“Nope.”
“With leggings?” Her favorite attire.
“Nope.”
“Jeans? You must wear them with jeans.”
“Nope.”
Holy fuck. I couldn’t do this right now.
“I’ll be back,” I said, hoping against hope Thayle could manage to dress for bed herself.
Luckily, when I got back, she was just getting into bed. Her black dress had been tossed on top of her luggage.
“Here,” I said, handing her a water bottle. “Drink up.”
She looked at me through those thick black lashes as she sipped the water. “I had fun tonight.”
“I did too.” And I meant it. When she finished drinking, I took the water bottle from her. “Time for bed.”
Though Thayle didn’t argue as she got under the covers, she did look at me as if to say,We have unfinished business. I wasn’t surprised, though, when a few seconds later her head hit the pillow and she promptly fell asleep.
By the time I was settled on the cot, certain I’d follow Thayle into a quick slumber, I was surprised to find myself unable to do so. It had been one hell of a night that answered some questions but raised others.
A week ago, news that Sarah Gibson was coming to Grado would have been the best thing that had ever happened to me. When my father’s best friend, also a Grado winemaker, had a heart attack and died among the very vines he’d always said “gave him life,” I wasn’t sure I was ready. Being our solo winemaker at twenty-eight was a tall order, and it hadn’t seemed to matter that I’d already been making wine for twelve years. Moving from apprentice to head winemaker overnight had scared the shit out of me. But I had my family to lean on, to give me the confidence that had still been lacking in me at the time. This visit was, in some ways, not only the culmination of everything I’d learned, but also a way to honor my parents and siblings, who’d lifted me up when I needed it. Who worked their asses off day in and day out to put Grado Valley Vineyards on the map.
And I was thrilled about the British wine critic, if not a little nervous too. Yet, for all of the celebrating, there was only really one thing that continued to put a smile on my face even now, hours later.
I’d rather watch you eat yours.
The words were out of my mouth before I’d fully processed that I was saying them. It had just felt right. If I needed to walk them back, I would have. Instead, Thayle’s shock quickly turned into something else. The cake incident, as I’d forever think of it, had changed everything. Now I was rehashing every moment of the last few days in my head. More than that. The last few years, since I’d come back to Grado after college. There had never been any hint of interest on her part, but then again, I hadn’t shown any myself.
My mind wandered with the possibilities, and I was surprised to hear the click of a door.
Opening my eyes, not remembering having fallen asleep, though it was definitely morning, I sat up in the cot and looked at the bed. Empty. Thayle was in the shower.
Fuck me, but what I wouldn’t give to join her. That would be pushing it, cake incident aside, so I got up and grabbed my bag. Rather than sitting here imagining every single thing that was happening behind that door, I headed to the spa, which the attendant had said we could use throughout our stay. Freshly showered, I headed back to find my roommate packed and ready to go.
“You look like a celebrity who doesn’t want to be recognized,” I said, walking into the room. Thayle wore a Grado baseball cap and sunglasses, despite the fact that we were still indoors. “Sun too bright in here?” I closed the shades.
“Funny.” She watched as I packed up my things. “If you saw my eyes right now, you’d understand. I need to hit a pharmacy for sure.”
“For?”
“Eye drops.”
I tossed in my toiletry bag from the bathroom, zipped up the duffle bag and tried not to laugh. I wasn’t surprised that Thayle hurt this morning. I had a bit of a headache myself.
“We’ll toss this in the car and head downtown. Cos and Brooke didn’t schedule anything until 2:30, at Long Point in Cayuga. I know you love those little shops.”
“Don’t sound so excited about it,” she said as I grabbed her luggage. Thayle didn’t even protest, which meant she was really feeling kind of rough.
“I can’t say it’s my favorite activity in the world,” I said, “but I’m game. If it weren’t for you, I’d be doing this tour solo. Definitely not as much fun.”
She didn’t say anything to that. I wasn’t sure if Thayle didn’t take the bait because she was tired, hungover, embarrassed, or full-on regretted the cake incident, so I didn’t push it. If we were back to being friends only, that was fine. For this morning, at least.
“Already checked out,” I told her as we passed the front desk.