Page 41 of Ambrosia Kisses
"Someone is late!" Lucysing-songs when I scurry into the restaurant twenty minutes late, still smoothing down my hair.
I fall into my chair with a groan, still trying to fix my clothes. Ridley messed them all up. Twice. That's not me complaining. I'm just saying, maybe I should stick to skirts from now on.
"Blame your brother-in-law," I say, letting out a soft cry when I see the basket of bread on the table. I snatch a piece up, chomping into it. "It's his fault."
"Mmhmm," Lucy teases, grinning at me. "I just bet it's his fault."
I toss a tiny piece of bread at her, making her laugh. "Did you know about the wine?"
"Um, you're going to need to be a little more specific than that, P. There's wine all over the damn place here."
"Ambrosia Kisses."
"Oh. That wine."
"You knew?"
"Oliver told me about it. I guess Ridley basically turned into Bastian when it came time to import it from the vineyard in Veneto. He wanted to handle everything himself, and nothing was good enough." A light laugh spills from her lips. "Bastian actually wanted to kill him a few times, so you can just guess how he was."
"He said he made it to taste like me," I whisper.
Lucy's eyes widen. "Like your…?"
"No!" I bury my face in my hands, laughing loudly. "God, no. I don't even want to think about what a wine inspired bythatwould taste like."
"Right now? Probably like Ridley," she says, deadpan.
I shoot her a death glare through slit fingers, which cracks her up.
"I'm just saying." She shrugs. "You're the one doing the deed all over the vineyard. So, it stands to reason…"
"Stop talking."
Another savage laugh escapes her lips.
"I meant, he made it to taste like kissing me."
"Oh." Her expression softens. "That's really sweet."
"I might have told him that I love him."
"What?" Lucy practically shrieks at me. "You did? When?"
"While we were tasting the wine. You need to help convince him that they need to sell it, by the way."
"It's good?"
"Really good. It might be the best one they have."
"Damn," she whispers, clearly impressed. She knows just how good their wines are. They win awards, for crying out loud. "So…did he say it back?"
"He did."
"I feel abutcoming on."
"There isn't one."
"Liar," she says softly. "You're still worried, aren't you?"
