Page 126 of Love Among Vines

The bird cannon went off, and Penny panicked.

Jade cried out as Penny bolted for the nearest cover—the bed of Rett’s truck.

“Penny! Knock it off!” She didn’t have the energy to wrangle the startled retriever. But Penny, who had not biked six miles of hills, was more than equipped to drag her mom across the parking lot.

She leapt into the back of Rett’s truck and crouched down, quivering.

“What’s going on?” Rett called.

Jade turned. He was walking toward them, sleeves of his button-down rolled up to expose his forearms. Even though she was delirious from lack of sleep and probably looked like she had just crawled out of a swimming pool, something in her stirred at the sight of him. Not even just lust. Full-on, heart-staggering love.

Rett, on the other hand, looked none the worse for wear. How was it possible that he looked like he had just wandered off the set of a photoshoot forVintner Monthly?

“I thought maybe you could use some help. Apparently Penny had other plans.” She gestured to the dog, who was still hiding in the truck bed.

He pulled something out of his pocket and waggled it in Penny’s direction. She approached cautiously, like she expected the treat to explode. Finally, after two more Milk Bones, she jumped down.

“Let’s get her inside before the cannon goes off again,” he said with a glance at his watch.

He slung an arm over Jade’s shoulder and pulled her in for a kiss.

“I’m so proud of you. I went home and looked at your paintings over lunch. They’re incredible.”

Her cheeks grew hot. “They still need some touch-ups. But it was nice to finally feel it again. Maybe everything’s not lost.”

“Have you talked to the gallery?”

She shook her head. “I emailed my rep, but she hasn’t responded.” Her insides twisted again. She hadn’t heard from them for a year. They had moved on to other artists who weren’t constipated. But there was no harm in trying.

He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. They’ll respond. And if they don’t, I’ll just buy them all.”

“Ha-ha. You couldn’t afford me,” she said breezily and entered through the door he held open for her. It was a lie. But the support was nice.

The winery was warm and welcoming as always. A small fire crackled in the hearth. Three groups were in the tasting room, rapt with attention as Elaine, her husband, and someone she hadn’t met yet explained the complexities of what they were tasting.

Another half dozen people were in the gift shop, perusing shelves and clutching bottles.

“Busy day,” she remarked.

“Yeah. It’s made it difficult to take stock of what we have and still need for the party.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I know absolutely nothing about throwing parties beyond the odd birthday, but I’m here to help. And you can pay me in sexual favors,” she said in a low voice.

A grin spread across his face. “Don’t tempt me. Did you really ride your bike all the way here?”

She nodded. “What can I say? When there’s a dude in distress, I must assist.”

“But you didn’t sleep all night.”

“Neither did you.”

“I had a cat nap, thank you very much. If I can’t persuade you to go back home and get some rest, come with me to the storeroom.”

“Can I drop something off in your employee fridge first? I know how you feel about under-refrigerated backpack cheese.”

He laughed and led the way. With the cheese safely stored, he led her down into the basement of the winery. They walked past towering crates of bestselling bottles to a door at the back of the room.

“Is this your office?” She stepped inside the dimly lit room. An outdated computer stood on a desk with a blotter covered in neat handwriting.

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