He actually started walking away. His ass in jeans should have been illegal.
“Marco.”
He turned. In my defense, no woman on earth wouldn’t follow him, the way he looked at me then. It was a tour, not a damned date.
“Fine,” I muttered, as if he’d actually twisted my arm.
We walked out the front door of the tasting room, Marco locking it up behind me.
“You told Neo at lunch that you had no idea Sunset wasn’t playing nice with its neighbors. Is that true?”
The cordial tone threw me. “It is. My father never wanted a vineyard and has no interest in running it. Jerry came to him with the idea after he and his now-separated wife saw it for sale one weekend. They live in Brooklyn and came to the Finger Lakes for a family wedding. Like my father, Jerry has his hands in a lot of different pots, but this one was the craziest of all his ideas. I’d just passed my level one test, and my father saw it as an opportunity for me.”
“Did he ask you first?”
I nearly stopped short. “What makes you ask that?”
Maroc shrugged. “I get the sense he didn’t.”
Direct. Intuitive.
“In fact, he didn’t. He surprised me with it as a ‘birthday gift.’ Said when I was ready, there was a vineyard waiting for me. As if I’d just passed my driving test and he was giving me a car.”
“Where are you from?”
“South Central PA. Went to school at Pitt and never moved back. My dad met Jerry in college at Penn State. Before my parents divorced, they used to go on an annual wine trip to Napa. I guess that’s how both of them became so interested in wine.”
Why the hell was I telling him my entire life story?
“So you were living in Western PA?”
“I was working as a public interest attorney, trying to get my federal loans repaid.”
The path to the cottages was nearly as adorable as the structures themselves. We’d left the main estate and walked along a cobblestone path. In front of us, I could see at least eight cottages tucked away between the woods.
“The log cabin ones on the lake are ours.”
He walked toward them.
“Min said you all live on property?”
“We do. My parents never moved here, they live outside of town. But as we came to work for the estate, it just made sense. Half of them have been renovated in the last five years.”
Weaving along another path, we made our way to the farthest cottage of them all. It butted up against the trees on our left to what I assumed was the edge of the property. “You have a lot of privacy here despite so many buildings.”
Marco began to walk up the steps of the log cabin cottage, and I blindly followed knowing it was a bad idea.
“We could have built more cottages, but maintaining privacy for each was important. My parents hoped at least some of us might end up here.”
“And you all did.”
“Yep. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” He gestured to the Adirondack chairs. What the heck? I was so surprised that, by the time he came back, two wines in hand, I was still standing.
“I promise you, it’s more comfortable to sit.”
“Marco, I can’t. I—”
“Have an appointment?”