Page 7 of A Taste of Chardonnay

Death shot from her eyes and went straight for me. “Don’t call me baby.”

“Sorry.” I held my hands up. “She-devil.”

Her eyes widened. And if Franc didn’t step in between us, I imagined I’d be wearing the rest of her Merlot.

Franc’s shoulders slumped. “Will there ever be a day where you two aren’t at each other’s throats?”

“No!” we both said in unison, eyes locking over Franc once again.

“Well, at least they agree on something,” Nero said.

“Who’s ready for cake?” Lainey called from the table, where she placed one of her masterpieces. I hated most get-togethers, but if Lainey was bringing cake, I could tolerate them.

Mr. Grasso raised his hand, and Gio, with Sally in his arms, ran across the lawn to be first in line. Franc and Nero headed toward the table, and I was about to follow, but Chardonnay’s up and down glance of me stopped me.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing, just nice of you to dress for the occasion.”

I looked down at my carpenter pants with brown splotches from when I stained my deck. They were my favorite pair of pants. They were broken in and might as well have been sweats. I wasn’t about to stop wearing them because of a few stains. My eyes darted to her, and I dragged my gaze over Chardonnay’s typical uptight dress pants and tucked in button-up shirt.

“And what board meeting did you just come from?”

“Better than looking like I spent my day rolling around in the dump.”

“Jealous?”

She scoffed. “Of you?”

“I think you are.”

“I think you’re delusional.”

“Don’t you ever just want to kick off the heels and walk barefoot in the grass? Throw away your iron? Take the stick out of your ass?”

Her eyes narrowed in the way they do when she’s about to light me up. Her rebuttals were brutal, but I prided myself on the fact I could always get them out of her, unlike anyone else.

“I don’t have a stick in my ass, but I do have a pain in my ass, and it’s been there for twenty years.”

“Longest relationship you’ve had.”

Chardonnay had only dated a handful of men in her life. She always put her work first, and most men were intimidated by her strong independence.

Her lip curled, and I had to bite away my smile. She was about to go nuclear, and I was ready for it. Her mouth parted, and I could see the lashing her tongue was gearing up for. I crossed my arms, and a cocky satisfaction spread through me as her gaze lingered on my bicep before quickly snapping away.

“Do you two want cake?” Lainey called to us. “It’s apple spice with a maple buttercream.”

Chardonnay’s eyes met mine, challenging me to be the first to back down. After twenty years, I’d think she’d know me better.

“Are you having a staring contest?” Gio asked, running up to us. “Did you know that bearded dragons have a third eyelid?”

Chardonnay’s jaw clenched, and I broke free from her dark brown eyes.

Gio’s head tilted up at us, buttercream frosting all over the edges of his mouth. “I did, buddy.” I patted Gio’s shoulder. “It’s called a nictitating membrane.”

“How the hell did you know that?” she asked, and Gio gasped.

“You said hell.”

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