I breathe slowly to regain my composure, and give my answer some thought. Is it wise to leave with a guy I just met, in a strange place? I blink and chastise myself for over thinking. This is exactly how people meet all of the time, and I shouldn’t be worried. If dinner sucks, I can just head home and never see him again. If it goes well, at least I will have had a nice encounter with a new guy that I don't have to see again.
That seems like a win-win, in my book.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I turn around, causing his hand to slide down my back slowly to rest at my waist. “Walk me to my car so I can put this bag away?”
“That’s quite the bag. What’s it for?” He takes the handle of my fifty-pound kit and drags it across the tasting room for me.
“That kit holds the tricks of my trade. Inside there are magic wands, potions, and all sorts of pixie dust.” I smile mischievously, thinking of my roommate Willa’s descriptions for the “magic” I work on my clients. I laugh at the confused look on Talan’s face when he stares at the black kit he’s dragging into the parking lot. “Relax, it’s full of makeup and hair products, not eye of newt or gillyweed. I was working the McCarthy-Abbott wedding today. I got Sheila and her bridal party ready. I’m a hair and makeup artist.”
“Ahh, the beautiful girl is in the beauty business. Makes sense now. If I were a woman, I would want the prettiest person I could find to make me up, too. I feel like you would have better odds of getting a good look that way.”
I laugh, imagining him as a woman, and point him toward my light turquoise Mini Cooper. He easily loads the kit into the back and leans against the hatch once he’s closed it.
“Your car is safe to keep here. Ride with me to dinner.” It’s not so much a question as a demand.
I look at the car, then around the packed parking lot. With the wedding tonight, I know there will be people here until at least midnight. It should be fine to go with him for a few hours, but what if things don’t go well? Having a car handy will make my escape easier.
“No, I think I will follow you. I can head home from wherever we eat, rather than have to come back here first.”
“Smart girl. I can appreciate your thinking, and putting your safety first. But you should know you are going to miss out on the thrill of a motorcycle ride. I was going to put you on the back of my Ducati Devalia and rev the engine until you screamed.” He leaves me at the car to walk a few spaces over to a sleek black motorcycle that must be the Ducati whatever he mentioned.
Seriously? This guy just keeps getting better. But if he thinks I would have climbed on the back of a motorcycle in this dress, he’s not as sharp as I had hoped. I shake my head, climb into the Mini, and wait for him to lead me to our destination.
I never imagined I would find motorcycles sexy, but following Talan gives me a whole new appreciation for the things. They are still scary as hell, but I could definitely see myself holding on tight while he drove us through mile after mile of the vineyards that dot the Sonoma landscape.
I barely have time to admire Talan on the motorcycle, because before we even get to the main drive out of the winery, he is turning down a side road that leads further into the property. Curious, I follow him up a hill and my jaw drops as a giant house appears at the top. It’s a two-story Mediterranean style masterpiece, and absolutely beautiful. It overlooks the winery, and has a stunning view of the Sonoma Valley with the bright sun casting a magical golden glow over everything.
“What is this place?” I ask Talan as I get out of the car and spin around with my arms outstretched.
“This is where we are having dinner.” He tucks his helmet under his arm and holds his free hand out in invitation for me to join him. This can’t be his house. How would a bartender even begin to afford this?
I cross my arms over my chest and refuse to move toward him. This isn’t what I had in mind. “A bit presumptuous to bring me home instead of taking me to dinner as promised, isn’t it?”
“Who said this is my house?” He laughs when I glance at him warily. “I thought you wanted mystery, but I guess I’ll explain. This is part of the winery. We host special events here when the vineyard and wedding banquet areas aren’t what our clients are looking for. It’s more private, and obviously has a stunning view. I happen to know it’s currently stocked with food from an event I worked last night, and I was hoping you would join me for a picnic.”
Oh. Well that sounds a lot nicer than what I had imagined was going to happen. How is it every time I start making assumptions about Talan, he finds a way to correct my thinking and usually makes it better than I hoped? I guess my stupid, overactive imagination is running away with me again. I’ve gotten myself into trouble on more than one occasion, thanks to reacting to what I imagined was going on, rather than reality.
