Page 123 of Love Among Vines

Rett smiled, and joy shone out from those infuriating eyes.

“You want to stay?” he asked.

“Yes. There’s a lot to figure out?—”

He silenced her with a tender kiss. Unlike their feral lovemaking earlier, this time he held her like she was made of glass.

“We’ll worry about that later,” he said when he pulled away. “For now, this is enough.”

“This is enough,” she repeated. The overwhelming weight of terror was being replaced by something else. The air was full of possibility.

Her heart was galloping. But she barely noticed. Her body was buzzing from head to toe like she had been dipped in a vat of liquid gold laced with Novocain. She was alive, flowers in every color bursting forth from her skin.

She gripped his hands.

“Rett.”

“Yes?” He looked concerned.

“I need to paint.”

“Come with me.”

He led her to a room she hadn’t yet visited on the far side of the house. It must have been his home gym at one point. Some dumbbells and weights were piled in one corner of the room, but in front of the window were two easels, a massive pile of canvases, and a workbench littered with all the different paints and tools of creation he had acquired.

“How did you?—”

“I wanted to have something put together just in case. Do you think it’s back?”

Her eyes fell on his, but her fingers itched to touch paint. “I think it is.”

She threw herself on him and kissed him hard. He held onto her a beat longer after she pulled back.

For a second, they just looked at each other. She had so much to be grateful for. So much to thank this grumpy, practical,winemaking sex god for. Coming to the stupid, ill-fated wedding had completely changed the trajectory of her life.

Now she just needed to see if she still had it in her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Go.” He pointed at the canvas.

Jade considered the tools in front of her. She grabbed the easiest thing—acrylic paint—and placed dots on a palette. There was no plan in her head, no blossoming internal picture. Instead, she trusted her intuition and picked up a brush.

Brushstrokes skimmed across the page. Red, then yellow, then orange. The colors of Hammondsport blossomed on the canvas. In the midst of it all was the stone chapel, standing sentry on the hill.

Visions poured out of her, guiding her hands. She wasn’t in charge anymore as they glided over the surface, adding a brick here, a falling leaf there. A blue sky with a bright sun, tinges of green still lingering on some trees.

She barely glanced at it before running across the room and propping it against the wall.

Rett appeared silently beside her with a series of water glasses. She could have kissed him, but there wasn’t time. She dunked her brushes and picked up a new palette. More green in this one, with pops of turquoise and yellow.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had rendered Margie’s Café in miniature. It joined the chapel against the wall. Next came Cindy and Tom’s house with a manicured lawn and fiery maple tree.

Her hand cramped, and she flexed her fingers while staring at her creations. The story of the past week was spreading out in front of her. But she wasn’t done.

She closed her eyes and conjured up an image of Rhodes Vineyard. A deep sense of calm filled her, and she went back to the paints. Lush green vines. Rough-cut stone, a stamped-concrete patio. Two people in the front window—Elaine and Todd. The cars of her new friends in the parking lot.

Next was an abstract painting, a tipped-over wine bottle bleeding words written in glitter. A rumpled satin bridesmaid dress on the floor.

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