Page 43 of Love Unforgettable
Chapter 15
Lexie
What in the actual fuck just happened?
My God, Lexie. You see a shirtless guy and next thing you’re crawling all over him like a monkey to a tree.
Mmmm, he does have a body like a tree. All big and muscular and yum.
Shut up, Lexie.
Make me.
I can’t forget that he’s the enemy. He hurt my dog.
Well, his horse hurt my dog.
Except that he’s fixing the fence so that never happens again.
But that wasn’t the horse fence he was fixing, it was the cow fence.
But he’s apologized and he’s obviously sincere. And he gives a really good hug.
Okay, enough thinking about Cole Mason.
I need to get back to my new lab and make sure everything is ready to run acid level checks this weekend on my barreled Cabernet Sauvignon. Plus, we’ve got the first event at the new location to figure out.
No time to waste.
I get back to the barn, and park the ATV, wave to Daniel, and make my way to the lab. It’s an amazing facility. Whenbubbesaid she wanted to put money in the winery, she wasn’t kidding. I plan to pay her back, but it will take me a good ten years to do it. If not longer.
Speaking of, she and her friend, Babs, are lounging on the outdoor couches outside the new tasting room, which isn’t open yet, drinking sangria. One of the new things we’ll be doing is a sangria bar. Also,bubbe’sidea. We’ve got lemon, lime, peach, and apple trees, plus a couple strawberry and blackberry bushes on the property. And they always produce way more fruit than we can ever handle ourselves. I wasn’t keen on turning my wine into sangria, but Mavis said we could use the bulk wine I produce, or whatever I didn’t deem good enough to bottle.
Which is a fantastic idea. Sometimes that wine can be saved by blending it into something else, or I can use it for barrel topping, but oftentimes it’s sold as bulk wine to the larger producers who will use it in a blend. Their production is so large they can take a mediocre wine and mix it with something and the end result isn’t changed much at all. It’s just filler. But it’s not a money maker when I sell it that way.
The wine I sell by the bottle is expensive for the everyday consumer. Upwards of $75 a bottle. But it’s really fucking good. I make sure of that. It’s boutique style wine, the grapes hand-picked and manually sorted. Most of what is bottled is free-run before press. It’s a lot of work, but it’s also why it’s so good.
And why moving from my quirky downtown space into something on the land with the vineyards in the background is also important. It’s part of the experience and what people want to see. San Soloman prides itself on being a teeny tiny Napa. And when you go to Napa, you get an experience for sure.
I flop down on the couch next to Babs and grab myself a glass of cold sangria and take a long drink. It’s really good, especially after the heat of Cole Mason. Well, and of course, riding the dusty roads of the vineyard.
“Oh,bubbe, that’s delicious,” I tell her. She preens at my compliment.
“We’ve been tryin’ all the flavors this mornin’, sugar. And this one is definitely my favorite,” Babs says.
“Is this peach?” I ask.
“I don’ remembah,” Babs laughs.
“Feh, don’t listen to nonsense,bubala. She’s drunk. Lightweight.” Mavis waves her hand in the air as a gesture of dismissal. Her second favorite hand gesture.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Babs leans over the coffee table toward Mavis. “I was weaned on bourbon. This grape juice just barely makes a dent.” She hiccups, and she and Mavis both dissolve into giggles.
“How many bottles have you had?” I ask. Mavis motions toward the side table against the wall where four empty bottles stand. “Four? You’ve had four bottles already? Are you kidding me? Oh, my God,bubbe!”
“Is no problem,bubala. If we have the hangovers, we keep drinking.L’chaim!” She raises her glass to Babs in a toast.
“Lah Climb,” Babs repeats raising her own glass.
