Page 86 of Lochlan

The space is sparsely decorated. The dark wood floors are original, there are pipes above us and two walls of exposed brick. It was a section of the old mercantile back in the 1800s, and it still has the large picture windows facing the street. I push inside to the buzzing of several conversations and jazz softly playing in the background. Connell waves at me from the corner couch and I trek my way to the back of the room. He stands to greet me with a hug and helps me off with my coat. He's casual in jeans and a shirt minus the Stetson tonight, but I can see a baseball cap sitting beside him.

“How did you find this place?” I ask, taking a seat next to him.

He throws his arm onto the backrest of the couch and grins. “A buddy of mine said he came here last week with his wife and they enjoyed the wine. I just thought I'd check the place out for myself.”

A young male, all in black, arrives at the table with menus. “We have a few tasting options. You can start with the recommended selections of about six wines or you can order a flight that comprises six tastes of one varietal.” He glances at me. “The champagne flight is popular, and we have others, no matter what your mood is tonight.”

“Can you give us a minute to look over the menu?” Connell asks.

“No worries.” He smiles at Connell, on the verge of flirting. “Just signal me when you decide what you want.”

“Seems like you have a new admirer,” I tease.

“He's not my type. The only person I'm interested in tonight is you.”

God, he's good for my ego. I really like being with him. When we're together, it doesn't matter who walks by him, his attention is always on me. “If you change your mind, I can always morph into your wingman.”

He chuckles. “I'll take that into consideration. Do you know what you want to drink?”

“I think I'll take his suggestion and order a champagne flight; I see they have a prosecco. You know how I like Italian bubbly.”

He signals the guy that we're ready to order. When he leaves us, we fall back into conversation, nothing more than commenting on our surroundings and the music. When I look up, the man is back with a tray of glasses. We thank him and he gives one more lingering look at Connell, then leaves.

“How is MacTavish Cellars?” I ask before taking the first sip of the first glass in the flight.

Connell pauses, considering my question. “Are you asking how I'm enjoying my new job, or are you asking about Lochlan?”

“Okay, you got me. It's been months and you haven't said a word about the changes at the winery. I'm tired of waiting for you to tell me, so I thought I'd ask.”

“As far as I can see, there really haven't been any changes in management. Lochlan and Fiona appear to be sharing their duties equally. You never see one without the other. But there has been a persistent rumor.”

Uncertainty bubbles up at what he's about to say. “What kind of rumor? Are they setting a date for their wedding?”

He shrugs. “No, nothing like that. The rumor has to do with Lochlan. It seems he's turned down some high-power job in Scotland at the MacTavish Distilleries.”

My interest perks up. “So, it appears he stayed at the winery to manage with Fiona.”

“It would appear so. I don't have any dealing with her or Lochlan directly. Anything that has to do with my job comes through Geordie.”

My heart softens at the mention of Geordie. Throughout my difficulties with Lochlan, he was like an older brother. The last night I saw him, he walked me to my car. I held up pretty well the whole time we strolled, but when I realized it would be the last time I'd see him, I couldn't help it. I broke down and cried. That big man put his arms around me and let me blubber on his chest. I swear, I must've soaked his jacket all the way through to skin. The wonderful thing is, he didn't care. He let me cry and whispered soothing things in the Gaelic like I was a lost child. “How is Geordie?”

“Geordie's good. He stays out of Fiona's way. I don't think they like each other.”

“Does Lochlan look happy?” I blurt it out before thinking. Instead of surprise, Connell's lips form a resigned pout.

“Lochlan is Lochlan. He never changes, he’s still his grumpy-ass self.”

I can't help it, I giggle. “So, I guess Grumpus is still terrorizing the tasting room?”

“They hired Patricia as the tasting room manager. She's been angling for that job forever. Lochlan has been relegated to his usual duties as manager. I don't see him much.” He picks up his glass. “Tell me, how is training at the Blue Waves going?”

“I'm really happy for the first time.” I can't keep the gushing out of my voice. “I hadn't realized how stressed I was as a part of Crimson Beaches. I have some news. Livi and I are going to compete as a team in Santa Barbara in two days. We've been training and spending a lot of time together. This is the first time in days we haven't been in constant contact.”

“Santa Barbara sounds like a fun trip. Would you like some company? You might compete during the day, but you'll need someone to massage your muscles at night.”

“That sounds really great. I don't think we should do it on this trip, though. There's too much riding on it and I'll be stressed, not to mention the debrief Livi and I will go through after the tournament.”

“Are you saying that it's time for me to move out of the friend zone?”

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