 of Rock the Chardonnay

Sex with Josie had always been fun, but never like that. I definitely never said half the shit that had fallen out of my mouth with Daughtry. I don’t even know where any of that came from.

But it was our one time.

My mom waves her hand in front of my face and I jump back to the present. “Earth to Declan. You okay?”

I snap to attention. “Yeah. All set for the day. The wine and stuff is in the truck already.”

Alex lifts his headphones from his ears and stares directly at me. “Don’t forget you promised that Daughtry could introduce me to the Vendetta today.”

Shit. I completely forgot. “I don’t know if she remembers.” Keeping my distance from her is the one thought I have to prevent me from making an ass of myself and tracking her down.

“She will,” Alex says simply, then puts his headphones back on and devours half his toast in one bite.

Mom sips her coffee. “Call me if you need help. I’ll be over around four to take over the tent so you can enjoy yourself.”

“Great. What’s Ciaran up to?” I can see his SUV in the driveway, parked at an angle beside mine. It’s going to be hell getting in the driver’s side of my truck. I mentally bang the door against his SUV a few times, and a small feeling of satisfaction settles over me.

She shrugs. “He came in late last night. I haven’t seen him yet today, but I think he said something about the medical tent.”

“Far be it for him to inform us of his plans. Is he ever going back to his own house?”

Mom shrugs. “I’ll never kick either of my children out of this house. You moved home when you and Josie split to help me and your dad out, and I appreciate it. But we still want all of you to live your own lives. Maybe you should look at moving out, spreading your wings at some point.”

An alarm pings on my phone. “We’re late. Alex, let’s go.”

The next three minutes are a flurry of running to the bathroom, complaints he cannot find his shoes despite them being right there under his backpack, and me sloshing coffee all over myself.

Wonderful. There is no way I’m showing up at the festival with coffee stains all down my shirt.

I run to the laundry room. I remove my dirty Foster Family Vineyard polo and dump it in the hamper, then grab a fresh one from the stack.

Running back into the front hall, I slide the polo over my forearms and then freeze in my tracks.

Daughtry stands in the open front door beside my mom. Today she has on a rockabilly-style dress with large pink polka dots, black mesh gloves like a Madonna tribute, and gray chunky-heeled sandals with tarnished bronze buckles on them. Her pink hair is up in a messy bun, free tendrils escaping around her face. Her amused hazel eyes flick down my shirtless torso, a hint of a smile playing around her mouth.

And like the douchiest of douches, all I can think of is flipping up that skirt and calling her good girl again.

“Hon,” my mom says, her expression all innocence. “Put a darn shirt on. Did I forget to mention that I volunteered you to drive Daughtry into town? We need good reviews, since she’s our first guest, so you know we need to go the extra mile.” She chuckles and elbows Daughtry, who smiles in a good-natured way. “Hah. Literally.”

My hands are handcuffed by my polo shirt, or I might have strangled my beloved mother. “Sure. Town. No problem.”

CHAPTER 12

Daughtry

Declan is sneaky buff. I assumed, since he basically held me up while he fucked me last night, but I had no idea he was hiding a six pack behind those polo shirts. It’s enough to make me tingle all over.

I’ve been tingling all night.

He drives along the streets of St. Olaf like if he glances away from the road, he might explode into a glitter volcano.

Alex, who is sitting in the backseat, taps me on my shoulder. “I like your music, Daughtry. Dad bought me your album. ‘Chemistry’ is my favorite so far.”

I look back at him. “Mine, too. Love your eye shadow, by the way. That color is fab.”

“Thanks. Dad takes me to Sephora and I can use my allowance to get whatever I want.” Alex puts his headphones back on and rests in the backseat, humming along to my songs.

“That’s the dream,” I say, snuggling into the passenger seat.

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