by Claire Raye
“Pfft,” I say. “As if. You loved having me here, just like you do now.”
“Mmmm,” is all she says, before licking her fingers.
I reach for the bottle of wine to top up our glasses, anything to avoid reaching for her and sucking those fingers of hers into my own mouth. It’s amazing how crazy she can drive me without even trying.
“What?” I say, as I take a sip of wine and force my mind to stop thinking dirty thoughts. “Does it really bother you having me here?” I ask seriously, my smile gone now.
Lulu looks at me, her eyes meeting mine. She says nothing for what feels like forever and just when I’m starting to think I have seriously misread everything about us and this whole situation, she smiles, lifts her wine glass to her lips and says, “No, it doesn’t.”
I grin now, reaching over and clinking my glass against hers as I say, “Finally, she admits she likes me!”
Lulu laughs, even as she says, “Now, let’s not get too carried away.”
My smile widens. “Just stating the truth, Lu, that’s all.”
We continue eating in silence for a while, a relaxed calmness settling between us. Eventually though, I find myself asking her about one of the guys from earlier today, unable to control my curiosity over just what his deal is with her.
“So, this Tommy guy,” I start and Lulu immediately starts laughing.
“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re jealous,” she says, shaking her head at me.
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just wondering what his story is, that’s all. He seemed to get his panties in a wad about me being over at your house.”
Lulu grins at me and I can tell she loves the idea of me being annoyed by all of this. Shrugging, she says, “He’s just a little protective, that’s all.”
“Protective of what?” I ask. “Of you from me?”
Lu bursts out laughing as she reaches for the packet of Tim Tams. “You are jealous!”
I shake my head. “No I’m not,” I say even though the tone of my voice clearly indicates I am. “Just wondered that’s all. Did you guys used to date or something?”
Lu swipes under her eyes, as though this whole thing is hilarious to her. “No, Jack, we did not,” she says. “I don’t mix business with pleasure,” she adds, giving me a pointed look.
I’m not sure what she’s referring to, but I smile as I meet her stare and say, “First time for everything, Lulu.”
“I mean it, Jack,” she says. “Stay away from Penny.”
Now it’s me laughing as I shake my head at her. “Now who’s jealous?!”
“No,” she says, her voice stern. “It’s called being professional,” she adds.
I chuckle, reaching over and grabbing her hand and threading our fingers together. “Like I said, Lulu, you’re the one I like to flirt with,” I say, winking.
Lulu lets out a long breath, her hand curling into a fist in mine before she eventually pulls it away. “The same rule applies, Jack,” she says.
“Um hm,” I murmur, resting my chin on my hand, elbow propped on the bench. “Well, you should know, I do like a challenge.”
After dinner, we spend a couple of hours watching mindless TV together as we finish off the wine and the entire packet of Tim Tams. Eventually though, I realize I’m going to have to make a move, so I push up off the couch, before reaching for her hand and pulling her up too.
Before she has a chance to protest, I pull her into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around her shoulders.
“Thanks for a great night, Lulu,” I whisper, my mouth at her ear. I feel her body sag against mine, even as her hands remain in tight fists between us on my chest. Smiling, I can’t resist adding, “See how much fun it can be, hanging out together?” Before kissing her on the cheek and releasing her.
She stares up at me, her cheeks flushed as I grin down at her, brushing my fingers against her bare shoulder. Before she has a chance to tell me off, I add, “Goodnight,” before turning and walking out of her house.
My good mood evaporates quickly though, the second I get inside and glance at my laptop, sitting open on the dining table.
My email is open and there are several new ones sitting in my inbox. Most of them are from Melissa with subject headings like Where are you? and Please call me! One of them even says I went past your house…what the hell’s going on Jack?
Sighing, I delete all of them without bothering to open or read them. I don’t give a shit what she has to say to me, just like I’m not interested in telling her where I am either. She lost all right to that information a long time ago.
There’s another email from Matt too, asking pretty much the same thing, which I also delete.
The pair of them can go to hell, I think, as I contemplate grabbing another bottle of wine and heading back over to Lu’s house.
But I don’t, knowing I have no desire to explain all of this to her right now, regardless of how much I might want to hang out with her. So instead, I head to my room, strip off my clothes and climb into bed.
As I lie there, staring up the ceiling though, I can’t help but smile as I forget about all the shit going on back home and think back to Lu’s words; I don’t mix business with pleasure and how much fun I’m going to have convincing her that she should.
The next day, I’m lying under the crusher when I hear Lulu shout, “Jack?”
“In here,” I reply, without moving. I’m on my back underneath the huge machine, both hands on a wrench as I attempt to loosen the pump tap, which is probably clogged with so much shit I’m going to spend the whole afternoon cleaning it out.
I’m not sure which brainiac though jamming a broken crusher with more fruit was a good idea, but if Lulu doesn’t have words with them, I sure as fuck will.
It’s not only a waste of fruit, it’s fucked up my machine too.
“What are you doing?” comes her voice, closer now.
I look over and see her long, tanned legs, her hands on her hips as she stands there presumably watching me, the upper half of her body hidden from view.
