Page 93 of Love Among Vines

“Of course it’s good. It’s a Rhodes.”

“And how’s yours? The chardonnay?”

He raised his glass and inhaled. A good bouquet—oaky, rich. A hint of vanilla.

He took a sip, and the crisp acidity hit his tongue. The darkness had leant an unusual potency to his ability to taste. Hmm. Maybe he should offer wine tastings in the dark.

“Not bad,” he admitted. “Not as good as ours, though. And twice the price.”

“Are you perpetually worried that you’re going to find another winery that outperforms yours?”

“A good vintner is always worried about performance.”

“In wine or in the bedroom?”

He choked on a sip of chardonnay and coughed. His nostrils burned. “Both.”

The night had finally arrived. With any luck, the date would remind Jade that she deserved so much more than she currently allowed herself to have. And, selfishly, he couldn’t wait to uncover the gift he had gotten her.

Snatches of conversations drifted in all around them—someone to their right was about to buy a boat, while another voice whispered about a coworker’s secret affair.

Their starter arrived, a palate-tingling mix of spicy, sweet, and savory. He stared into the darkness. Would the food help? If she could reclaim her muse, she could live anywhere. Somewhere with a lower cost of living. Somewhere like Hammondsport, even. Not that he wanted her to move here. Did he?

“Did you give any thought to your homework assignment?” an unseen Jade asked.

He knew this conversation was coming, and yet he still wasn’t prepared to answer. “I did. I have a lot of half-assed ideasabout the business. The only one I’ve ever brought to fruition was the speakeasy.”

“Which is amazing, for the record.”

“I like to think so. But as for the big dream…I’m just not sure. My priority right now has to be fixing the winery. I don’t have a lot of time for dreaming.”

“Dreaming is free,” she reminded him. “I find it hard to believe that six-year-old Rett was sitting in first grade being like ‘boy, I can’t wait to make a nice red blend when I get older’ while everyone else was talking about being a doctor or a firefighter.”

His fingers tightened around his fork. “There was one other dream.”

“Do you feel comfortable sharing it?” she asked after a full thirty-second pause. Her voice was gentle, hesitant. She probably thought he was about to confess to being an aspiring serial killer.

“I haven’t told anyone about it. Not since?—”

“Twatty McCheaterFace?”

“Right.”

Her foot bumped against his under the table. “You know I would never tell anyone. All secrets are strictly protected under the Fake Relationship Clause.”

His heart beat uncomfortably fast. “I wanted to be a baker.”

Since he couldn’t see Jade’s face, he had no idea how she reacted to the news. He plunged onward.

“I was really close to going to pastry arts school instead of business school. My parents convinced me not to, so I gave up that dream. But I never gave up baking.”

Her voice was soft. “You made those apple dumplings, didn’t you?”

“I did. And the ice cream.”

“Rett.” Something clanged on the table, then she gripped his hand. Her touch was like velvet. “They were incredible. No offense, but this is the opposite of a problem.”

“It’s not like I can do anything about it. My focus needs to be on the winery.”

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