“Austin Kane. What’s yours?”
“You’re weird, Austin Kane,” she teases, and props her legs back on the railing with her book in her lap. “And my name is Parker.”
She blushes at my gaze. I can see it, but you’d never know she is nervous or anything of the sort because she begins reading the classic novel to me…
And to this day, I remember every word,
From the very first day we met, we were a whirlwind of feelings, laughter, tension, and everything in between. I came to the vineyard that day, got the job, and really never left again. Not until the day she did, and even then, I was only gone temporarily. This place has always called me back.
I bend over when I’ve reached the end of the current row to twist around a small sign stuck into the ground that will tell me with a glance this vine row is cleared and in good shape. I’ve got my routine; the staff has theirs and it all coexists just the way that it needs to.
I’m worried that Parker, in all of her chaotic, stubborn glory, will come in and fuck with things too much. She has this annoying little habit of backing down when she’s wrong and never, ever admitting it.