“Yoga,” I reply sarcastically.
Even though I can’t see her face. I know she rolls her eyes at me. “Ha ha smart ass,” she says. “Do you think…”
“FUCK!” I suddenly shout, cutting her off as the relief valve finally gives and liters of rancid, week-old red grape juice gushes out of the crusher and all over me.
Almost immediately, Lulu starts pissing herself laughing, great heaving laughs that have her doubled over at the waist, hands on her knees.
Cursing, I yank on the wrench, shutting off the flow before dragging myself out from underneath the crusher. I’m fucking drenched and now purple thanks to all the shit in the tank.
Reaching for the nearby hose, I turn on the water so I can wash my face, all the while Lulu continues to laugh her arse off at me.
“You find this funny?” I ask as I scrub a hand over my face, flicking off the random stems that have somehow made it through the filter and contributed to the problem.
Lulu nods, barely able to speaks as she gets out a “Fuck yes,” between laughs.
I grin, stepping closer. “Oh, is that so?” I ask.
She nods, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. “Serves you right after what you did to me when we were kids,” she says, still hung up about me tackling her into the mud.
“What I did to you?” I ask, taking another step toward her.
“Uh huh,” she replies, hiccupping a little as her laughs start up again. “Karma’s a real bitch, isn’t it, Jack? Although to be fair, this is way better than mud,” she adds. “You’re fucking purple!”
She gestures toward my formerly white t-shirt as she once more dissolves into hysterical laughter. Grinning, I take another step closer.
“Speaking of karma,” I say and then before she has a chance to say anything more or even register what I’m about to do, I point the nozzle of the hose at her and turn the water back on, immediately soaking her in a blast of barely
warm water.
“JACK!” she screams, her voice high and her hands up as though that will somehow protect her or stop me.
Now it’s me laughing, giving her another dose of the spray so she’s properly drenched.
“Ahhh,” comes her scream as she jumps to the side, eyes closed as she scrambles to get past me.
“Not so fast, Lulu,” I say, grinning as I grab her arm and pull her close, turning the water on once again.
“Jack,” she shouts again in protest, her eyes scrunched closed as water falls over her and now drips from her hair, down her shoulders and over her tank top. The black material is stuck to her body, highlighting every single curve as a result. I can’t help but admire her, especially as the cold water has had a very sexy effect on her breasts too.
“What?” I ask, as though I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“You little shit,” she says, grabbing the hose from my hand and turning the water back on me now.
I burst out laughing, reaching for her again, but this time grabbing her wrist and hauling her against me. Her body crashes against mine, the hose still spraying us both with water.
“That’s a mighty fine view, Lulu,” I say, as my other hand moves to her waist and my eyes drop to her breasts.
“Jack,” she repeats, the word catching in her throat as she drops the hose. I watch as her eyes move to my chest and the wet t-shirt that’s now plastered to my skin.
“What?” I whisper, stepping even closer so our chests are almost touching. “Don’t tell me you aren’t admiring the view too?”
She swallows hard. “Let me go,” she murmurs, even as she makes no attempt to pull away.
I grin, licking my lips as I stare at her mouth. “You gonna apologize?”
Her eyes meet mine and she shakes her head.
“No?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
“No,” she repeats, the word barely audible.
My grin widens. “Okay then,” I say before lowering my head to hers, my eyes focused squarely on those parted full lips of hers.
“Aunt Lauren!” comes Oliva’s high-pitched voice, causing Lulu to immediately jump backward before my lips have a chance to reach hers.
I watch as she steps away from me, her hands running over her hips as though she’s somehow trying to straighten herself out, leaving me standing in the middle of the room wondering if that was really about to happen.
“Aunt Lauren?” comes Oliva’s voice again, closer this time.
“In here,” she calls out, her voice shaky.
Oliva walks in and stops when she sees both of us, soaking wet and me half purple.
“You look like Barney,” she says, pointing at me.
I chuckle, even as internally, my body is going haywire at the thought that I very nearly kissed Lulu.
“Yeah, I think I might need a shower,” I say, walking toward her.
As I do, I brush past Lu, ours arms touching as my fingers skim across the inside of her wrist, making her shudder.
“What do you think, Oliva?” I ask, arms out as I turn in a slow circle in front of her.
She crosses her arms over her chest as she stares up at me, her face solemn as she nods. “Definitely.”
Grinning, I step closer and slide both my hands over Oliva’s ears before looking back at Lu. “Just remember, Lu, you’re welcome to come join me,” I say, winking before removing my hands and walking out of the shed.
Chapter Eight
Lauren
Olivia is staring up at me wide-eyed and grinning as my heart races in my chest, my words trapped in my throat. I feel like there’s an electric current running though my body and every single nerve is on fire.
I almost kissed Jack and fuck me if it wouldn’t have been amazing.
I scrub my hands over my face trying to clear my head and stop myself from running after Jack. I’ve never wanted someone to kiss me as badly as I wanted Jack to just now. The way his body looked all muscled and tan, his t-shirt wet and clinging to him, accentuating every single part of his chest.
