Page 17 of Paths

“Quit apologizing. You called to let me know you’d be late and I told you we’re slow today with no events. I plan on doing inventory in the cellar this afternoon unless things pick up. Are you good up here on your own?”

“I think so. I’ve practically memorized my cheat-sheet for tastings. I know how the wines are made and their pairings, but I’ll never be as good as you.” I grin at him, serious and teasing at the same time. How Evan knows as much as he does about wine at his young age baffles me. He told me he wants to become a certified Sommelier someday. Courses to do this are easily found in California, but not Virginia. He’s been working closely with Van, Addy’s winemaker, to learn his side of the business, explaining time and experience are key.

Since he’s twenty-four, I’d say he’s ahead of the game.

Evan grabs a file and his tablet. “Addy’s in her office. Call me if you get busy.”

I watch him disappear on his way to the cellar before going to the kitchen to check in with Maggie. I’ve decided it doesn’t matter how long I work here, conversing with Maggie will never be effortless. Today is no different. I jot down the specials and listen to her explain her attempts at seasonal baking so Addy doesn’t have to order fresh desserts from a local bakery. No one has come right out and said it, but from what I gather, baking isn’t Maggie’s strong suit.

I hightail it out of her kitchen, but hardly make it a step into the bar when I’m stopped in my tracks. I was barely away for a couple minutes, but in that short amount of time, he appeared out of nowhere. One second I think I’m by myself, prepared to enjoy a slow afternoon, and then, poof—he’s here, studying the wine list.

Without moving a muscle, his bright blue eyes look up from the leather-bound menu. Those eyes drop from my face, slowly traveling down my body before making their way back up, and when they do, he does the same thing he did for the first time ever when I stood on his porch. His lips scarcely tip on one side, making me wonder what he’s thinking.

I mean, I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s thinking, but I haven’t had a man look at me like that in a really long time. No man had the opportunity, or if one did, he knew who I was, and knew better than to give me a second look. In fact, up until a year ago, I didn’t realize just how dangerous it would be for another man to glance my way, but now I do. I get it, and it makes me angry all over again.

But having Grady’s eyes on me is freeing. Not only are they eyes that I like and have lusted over for weeks, but after yesterday when I got to look into those eyes up-close, having them travel my body makes me tingle.

I can’t even think about having my hands on his bare skin. Touching his warm body and firm muscles was too much. I barely kept it together, it was all I could do to keep my breathing even. My heart racing along with the damn tingle didn’t help one bit.

I haven’t tingled for a really long time. Hell, I haven’t even wanted to tingle, and any self-induced tingling business never crossed my mind. I guess stress can do that—make one not care about the tingle anymore.

But Grady’s eyes and his beautiful lips barely tipping make me think solely about the tingle.

Damn. Now my panties are wet.

Holy shit, that hasn’t happened in … I don’t know … almost forever. Well, it did happen last night when I was touching Grady’s bare skin and rock-hard—even if a bit tight—muscles. But before then, it was absolutely almost forever.

“Maya,” Grady greets me as he tosses the menu to the counter and leans back in his bar stool.

I immediately notice his bare arm for the first time, the cuffs of his sleeves rolled low with no cast, showing off his veined forearms. I do my best to ignore his veins and my voice is hopeful when I ask, “You went to the doctor?”

He shakes his head casually. “Nope.”

“But…” I’m confused, at a loss for words, before stating the obvious. “Your cast is gone.”

“Yep.”

Without moving, I keep on. “If you didn’t go to the doctor, how did you get it off?”

“I cut it off.”

My eyes go big. “Why would you do that?”

He slowly moves his arm up, proving his shoulder is stiff, and turns his forearm a few times, twisting his wrist. “Because it’s better. No reason to keep showering with a plastic bag on my arm. That was a pain in the ass.”

The thought of Grady showering, plastic bag or not, does not help my case of the tingles, so I put that out of my mind and slowly move to where he sits at the bar. I go with the easiest subject that comes to mind. “You should still have it x-rayed to make sure it set properly.”

“It set just fine.”

“You can’t know that for sure.”

He leans forward with his good arm on the bar and softens his voice in a way I’ve never heard from him. “It’s fine, Maya.”

Because of his tone and the simple fact I’d look like a freak if I kept arguing, I stop and sigh, directing the conversation toward the only other thing we’ve ever talked about. “Do you want to hear the specials?”

The man sitting before me, who’s only been broody at the least and irritable at the most, leans back in his stool and carefully crosses his arms across his wide chest. Before I know it, a grin spreads across his face. “Are you going to torture me if I say no?”

I pull my lip between my teeth to keep from smiling. The man’s proclivity for food is relentless. “Maybe.”

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