Page 66 of Blush
She leaned forward and retrieved it. When she passed it to him, she said, “I’m leaving this weekend.”
“And you’re telling me this because...?”
Oh, so that was how he was going to play it?
“Just FYI,” she said.
“Noted.”
She followed him into the field, where he stopped in front of the vines just a few feet in from the marker. He counted the clusters of buds on one of the plants. “These little guys are late bloomers.”
A cloud passed in front of the sun, granting merciful shade. Sadie’s skin was already a deep tan, and a smattering of faint freckles had appeared on the bridge of her nose. She didn’t have her mother’s olive skin tone, and that seemed to confirm that she was not meant for a life outdoors.
She and Mateo had absolutely nothing in common. This was pointless.
“You didn’t tell me about the other photo in your office,” she said.
He glanced at her. “You didn’t recognize what that was?”
“No. Should I?”
He shrugged. “It’s your winery.”
“It’s not mine. It’s my grandparents’.” And apparently, not even theirs for very much longer.
“It’s a photo from the Harvest Circle ceremony years ago.”
Sadie didn’t want to admit that although she had a vague recollection of her mother mentioning the Harvest Circle to her, she couldn’t remember exactly what it was. The blank look on her face must have given her away, because Mateo said, “Hollander Estates doesn’t use industrial yeast to ferment wine.”
Sadie knew that without yeast, wine was just grape juice. It was the yeast that converted the grape sugars into alcohol.
“My mother suggested to your grandfather that he try using natural flora. He liked the idea, so now on the first day of harvest every year, Leonard has Chardonnay juice pressed and puts it in a big jug. All the employees are invited to drop something in: a flower from their backyard, a shell from the beach—whatever.”
“That works?”
“Yeasts are everywhere. In the air, in plants, fruit, flowers, leaves, and rocks. So it works, but the process is very risky—we have to monitor it closely. The upside is more interesting biodiversity and no additives. Plus, the wine is, in a sense, produced from a piece of us all.”
Why did everything about the vineyard sound noble and romantic when Mateo explained it to her? It was him.Hewas noble and romantic.
And gorgeous. With her sunglasses covering her eyes, she could stare at him all she wanted and he wouldn’t know what she was looking at. Like the fact that she could stare endlessly at the fullness of his lower lip. Or the dimple in his right cheek when he gave her a hard-won smile.
She couldn’t take it another minute. She leaned forward and kissed him. After a split second of hesitation, he cupped her face with his hands, kissing her back hard. She tasted the salt from his sweat and, pressing herself against him, felt his heart beating against hers. But then he broke away.
“Sadie.”
“What?” she said, breathless.
He smiled and shook his head. She stared at his mouth, those lips, incredulous that she had just tasted them. Her wanting was obscene.
“That was very forward.”
She felt a flash of irritation. She thought of the part inLacewhere Maxine calls out the sexual double standard: a guy could get carried away by his passion, but a woman was always supposed to control herself.
“What does that mean? Why do I need permission to express my wants? Men never do!”
He took her hand and tugged her down gently to sit on the ground. The grass tickled the backs of her thighs. The sun beat down stronger again, but she felt impervious.
“My mother took the photo of the flowers and wine in the jar. She’s the one who taught my father how to do it. She has a feminist heart, too.” With that, he gave her hand just the smallest squeeze.
