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I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home and shower and go to bed. The only way I could see myself actually feeling better was to remove the smell of her from my body, toss the clothes into the washer or the fireplace, and drink myself to sleep. But I needed to stay, if nothing else to not let anyone in on something being wrong. So, I resolved myself to leaving as soon as 6:00 p.m. came.

I spent the rest of the workday as far away from the kitchen as humanly possible. There were other areas of the restaurant that needed attention, either for work already ongoing or prep for work yet to begin. Leaving Duncan in charge of the work left to do in the kitchen and pushing off the tasting room until another day, I went on the far side of the building to work.

Most of what was available to me was lugging heavy equipment around, but that was fine. Physical, manual labor was at least mindless and required me to focus on not dropping anything on my feet or falling over. The last thing I needed was to get hurt and not be able to do the job myself. A few of the other guys offered to help me with some of the heavier items, but I brushed them off. I’d rather go home absolutely exhausted at six and be able to tumble into bed after the shower than have my day go easy and have time to sit around and think.

Aside from telling Duncan where I was, I avoided talking to anyone for the rest of the day too. I responded to one or two texts from Cameron and Alex. But otherwise, I kept my mouth shut and quietly worked on preparing a couple of other rooms for the work needed on them in the next couple of days. As the day wore on, I grew more desperate for something to do that didn’t involve going back toward the kitchen.

I kept my eye on the clock. Eventually, I propped my phone up on a windowsill and put on a TV show on a streaming service to marathon. I knew each episode would take about twenty minutes, and after enough of them, I would be able to go home. I kept listening for the theme song, letting me know I’d ticked another window off my time.

Eventually, the alarm on my phone sounded, telling me I only had thirty minutes left. That was normally when I started packing up and cleaning so I had everything ready for the next day. Some of the crew had already left for the day, and I waved to others as they passed the room to tell me they were heading out. One last episode on the phone was playing, and when the final theme came on, signaling the show had ended, I snatched the phone up, hit the home button, and shoved it in my pocket.

Quietly, I slipped into the trailer, unloaded all my stuff, grabbed my keys, and headed toward my truck. The clock struck six just as I turned the ignition, and I sent a text to Derek.

I’m heading out. Duncan can finish up the kitchen tomorrow or so. I’ll be available if he needs anything.

I set the phone in the holder on my dash and backed out, turning and driving away from the vineyard as fast as I could.

16

Ally

I spent the rest of the day in the kitchen working on the dishes exactly as I had planned to. But the incident with Noah put a damper on the day I had really been looking forward to. The repeat incident. I couldn’t let myself forget that. I hadn’t just slipped up once. It wasn’t a one-time indiscretion. This was the second time I’d ended up in that position with Noah.

That probably wasn’t the best choice of words. The point was, I thought I learned from the first time down in the dungeon. That was supposed to be just a moment of crazy that exploded out of so much stress and tension. It was letting the pressure go and getting it all out. That meant I would be able to think more clearly. I wouldn’t let my confusing thoughts and emotions, and definitely not my attraction to him, take hold of me again.

And yet, there I was. Trying to work in a kitchen with a prep station I was never going to be able to look at the same way. How could I have possibly let that happen again? I talked this whole thing through with Holly. I laid it all out, and we both agreed Noah and I weren’t even going to talk about what happened, much less ever have an encore performance.

I couldn’t even figure out what started it. At least the first time, we’d been built up to a frenzy. We were both riled up and angry, pushed into close proximity to each other, and filled with unchecked… something. Whatever it was, it was definitely there. During that encounter, the heat building up between us throughout the argument was undeniable.


Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance