Page 19 of Twin Babies For The Grump

“Alright,” I tell Adela, stepping around her and heading toward the winery itself.

“You better tell me everything about Grapefest and the plans that my father had for this brew.”

Chapter Eight

Tess

“Weshouldhavegottencats,” bemoans Marco, helping lift up another crate of corks. “All of the wineries in Italy have cats!”

“Yes, well, we aren’t in Italy, and we don’t have cats. We have dogs,” I say, uninterested in hearing his complaints. “So, we’re going to handle this with traps and bait, and hope that I don’t need to come out here with someone to handle it professionally.”

The last thing we need up here is pest control while the cameras are rolling.

It isn’t our fault. The most recent shipment of wine corks came in filled with mice. Small little field mice, pale gray and light brown in color. I would have found them adorable if they weren’t making a mess out of the corks. Chewing through them and leaving crumbs behind—and totally unsanitary to have in a place like this.

“We could get cats,” says Marco.

“Just go put that with the other crates to be sent back to the company.”

“What’s being sent back?” A familiar voice asks from behind me.

“The corks,” I answer instinctively, turning and freezing at the sight before me.

There’s Adela, with her long bell-bottom jeans and bangles, and there’s King, the man that I slept with back in San Francisco.

I’m like a deer in the headlights as I take in the strong set of his shoulders, the raised brows, and the glimmer of shock in his sharp blue eyes.

My first thought is actually, holy shit, he is still stupidly hot, but it’s instantly followed by a minor freak out that my one-night stand is somehow here at my place of employment. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Ever. What is he doing here?

“Uh,” I say, dumbly.

Adela looks amused. “This is Tess Green. She’s the acting manager.”

“Tess,” says King. He holds out his hand, smooth as butter. Turns out, he’s way better at recovering from a surprise than I am. “Owen Bale. I’m Thomas’s son.”

“Oh.” The word comes out as a squeak. What are the odds?

I take his hand, marveling at the grip and unfortunately, very busy thinking about how those thick fingers were inside of me before, and how much better they felt than my own.

Adela either doesn’t take notice of the odd atmosphere, or she simply chooses to ignore it. She continues, “Tess has been one of your father’s most trusted employees for the last year. If there’s something happening at the winery, she knows about it, and she probably knows how to fix it.”

Owen pulls his hand away. “So you would be able to tell me more about the state of this Grapefest contest.” A pause. “And the mice?”

“Corks,” I blurt out, tripping over my own tongue.

I hurry to try and get myself back under control and a bit more professional looking. I can feel the heavy blush staining my cheeks.

God, I have to look up to speak to him. “They came in with the most recent shipment of corks. It happens sometimes and it’s usually pretty easy to handle, but with the cameras all over the place… It’s just, it’s bad timing.”

Owen nods, clearly waiting for more.

He had asked two questions. What was the first one?

I turn a wide-eyed look at Adela.

“It shouldn’t affect the contest too much though,” she says, emphasis on the word contest.

Right, that’s it. I have got to get myself pulled together, or this man’s never going to take me seriously. After having gone home with him once, I can’t let that happen.

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