Page 40 of Love on the Vine
“I’ll be sure to ask. And I won’t tell Jin that you insulted him.” I bit into my quiche, carefully holding it over the carton so the crumbs wouldn’t go over the immaculate leather interior of the car. “Did you eat already?”
“Yeah, I’ve been up since five. Went for a run. Fed the cat.”
“Wait, what?” I laughed. That was not something I would have counted on him saying.
“He was waiting outside your door this morning, and when he saw me he started bellowing. I didn’t want him to wake you up.” His eyes met mine then slipped down, lingering ever so briefly on the exposed skin of my thighs where my skirt had ridden up. The nervous butterflies in my stomach turned into excitement, and I shifted in my seat to give him a better view.
“That was nice of you.” I nibbled my lip. I wondered what he’d do if I climbed over and straddled him. My breathing turned shallow.
“Mmm,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on the road.
Another awkward pause.Don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it.
I tried to concentrate on the scenery to take my mind off the gorgeous silent man next to me who, less than twelve hours ago, had his hands on my thighs and his tongue in my mouth. “So how long is the drive?”
“Around six hours, but we’ll make a couple stops on the way—in the Hermitage region and Lyon.”
“Okay.” Hermitage. I knew the name from Jin’s wine atlas, but we’d never gotten around to tasting any. I wished I hadn’t packed the atlas away in my suitcase. If I hadn’t been so distracted by that kiss last night, I could have found out where we were going and prepared. That kiss . . .
“Then tonight,” Jake continued, casually steering the car onto the highway, “we’re going to bone.”
I choked, nearly spraying the dashboard with coffee.
“You okay?” He threw me a worried glance as I tried to compose myself.
“Yeah, it’s just, uh, you seem pretty confident about that,” I coughed.
“About what?” He had the nerve to look completely mystified.
“That we’re going to . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “You know.”
“Bone?” he prompted, nonplussed. “I did make the schedule.”
So that’s how it worked. He’d decided, despite all the objections he’d given me the night before, that we were going to sleep together. How did even he know I was willing? I mean, I was. But he shouldn’t just assume. “Don’t I get a say?”
“If you don’t want to come, I won’t make you.” He shrugged.
“What?” How were we even having this conversation? He could be direct, but this was next level. “Look, I’m just not sure I’m ready to . . .bone.”
He stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. And then slowly, a look of understanding crossed his features, and he shook his head.
“B-e-a-u-n-e.” He said each letter clearly before repeating the word. “Beaune. We’re going to Beaune. It’s the wine capital of Burgundy.”
I felt the blood rush from my head as I stared down into my thermos.Oh, shit. I wanted to dissolve into my seat. Jake stared out at the road ahead, eyebrows drawn. And then his lip twitched. My shoulders started to tremble with suppressed laughter and a hysterical giggle caught in my throat. He shook his head again, then he was dimpling all the way—and laughing! It was a wonderful sound—deep and full-bodied—it wrapped around me like a warm hug.
“I don’t know what’s worse, that you thought I’d just decide something like that, or that I’d put it in those terms,” Jake said finally. “Who the hell talks like that?”
“That’s why it was so surprising.” I caught my breath, swiping at the tears in my eyes, almost giddy with relief. We’d addressed the elephant in the room—or the car—and laughed about it.
“Hey, if you want to drive, let me know,” Jake said once I’d composed myself.
“I can’t drive stick,” I reminded him.
“But you can drive?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then this will be your opportunity to learn.” He grinned wickedly.
