Page 94 of Let It Breathe
Clay cleared his throat. “Look, Reese. Last night was?—”
He faltered, looking for the right adjective. Beautiful. Amazing. Moving. Mind-blowing.
Reese looked up at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “A nice surprise?”
Clay nodded, feeling a sharp surge of relief. He’d half expected her to be regretful or angry or embarrassed.
“Exactly,” he breathed. “A very nice surprise.”
Reese let go of the grape leaf and turned to him. She stood on tiptoe, sliding her fingers up the back of his neck. She planted a soft kiss at the edge of his jaw, and for the briefest moment, Clay forgot to worry about Eric or anyone else seeing them.
“This is one of the lousiest mornings of my life, but I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured.
“Me, too.”
“I know we need to talk about what happened last night, and that we might have just done something really dumb, but right now—” She shrugged. “I don’t regret it.”
“I don’t, either,” Clay said, pulling her into an embrace and not caring if the whole damn family showed up and applauded. “I don’t regret anything at all.”
Even then, with Reese snug in his arms and the scent of her hair in his lungs, he knew that wasn’t entirely true.
Chapter 13
Eric dipped the wine thief into the bunghole and withdrew it, depositing a bit of the amber liquid into Reese’s glass before filling his own.
Reese leaned against the barrel as she stuck her nose in her glass. From the corner of her eye, she studied the grim set of her ex-husband’s jaw.
“That’s the first time in fifteen years you haven’t made a bunghole joke,” she observed. “You’re taking this fire pretty hard.”
“You said hard.”
“There you go.”
Eric shook his head. “I worked my ass off on this wine. We all worked our asses off on this wine. I take that pretty fucking seriously.”
Reese nodded and took a sip. There was just the faintest hint of smokiness in the bouquet, which wasn’t the worst thing in a Chardonnay. It actually complemented the oaky undertones and added an interesting depth. She swirled the wine in the glass, checking clarity. Eric did the same, pausing to spit a mouthful into the drain at their feet. He took another sip, considering.
“We should bottle it now,” he said.
“You sure?”
“I just don’t want to risk moving it down below or exposing it to smoke for even another day.”
Reese nodded. “We weren’t planning to do that for a while yet. I don’t think we have enough bottles.”
“I’ve got a few pallets at my place. Why don’t you go over with your dad and bring them back up here?”
“Dad’s got a meeting with the insurance guy, and everyone else is busy.” Reese glanced toward the side of the building where she’d left Clay stringing plastic over the charred side of the building to keep the rain out. “Clay wants to help. He’s got a truck. I can ask him to help move bottles.”
Something dark passed over Eric’s face, but he nodded and reached into his pocket to hand her his keys. “You know where everything is. Just be careful.”
Reese rolled her eyes, knowing full well he wasn’t worried about her breaking bottles or exceeding the speed limit.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Eric snorted. “Daddy issues. That’s just what we need to make this whole thing weirder.”
Twenty minutes later, Reese pushed open the door to Eric’s barn. She felt Clay tense beside her and turned to look at him. With his hands in his pockets, the tattoo on his left bicep peeked out from beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt. He hesitated, then followed her inside.
