Page 22 of The Cask

I pulled the door closed but didn’t lock it behind us. “It shouldn’t take long. How were your errands? And your visit with your mom?”

“It was fine. How was your day? Did you get your stuff done?”

I glanced over my shoulder at him before I went into my office. He changed the subject quick. “My day was okay,” I said slowly. “For a day off it has been pretty relaxed. I just—shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“My phone is dead, and I left my charger upstairs,” I told him as I powered it off. “My phone is always dying so quickly.”

“Do you want me to run up and get it?”

“No.” I put the phone face down on the desk and turned to him. “It’s okay.”

I went to my drawer and pulled out two plastic cups. Uncorking the bottle, I poured the pink liquid into each of them. I walked around to the front of my desk and handed him a cup.

“What is this?” he asked as he brought it to his nose, swirling it around to prepare his brain for the wine he was about to taste. “It smells like…some kind of fruit. Strawberry?”

Nodding, I smiled. “Cava. They call this the Spanish cousin to champagne.”

He lifted his wine. “Here’s to us finally having our first drink together.”

Stepping forward, I tapped my cup against his. “Here’s to a day of firsts for us.”

Silently we both sipped.

I closed my eyes and let the flavor roll over my tongue. It had a spicy edge to it that I loved. “Mmm.”

“Tell me about it.” Omari’s voice was deep, compelling my eyes open. His voice became softer. “What do you taste?”

A chill ran through my entire body.

Watching the way the word ‘taste’ rolled off his tongue and the way he was looking at me as he said it was sexy as hell.

I swallowed hard. “The fruit”—I took another sip to gather myself— “the fruity aromas draw me in, and the taste keeps me invested. The strawberry. The redcurrant. The pomegranate. All of that combined is the sweetness I crave and then there’s the light acidity that gives it that kick. It’s not quite sweet and spicy, but it kind of is. It’s vibrant and soft and… it’s all the things.”

He nodded, letting the wine swish in his mouth before swallowing. “I taste that kick you were talking about. It’s subtle so it doesn’t take away from the overall berry flavor like I would’ve assumed it would. It adds to it. It ages it.”

Oh, okay!

Hearing him pick up on the notes of the wine piqued my interest.

My lips pulled upward, but I quickly masked it by taking another sip. “Hm.”

Watching me, he licked his lips. “This is your favorite.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a declaration. And the fact that he was right caused something to coil deep down in my gut.

“Yes,” I answered breathily. “Since I was twenty-one. How did you know?”

He closed the gap between us, backing me up against the front of my desk. Reaching behind me, he placed his empty cup somewhere behind me. “I can tell.”

My heart raced at his closeness. “How?” I asked.

He grazed my cheek with the back of his hand. “Your face.”

I tried not to lean into his touch. “What about it?”

“I can just tell.” His eyes dropped to my lips. “The way you looked when you tasted it.”

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