Page 112 of Love Among Vines

“Jade, this is my grandmother, Antonia.”

Jade shook her hand. “Hola, Antonia. Soy Jade.”

Antonia smiled. “Encantada!”

Tom leapt out of his Adirondack chair. A bag of wine was slung around his shoulders like a travel pillow. “Antonia!” He removed the bag and held it high. “Slap the bag. Er—what was it again, Cindy?”

Cindy joined him and drew Elena’s grandmother into a tight hug. “Golpea la bolsa.”

Antonia giggled and opened her mouth. Tom stood next to her and opened the spigot. She gulped for a few seconds, then reached over and slapped the bag. Everyone cheered. Tom set the bladder of probably lukewarm wine on the picnic table in front of her and bowed.

“So how does this work?” Jade asked.

“Antonia is now the keeper of the bag. She decides who drinks next.”

Oof. Jade definitely should have packed some Tums. She topped off Antonia’s glass of iced tea and hustled back to the grill before she could be named the next victim.

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish,” Rett said. He opened the lid of the grill and carefully inspected the burger patties inside before flipping them.

Jade took the spatula from him. “I am a woman of many mysteries.”

And by mysteries, she meant she had leaned heavily on language learning apps during her two-year artistry hiatus.

“I’ll clean these and bring them back,” she said. “Will you make sure Penny doesn’t steal anything else?”

“Of course.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Her heart staggered, and a stupid smile spread over her face.

Shit. Feelings. She needed to think of his negatives. What were they again? Emotionally unavailable. Workaholic. Family baggage.

It wasn’t helping.

Should she talk to Rett about it? But what if he shut her down and made things awkward and she lost the last week she was meant to have with him?

She scurried away in the hopes of leaving the thoughts behind. She couldn’t be falling in love with him. They had barely known each other more than a week.

Get it together, Jade. She was doing the same shit she always did, falling head over heels for someone she barely knew. Though he hadn’t explicitly said it, Rett could very well be hung up on his ex. He hadn’t made any effort to find love again after the breakup. He wasn’t willing to open his heart.

No matter what her idiot brain was telling her, she didn’t have a place here. She needed to focus on her career and the mural. She washed and dried the spatula, then cast a glance around his massive house. Maybe she’d stumble upon a deal-breaker.

A painting caught her eye. She strode over to the hallway between the living room and the stairs to the basement. The last time she was here, she swore this spot on the wall had been occupied by a generic piece of Hobby Lobby art. Now, however, her painting of Penny frolicking in the vineyard hung in its place.

Fuck.

What did it mean that he had chosen to display it?

It would force him to think about Jade and Penny every time he walked by. Did he want that? Maybe he was good at dissociating and would be able to think of it objectively. Just a cute dog in a vineyard. Nothing painful or meaningful attached to it.

Uproarious laughter trickled in from outside, and she jumped. There was no need to figure out the emotional significance of a breakthrough painting hanging in Rett’s house right now. She needed to get the damn spatula outside before the burgers transformed into charcoal.

She hustled onto the patio to see Rett kneeling in the grass next to Antonia. She held the bag at shoulder height and laughed as liquid dribbled into his mouth. He rose to his feet with a triumphant fist pump and slapped the bag. Antonia clapped her hands delightedly when he took it from her.

He turned, still holding the bag. His eyes zeroed in on Jade. He pointed at her.

“No way.” She held her hands up in front of her like she was reasoning with a madman. “I’m wielding the spatula.”

Chugging bottom-shelf wine was a surefire way to spend all of Sunday stranded in bed.

“Come on.” His eyebrows waggled. “I have ibuprofen.”

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