Page 43 of Love Among Vines

“Sounds great,” Rett said before she could take it back.

She would figure it out. She always did.

“It’s a deal.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

RETT

“For someonewho just single-handedly solved all your own problems and had a ‘full-blown mouthgasm’ from brunch, you don’t seem very happy,” Rett said.

Jade bit her lip and looked out the window as they passed the café. They were in the truck on the way to the city, Penny sprawled between them like a sixty-pound, snoring throw blanket.Even though Jade was staying, she needed materials and clothes to make it through the next two weeks.

Her decision to stay had been a surprise, but a welcome one. It would be much easier to coach her when she was physically staying in town. But now they needed to hammer out the details of their arrangement.

“What if I can’t do it?”she asked.

“Do what? The mural?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to disappoint Margie.”

“You won’t. You were just painting this morning.”

“That might have been a fluke. And I told you, it’s not my usual art. That’s what she wants—the bold, fun Jade who throws feathers and glitter on a hot pink mess and calls it ‘Tuesdays at the Horny Ram.’ What if I can’t remember how to be that person anymore?”

Rett pulled up at a red light and turned to her. She looked at him. The sun shone punishingly bright, illuminating the dust motes and dog hair swirling in the cabin. The air conditioning blew her hair away from her face. God, she was beautiful.

“You’re an artist in your bones. I know you’ll find your way.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Oh,” she said, shooting up in her seat as they moved through the intersection. She pointed out the window at a grocery store in the distance. “We need snacks.”

“Snacks? We just had brunch.”

She slid her heart-shaped sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. The strap on her overall-short things slipped off her shoulder.

“We can’t have a road trip without snacks. There are rules.”

“You have a lot of convictions about road trip etiquette for someone who doesn’t have a driver’s license.”

She nudged him. “Listen here, Mr. Three-Piece Suit. Snacks and playlists or a handful of carefully curated podcast episodes are required. I don’t make the rules.”

“Fine. But we’re not going to that grocery store.”

She peered at it. “Why? Is it owned by a rival vintner?”

He cracked a smile, then shook his head. “No. It’s the price gouging. Nine dollars for a bottle of ketchup. Thirty dollars for two chicken breasts. It would be cheaper to buy a plot of land and all the tools and materials necessary to become a farmer than it would be to do your weekly shopping there.”

She settled back into her seat. “Damn. Okay, well, I’m sure we’ll pass a gas station or something. I’ll get to work on the playlist in the meantime.” She pulled out her phone. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Depends on the time of year and my mood. I’ve been in a nineties summer hits rut for weeks.”

She reached over and touched his arm. “I love nineties summer bops. Say no more.”

In no time, their nearly five-hour journey was punctuated by a well-rounded representation of nineties artists. Sugar Ray crooned as they rolled into the town of Bath.

Rett glanced in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t see Hammondsport from here, let alone his winery. But even though he owed this trip to Jade after ruining her painting, the thought of stepping away from the winery for a full day brought a dim feeling of panic. Anything could happen, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it from five hours away.

“So we should probably talk about the terms of our agreement,” Jade piped up.

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