Page 47 of Love on the Vine
“You must come back for the harvest this year. Law school can wait!” shouted Claire as we drove off. I waved at them from the open window until they were lost from view.
“I’m sorry to leave so soon,” I said wistfully.
“I can always turn around and leave you there, if you prefer,” Jake teased.
“Tempting, but I’d miss the pool.”
“Just the pool?” He wanted me to admit that I’d miss him. A hum of pleasure went through me, but it was bittersweet. It made me think again of his lonely childhood and of his parents always leaving him.
“Well, maybe the cat too.” I touched his hand, and for once he didn’t pull it away. “The company, it goes without saying.”
* * *
The sommelier competition was held in an actual château—an enormous turreted stone structure with pointed slate roofs, a drawbridge, and a moat with the requisite pair of swans floating in it.
By the time we arrived, the grounds were already teeming with young sommeliers, in various textures of black—their hair smoothed, posture straight, impassive expressions on their faces. On the drive over, Jake had told me about the year he’d spent preparing for the sommelier certificate by following a strict regimen of desensitization: He didn’t eat spicy food, gave up coffee, and even changed his toothpaste and shampoo to the most neutral versions he could find.
“It had been stressful at the time,” he explained. “I felt I had to prove something. I didn’t know who I was then. If I had to do it over again, I would have enjoyed it more and not given a damn about what anyone else thought.”
I wanted to find out if he was anxious about tasting tonight, but before I could ask, we heard someone call his name.
“There you are Jake.” Louis came barreling down on us, his dark hair slicked back and polished shoes clicking over the wood floor. He embraced us both, his gaze lingering over me. “I’m glad you brought your colleague.”
Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Jake looked like he wanted to punch him.
Louis ushered us over to the judges’ table in front of the stage where a man in a sleek black suit was waiting. He flashed a set of brilliant white teeth as came toward us. “The man himself, we were beginning to despair of ever seeing you. We thought you might not show.”
Next to me, Jake stiffened. “No such luck.”
The stranger turned to me, assessing. “And who is this lovely young woman?”
“Olivia Peterson, this is Thomas Brinkley,” Jake said as Thomas pressed two cool kisses to my cheeks.
“Oh, nice to meet you,” I said, inhaling sharply as Jake’s warm hand glided over my waist, angling me closer to him.
So this was the infamous Thomas. With his blond hair, blue eyes, and easy, extroverted charm he was the opposite of Jake in every way. But honestly, I could hardly make heads or tails of the guy because Jake’s possessive hold on me was making me dizzy.
As it was, I could barely string two words together whenever he touched me, but with his strong arm circled around my waist like he was staking a claim, it was a miracle I was still standing. My legs had turned to Jell-O, and I had to wrap my own arm around him so I wouldn’t be thrown off balance.
The tension between the two former-friends-turned-rivals was so intense that it was a relief when Louis called them both over and I could take my seat in the audience.
I tried to concentrate on the competition, but not only was it in French, there was also lot of mysterious wine jargon being thrown around. So I focused on the performance of the competitors, who were mostly around my age or a bit older. They moved with such grace and seriousness that it was utterly captivating. I was fully invested, so much so that when one knocked over a glass, I gasped along with the rest of the audience.
When I wasn’t admiring the choreography on stage, my eyes were drawn to Jake. He was unreadable, giving no indication about how he felt being in such close proximity to his former friend.
Thomas, on the other hand, could have won an Academy Award for his performance, his face registering one exaggerated reaction after another like he knew that the ladies were watching him instead of the nervous competitors. At one point, he caught me looking at him and winked at me. Big mistake. The last thingI wanted was to let on that I knew anything about his feud with Jake.
Jin had told me they were business rivals, but I hadn’t known that they used to be close friends until Claire and Clémence had told me more about their personal history. Now I knew they’d met during one of the harvests, then had roomed together in New York before starting their wine distribution business. Then things had gotten weird and competitive, and Thomas took off with Jake’s girlfriend, Magali, and half their client list. That was the extent of my knowledge, and it was incriminating enough to make me wary of Thomas and his oily charm.
When the competition had ended, Jake slipped away immediately and came to my side. He appeared much more relaxed than he had at the beginning of the evening, despite having spent the last hour elbow to elbow with his rival. His mouth curved up as his hand grazed the small of my back. “Come have a drink outside. You’ll enjoy the next part.”
My whole body hummed with the contact of his skin on mine. I barely registered the noise of the crowd as we made our way outside where people were jostling for position in the courtyard. I was only aware of Jake’s strong body as he helped me up onto a small stone barrier where I could watch the festivities. Placing his hands loosely on my hips, he let me rest my back against his broad chest. My breath caught in my throat.
Just when I thought I might expire on the spot, a line of men dressed in flowing robes and heavy wigs with silver chalices dangling from their necks paraded out of the ballroom. They were followed by more men, this time in floppy hats, carrying barrels of wine for the auction.
“Hey, I think we found your outfit for Lucie’s photo shoot.” I giggled and Jake squeezed his fingertips into my side in response. “Seriously, though, they must be sweating under there.”
“I think they’re used to it,” Jake whispered in my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck. I shivered and my nipples hardened against my dress as his large hands slid slowly over my waist, my abdomen, and then settled back on my hip bones. I closed my eyes and let myself fall into him.
