Page 1 of Let It Breathe
Chapter 1
Reese Clark ducked out of her house and made a beeline for the picnic table beside the winery barn. In one hand she held a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. In the other, a bowl of mealworms.
The magazine she’d tucked under one arm slipped a little, but Reese pinned it in place with her armpit. The movement made the small black bird on her shoulder ruffle his feathers and squawk as Reese squished across the damp grass. It had rained all night, but sunlight seeped through the clouds as Reese savored the hug of her comfiest jeans and the thrill of being blissfully alone with her breakfast.
“Here, try this.”
Reese jumped, losing her grip on the magazine but saving the mealworms and Cocoa Puffs. The starling on her shoulder chirped again and fluttered to perch on her head. Reese glared at the man emerging from the winery barn with a glass in one hand and his ponytailed blond hair held back by a blue bandana.
“Dammit, Eric—why are you here so early on a Tuesday?”
“It’s not early, it’s six thirty.”
“That’s early. And it’s your day off.”
She plunked down on the picnic bench and set her cereal and mealworms on the table. Eric bent to snatch the magazine by its cover, keeping the wineglass clenched in one hand.
“Hey, the new Wine Spectator,” he said. “Mind if I?—”
“Yes, I mind.” Reese grabbed the magazine back and flipped the end of her long, gold-brown ponytail out of her cereal bowl. The bird held his ground, its tiny claws anchored in Reese’s hair. “I haven’t read it yet. You’ll get it later, but only if you let me eat my breakfast in peace.”
He dropped onto the picnic bench beside her and scratched his chest through his SpongeBob T-shirt. He studied the two bowls.
“Which one’s your breakfast?” he asked.
“The mealworms. Bluebirds love Cocoa Puffs.”
He pushed the wineglass in front of her, knocking the spoon out of her cereal.
“Mealworms go great with Viognier—come on, just a sip,” he urged. “I think it’s a bit too brassy, but I want your opinion.”
“Eric, I?—”
“Don’t be a grump, Riesling. Drink the fucking wine.”
She slugged him in the shoulder. “Don’t call me Riesling.” She was more annoyed by the use of her full name than by the cursing or the suggestion she was the sort of girl who drank wine at six thirty in the morning.
She was that sort of girl.
And truth be told, she didn’t mind the cursing.
“Go feed the bluebirds so they stick around and chase the damn starlings off the vines,” she said. “Then I’ll taste the wine.”
“You mean like the damn starling that just pooped in your hair?”
“Stumpy has an injured foot and isn’t a threat to our grapes. Besides, he’s being picked up today by a wildlife group that handles nonnative species.”
“You’d rescue a goddamn piranha if you found it swimming in the alpaca trough.”
Reese ignored him as she picked up the glass. She took a slow sip, swishing it over her tongue. She sucked in a little air and tilted her head to the side, contemplating the wine as she watched Eric walk to the bird feeder. He had one eye on her, which was probably why he didn’t see the alpaca until it head-butted him.
“Goddammit, Leon—not in the nuts again!” Eric doubled over.
Beside him, the shaggy, cream-colored beast with random patches of caramel fur made a wark-wark sound and twitched his ears. Reese tasted the wine once more before she set the glass on the table. Eric limped back over with Leon ambling cheerfully behind.
“Why can’t you have a dog like normal women?” Eric muttered.
“At what point did you mistake me for a normal woman?” Reese reached up to scratch the alpaca behind the ears. The starling chirped and fluttered away to perch on Leon’s back. Reese took another sip from the glass. “The wine’s great. Seductive. Is this the one you blended with Muscat?”
