“Oh God,” she laughed, and I backed off. “I’m kidding,” I said, glancing back to the bar. It was busy, but nothing Karla and Hudson couldn’t handle.
“I hope that’s the last one liner.”
I held her gaze again and said matter of factly. “I’m afraid it might not be.”
It was like an electric current passed between us. Neither of us moved, or even blinked. Until her friend chose that moment to return.
“Sorry about that,” she hopped back on the stool. “Alanna,” she said. “You guys introduced yourselves already, I’m sure?”
I never took my eyes from her. Instead, I reached out my hand anticipating the touch as took it.
“Rachel,” she said as our hands clasped. I shook it firmly, but aggressively.
“But everyone calls her Rae,” Alanna said.
“Rae. I like it.”
Though our handshake had gone on just a bit longer than was necessary, we unfortunately broke apart.
“Marco,” I said, first to her and then glanced at the friend.
But when I looked back, Rae’s smile was gone. Eyes wide, she stared at me.
“Marco, as in Marco Grado?” she asked.
I cocked my head to the side. “You did your research,” I said, surprised. Most people had no idea who the owners were. But that didn’t explain the look on her face.
“That’s the one.”
She was actually disappointed. Rae turned to Alanna.
“Marco is one of the four owners of Grado Valley Vineyards,” she said.
Sure enough, Alanna’s good nature took a hike then too.
“Oh,” Alanna said, as if that was most definitely a bad thing.
What the hell was going on here?
“So,” Rae hedged. “I should probably explain.”
FOUR
rae
Shit,shit, and double shit.
It figured the incredibly hot, charming bartender wasn’t just a bartender. My mind was already racing with the question of how appropriate it would be to date the competition’s staff, not that he asked me out.
But it was coming. Hell, I was practically coming too.
When Alanna first pointed him out, my heart nearly stopped beating. Then he strode over to us, and I chided myself for being surprised. How many inspirational quotes and life-lesson videos did I have to watch to reinforce that, yes, I was indeed worth the attention of a guy like him?
I kept having to remind myself that I’d been on this earth for thirty years now. It was time to accept myself. Period. End of story.
Though it was hard to accept myself when I did flighty things likenotconsidering the Greek god behind the bar of a Grado Valley bar might just be one of the brothers. They were notoriously handsome. I even saw Antonio, Grado’s winemaker and presumable Marco’s brother, in a recent edition ofWinetastingwith his new red blend clearly hitting it out of the park.
Duh.