“Another fun Cosimo fact,” Marco said as I pulled another bottle from behind me. “Did he tell you he took ballet?”
I opened the bottle without blinking. Marco loved telling everyone that fact. By now he should have realized it didn’t bother me. But he still tried to rile me anyway.
“Seriously?” Brooke asked.
“Seriously,” Marco said, giving me a generous pour knowing it was a favorite of mine. He slid the glass toward me.
And that was my brother in a nutshell. One second, attempting to embarrass me. And in the next, doing something so subtly thoughtful that it took years to even notice he was being kind. As if being kind was a sign of weakness. Someday Marco just might actually mature enough to realize sharing vulnerabilities was a strength, not a weakness. But that day was not today.
“No one forced him into it either. Took it for what, Cos? Five years?”
“Six,” I said. “Helped with football.”
“I think it’s incredibly cool,” Brooke said. “Do you still like to dance?”
“I do,” I said, trying hard not to think about our kiss. If Marco hadn’t interrupted, I had no doubt in my mind neither of us would have stopped. Despite how utterly terrible of an idea it was, having sex with someone who worked for me.
“And what do you do,” Brooke asked Marco, “aside from trying to embarrass your brother and failing miserably at it?”
Brooke said the words so casually, neither Marco nor I fully registered them for a hot second. When we did, he burst out laughing while I stared at her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again for defending me. And because it was one hell of a kiss.
“Now where were we?” I asked when Marco continued to laugh, unable to answer.
“Taste. We were talking about how to properly taste the wine,” she said. To which Marco burst out in a fresh laughing fit, shaking his head.
“I’m sure you were,” he muttered.
Even I smiled at that one.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
brooke
Two weeks.
Fourteen days.
I could probably count the hours too, but honestly, I was too tired. I just knew this outing was exactly what I needed. The second Thayle had mentioned heading to the bar in town for a change of scenery, I was on it like a fly on honey. Or was it a bee on honey?
I had no idea. But what I did know was that, after this past July 4th weekend, I was looking forward to having the day off tomorrow. And getting away from GVV.
Getting away fromhim.
It had been impossible to ignore him completely. Even though Cos locked himself in the office half the day, our paths crossed in the tasting room. Luckily Grado’s admin and logistics lead, Maci, had helped Dominica with events in the past. And though Min typically took the lead on them, Maci and Min tag-teamed big ones, like this Harvest Festival. A forty-eight-year old, divorced mother of two teen boys, Maci was also one of the nicest people I’d ever met.
Even though I was able to coordinate with Maci most often, I had to speak with Cos about my new job from time to time. After the Marco incident, we never talked about the kiss. Not once. Cos had pulled me aside that day afterward, and I’d been sure he would say something about what happened. Instead, he just asked if I was okay.
Wasn’t the answer obvious? No. I wasn’t okay at all. The only thing that kiss accomplished was stoking my desire for him to the point of no return. I could not look at him now without seeing behind those glasses. Which I was now certain he used to differentiate himself from his brothers. Not that I’d go so far as to accuse Cosimo of hiding behind them—though no one could blame him if he had wanted to hide. It was no secret the weight of his position and the expectations placed on him as Grado’s proprietor contributed significantly to his stress. But that day, in that moment, he’d let go. For once.
And I wanted him to do it again.
Of course, he couldn’t. Shouldn’t. Which was why I was not encouraging such foolery. I avoided him as much as possible, even pretended not to see him walking down to his house. As if I didn’t lie in bed replaying his kiss in my mind as if it were the most epic of all Netflix binge watches. I texted my friends. Dove headfirst into what a wine harvest festival should be like, worked the tasting room when needed and, most enjoyable of all, took my coffee every morning out on the balcony of my temporary office and breathed in the fresh air.
I dreamt of what it would be like to stay and not go back to the city. Dangerous thoughts, which nearly always led to even more dangerous ones. Jena’s job. One I was more than qualified for, especially after I finished working the winery this summer. If I applied for that job, what would that mean for me and Cos?
“Two light drafts, on the house.” Thayle slid one of those drafts over to me.
“On the house?” I asked.