Page 40 of Falling for Carla

I chuckled. “Take a half an hour. I’m going to give them a call and see if they can get us in for a wine tasting.”

Impulsively she hugged me, her energy just bouncing around the room like sunshine. “Thank you!”

I hugged her back and it felt so damn good to make her happy that it almost scared me, what I’d do to keep her this happy.

After making a couple of calls, I got everything together we’d need. When she came out of the bathroom, I was speechless. She was beautiful every day, with her hair wild and loose on her shoulders and no makeup and a few freckles across her nose. But this was new. It occurred to me that as much as I knew the shape and taste and scent of every part of her, I’d never seen Carla dressed up. The one time at the bar she had makeup on, but she was dressed for drinks with friends. This was new and it stopped me in my tracks.

I had handed her a bag of clothes Brent had dropped off last week in her size because she’d said she needed a couple things and gave me a list. Apparently, some of those things had been makeup, a flower clip for her hair, this skirt—it looked like something from an Old Hollywood movie—an Audrey Hepburn one. With a white blouse tied up and a skirt that showed off her trim waist and then swirled past her knees, a dark blue with little white dots on it, and some kind of red sandals that had a ribbon tied around the ankle. She looked like she could be in a musical or dance through the streets of New York with Gene Kelly or Sinatra or someone singing about his love for her.

Her riot of dark curls was pulled up with a few loose ones escaping around her face. A red flower was clipped in her hair, and she just looked like a dream. I wanted to dance with her, twirl her around and let her spin in that skirt, kiss her in moonlight. I had a whole cascade of romantic feelings I didn’t know what to do with. So I nodded to her.

“You look beautiful. And happy.”

“I am happy. I’m so excited, Drake. Thank you for doing this! I can’t wait!”

“Do you have everything you need?”

“I think so,” she held out her purse. “And I left the burner phone here.”

“I have a new burner with me, and a battery pack if we need to charge it. Do you have a jacket or anything?”

“I have a sweatshirt but I’m not sure it goes with this,” she said, hesitant.

“I’ll bring a blanket,” I said, snatching her favorite plaid blanket off the couch.

“I’m not trying to ruin the fun, but we can only do this if you follow all my instructions to the letter. We’ll have a great day, but your safety is my number one priority. I’m going to need you to—”

“I promise,” she said, although I could see a little annoyance in the curl of her lip.

“You stay with me at all times. You need to go to the bathroom, I’m checking the bathroom and waiting outside. No sneaking off or talking to anyone besides Heather, my old chief’s daughter who manages the place. I’m going to have to be able to trust you.”

“You can. I’d do damn near anything to get out of here for the day. I’ll be nice and cooperative, like a good little hostage,” she said.

“You’re not my hostage,” I said grimly.

“So serious,” she laughed, and kissed my cheek. “I’m excited to go, and I’ll do whatever you say. Even if I think it’s over the top. I know you’re just trying to protect me, and I’m not going to do anything to compromise that other than being a smart ass from time to time.”

I hugged her tight all of a sudden, and she hugged me right back. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said.

“I know. You’re one of the good guys, Drake Sheffield. And I promise to listen to you and be careful.”

If I double checked the clip in my gun, if I made sure I had cash so we weren’t tracked by credit card use, those were just precautions. Nothing to take away from the spontaneity of the day.

Driving out of Berkley with Carla by my side was some kind of rush, like we were sneaking out, getting away with something. Once we were out of town, she rolled down her window to let the fresh breeze in. She relaxed visibly, sunglasses on and the radio cranked up to a station she chose. Seeing her like this, freer and lighter now that she wasn’t pacing the confines of the apartment, felt good to me. I reached for her hand and held it. She looked out the window like she was drinking in the change of scenery, the different sights and sounds.

“Have you been to this vineyard before?” she asked.

“No, but Lou used to talk about it. He was proud of Heather managing the place and making it more successful. They even won a couple award a few years ago. She’s really helped put the place on the map. And it’s a small operation compared to a lot of the vineyards around Napa. Not as touristy and definitely not as crowded on a Sunday.”

“Are they open on Sundays?” she asked, too astute. I gave a shrug. She’d found me out. I asked them to open up just for us.

“No. So it’s just going to be us. We don’t have to have any concerns about your picture showing up in the background of somebody’s Instagram or anyone along on the tour asking a bunch of questions. We’ll get a private tour and taste the vintage, have a picnic. That way we can relax and just enjoy the day.”

“That sounds perfect. I can’t believe you asked someone to open their vineyard on a Sunday so we could have it all to ourselves,” she said.

“Hey, you know that scar on my leg?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

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