Page 30 of Christmas Home

I thought quickly. I knew I’d said we needed a chaperone, but wasn’t I just being silly? Ruther walked with me almost every night. It wasn’t like I was going to jump him in public, although I also knew I wanted him more now than I did before.

“No, let him be. Unless he wants to come, we can let your chaperone sit this one out. Besides, won’t someone be there to keep us in check?” I asked and winked, not knowing where my confidence came from all of a sudden.

Ruther laughed. “He won’t even remember our plans. When that man gets a new project in his head, he has a hard time letting it go. Let’s go. I can’t wait for you to try the wine.”

I followed him out of the condo and through the hotel lobby. Catherine, a woman I’d only met once, when she and her son, Dr. Allen, came to the café for dinner with Dr. Ash and his kids, met us at the counter.

“So, you’re interested in our wine tasting. Lance mentioned you’ve already been to the winery,” she said, and Ruther nodded.

“But Clyde hasn’t, and this is my treat.”

She smiled, and I didn’t see condescension on her face. In fact, she was smiling in a welcoming way, but some internal bullshit made me feel uncomfortable, like maybe I was doing some type ofPretty Womanthing.

“Come in and sit down,” Catherine said, leading us to a little wine bar area. It all seemed like a big fuss for something as simple as drinking wine. I was immediately embarrassed that I had no idea what actually happened at a wine tasting.

I watched as Ruther swirled his glass and sniffed the contents, cocking my eyebrow before I even knew I’d done it. When he glanced my way, he laughed. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. Have you done a wine tasting before?” I shook my head, though my blush was probably answer enough. He looked at me kindly, though. “Let me show you then.”

The smile never left Ruther’s face as he showed me how to swirl and smell, then told me what he smelled in the glass. I looked over at Catherine, who nodded approval, to make sure I wasn’t having my leg pulled.

“Okay,” I said and followed his lead.

“Now, what do you smell?” he asked.

I bit back the comment on the tip of my tongue that I smelled wine. Instead, I focused on what he’d said earlier. “I don’t know, maybe some kind of fruit?” I asked.

“What kind?” he prodded, and I sniffed again, shrugging when nothing came to mind.

“It helps if you close your eyes,” Catherine said, and I quickly looked over to see if she was making fun of me. Clearly, she was just being helpful.

I closed my eyes and sniffed, and this time, I thought I smelled cherries and said as much.

“That’s right, dark cherries, and I can also smell oak. That comes from the barrels it was aged in.”

“I can smell that, yeah,” I said, getting into it. “It also smells a little smoky, which is odd, right? It shouldn’t be smoky.”

Both Catherine and Ruther chuckled, automatically putting my back up. “No, it’s a good thing,” he said. “The winemaker would want that to be part of the experience.”

I nodded, trying not to appear as awkward as I felt. “Now, you taste it,” Ruther said, closing his eyes as he took a drink.

I did the same thing, and although the flavor was good, I didn’t quite get why there was such a fuss over what was just wine.Sure, even I could tell it was better than anything I’d bought in the discount aisle of the grocery store, but was it worth all this? I doubted it.

“What did you taste?” Catherine asked.

I shrugged. “Not much, really.”

“Okay, so this is going to feel strange, but bear with us,” Catherine instructed, pulling out a glass from below the bar. “Sometimes you need oxygen in your mouth to catch all the flavors. It’s terrible manners, especially down here where people are still worried about such things, but when you drink, let air into your mouth before swallowing.” Then she demonstrated how to do it, and Ruther did the same.

“Yeah, that’s weird,” I said. “I hate to tell you both, but I might be out of my element here.”

Catherine laughed. “Dear, everyone is out of their element when it comes to wine at some point or another, but if you aren’t comfortable—”

“No, it’s not that,” I said, knowing this was something special Ruther was trying to do for me. “Okay, show me again. I don’t want to end up spitting wine all over my shirt.” I knew from experience that getting a stain out of light-colored clothes was a pain in the ass.

They both showed me one more time. I tried it, and, to my surprise, I actually did taste some of the flavors I’d smelled earlier. “Wow, okay, I thought you were just putting me on, but I taste more flavors now.”

Catherine winked at me. “We’ll turn you into a wine snob before you know it,” she said, putting the bottle on the counter.

She opened another bottle and did the same thing again, and I ended up laughing with them as they prompted me about the flavors. I was feeling the effects of drinking too much wine when we were done, and Catherine pushed a bowl of pretzels toward me and instructed me to eat a few.

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