Hell, maybe Ellen is right? Maybe I do need a rebound? And who better to do that with than Jack. He’s not sticking around, and the likelihood of me getting attached is pretty much non-existent. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I won’t find myself in the same situation I did before.
“Mommy’s looking for you,” Olivia says, tugging on the bottom of my wet tank top. “Was Jack flirting with you again?” Her hands are on her hips now and her self-taught bitch face is in full effect.
Looking down at her, I can’t help but laugh as she glares at Jack’s back as he walks away.
She learned from the best of them and right now she looks exactly like me. Ellen is constantly reminding me to stop letting my face say what I’m thinking, but I fail miserably at it. Turns out it must be hereditary because Olivia is my soul mate when it comes to maintaining a solid chronic bitch face.
“Take it easy, killer,” I say teasingly, giving her braid a little pull as I reach for her hand and walk out of the shed with her to find Ellen.
I walk the property for a few minutes with Olivia and since we can’t find her immediately we start goofing around. If I’m being honest, I’m still avoiding Ellen and it’s not just because of her incessant teasing. I know the conversation is coming; the one where she reminds me to stop being so closed off and bitter, her words not mine.
After about thirty minutes of playing avoidance hide and seek with Olivia my phone chimes out with a text.
Ellen: Where are you?
Me: Out in the fields with Olivia.
Ellen: Meet me in your office?
Me: K
Ellen is sitting at my desk when I walk in, sorting through some papers and I’m sure squaring away payroll. She keeps that part of our business organized and running smoothly. Numbers have always been her strong suit and without her, this place wouldn’t run as smoothly.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I say to her as I walk in, keeping things casual and hoping she wants to discuss payroll or purchasing or something other than Jack.
“Hey, I’m sorry about the other day,” she says abruptly and I have no idea what she’s talking about. Guessing the look on my face indicates that because she continues. “I’m sorry I said you weren’t single by choice. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Ellen snaps back and I’m not sure what to say. “We do this thing where we joke about it and it shouldn’t be a joke. He fucked you up and you know it. It’s why you haven’t let anyone get close to you. It’s why you’re shutting Jack out.”
“I’m not shutting Jack out,” I defend. “I’m not interested in Jack.” The lie falls from my mouth so easily like a hot knife through butter.
Ellen nods her head, but the look on her face says she doesn’t believe me. I don’t even believe myself anymore.
“I’m just saying you should give him a chance. He’s not…” Ellen trails off, not wanting to say his name.
It’s become commonplace for neither of us to say it. In the beginning I just cried when anyone mentioned him. Then my sadness turned to anger, me snapping at anyone who talked about a wedding, getting married and anything to do with marriage. Weddings at the vineyard are still on hiatus.
“I hear you, Ellen, but…”
“You’re lonely,” she says, interrupting me.
“Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I’m lonely.”
“Whatever you say,” Ellen says, shrugging her shoulders. “I just want you to be happy and I know you’re not that.”
She’s right. I haven’t been happy in a long time, but I’m pretty certain I’m allowed to be unhappy. I don’t think there’s a hard and fast rule on when you get over being stood up at your own wedding.
“I know and I’ll get there,” I say, reassuring her and myself.
It’s Jack’s accent that cuts through our conversation. He’s back in the adjoining tasti
ng room, and back at it with my customers and Penny.
I roll my eyes and Ellen laughs.
“See, you really think I’d be interested in that? He’s out there flirting with Penny now. It’s just what he does.” My hand flits at the door and Ellen laughs again.
“He’s flirting with Penny to get your attention.”
“Oh my god, you sound just like Mom.”
Ellen and I walk out of my office just as Tommy is walking up. Stopping us, he begins to fill us in on a few issues that have arisen with one our crushers being down. Production is behind and we only have a few more weeks before we run out of the cabernet we produce on the property. While this isn’t a huge disaster, it’s enough to put us a little on edge.
Tourist season is almost in full swing and what kind of winery are we if we run out of one of our biggest sellers? The whole process usually takes us at least twelve weeks and with our main machine down, we need to come up with plan B.
“Off-site?” Ellen suggests and it’s really our only option.
We use an off-site co-packer to produce some of our cheaper wines and until this crusher is fixed it looks like this is it. The quality won’t be nearly as good, but it’ll sell.
Ellen heads back into my office to make some calls and see if our co-packer even has the capacity or the room to add another wine to our production schedule.
I turn, my eyes catching Jack through the window of the tasting room. He’s behind the counter with Penny and they’re laughing and chatting with customers.
“Lauren?” Tommy calls despite me standing next to him. He’s obviously been calling my name.
“Yeah?” I respond, turning back toward Tommy.
“You okay?” The sympathy is in his eyes. He was there when it all went to shit. It was Tommy’s sister who filled in for me when I couldn’t get out of bed. He’s been a part of this company since Ellen and I took over and he’s as loyal as they come. But even more than being loyal he watched me fall apart and he was there to pick up the pieces. Without Tommy this place would’ve gone under when my life was at its lowest point.