I drop my arms and slowly walk to Talan, feeling shy and out of place. I don’t know what to think about him now. I thought I had him pegged, but obviously I have been wrong. I twist a piece of my hair and brush my cheek with the ends, a childhood habit I still can’t kick.
“A picnic sounds nice.” I manage to smile through my initial hesitation when I make my way to his side.
Talan opens the massive front door for me and flips a switch to light the interior. Intricate shadows from the sun passing through the glass and wrought iron door create an enchanted pathway on the glossy dark floors. The grand entryway opens to a beautiful, sweeping dark wood staircase with more swirly ironwork on the banister. There are rooms off either side of the entry. To the left there is a big room with windows that reach the cathedral ceilings, allowing light to spill through and illuminate the built in bookcases. Buttery soft looking leather couches are grouped in front of a giant stacked stone fireplace with a rustic mantle running the length of it.
To the right there is a formal dining room that continues the Mediterranean-meets-rustic vibe. At least ten linen upholstered chairs surround the long farm table under a massive steel orb chandelier. Subtle warm-toned landscapes of vineyards and farms are mounted to the walls with directional lighting making them glow.
“Impressive, isn’t it? The winery went all out to make this place a showstopper. Now…” Talan’s low voice is pure honey as he steps behind me to rest his hands on my shoulders. “We can continue on our tour.”
I let him gently push me forward, his fingers lightly massaging my bare skin. We pass through the arch made by the staircase and under the landing above into what has to be the coolest great room I’ve ever seen. The same theme continues in here, but the feel is decidedly less formal and much more inviting. There are more comfy looking leather couches grouped to the right, and a massive flat screen TV mounted to a wall that is covered with stacked stones in warm beiges. Old trunks used as side tables are holding lamps and colorful leather bound books in between the couches. There’s a built in bookcase to my right that holds an impressive selection of board games, books, and pieces of metal art that I’m dying to take a closer look at. Funky art makes me happy.
To our left is a huge eat in kitchen that is simply to-die-for, and I don’t even cook. Unless you count ramen and simple sandwiches, which I don’t. A long island separates the kitchen space from the eating area, which has another rustic farm table with benches on either side. A set of French doors and uninterrupted windows that stretch the height of the room adorn the back wall. Outside, there is a large flagstone patio with more seating, and beyond that, a huge landscaped yard that looks out on the vineyard below.
I can’t even fathom the kind of money it would take to live in a place like this. My job takes me into nice homes all the time, but this is something else. It’s a resort and the perfect home rolled into a Tuscan-style villa that apparently nobody even lives in.
Talan lets go of my shoulders and makes his way into the kitchen. I feel the loss of his touch and frown, but greedily follow his movements with my eyes. He opens cabinets and drawers to get plates and utensils, then makes his way to the refrigerator. I can see he wa
sn’t kidding when he said this place was stocked from an event last night. He pulls out dish after dish, setting everything on the island until he is satisfied he has what he needs. I head over to lean on the other side of the island to watch him.
He opens the dishes and begins to fill the plates with meats, cheeses, pasta salad, and roasted vegetables. He slices a crusty baguette with practiced ease. He’s so at home here in this kitchen. I wonder if he works events here often, or mainly works in the tasting room.
“All of this looking good?” Talan gestures to the spread on the counter before he bends over to look for something in a cabinet under the island.
“Um, yeah.” I tilt my head a little to get a better view of his ass, which is on perfect display in dark jeans that strain in his current position. He’s pretty.
He straightens, holding a wooden platter big enough to hold our plates, and catches me checking him out. Instead of calling me out, he just smirks and continues with his food preparation.
“You can head outside, I’ll follow you in a minute. Grab a blanket from the basket by the doors and pick our picnic spot.” Talan points to the French doors while grabbing a bottle of wine from the cooler beneath the counter.
I tap my fingers on the granite and purse my lips. I want to spend more time watching him, but I might as well explore the yard. I push off and stroll over to the French doors. I grab a large tartan blanket from the basket as I push my way out into the warm late summer air.
Large oak trees stretch giant limbs across the patio, intersecting to create a natural arbor that casts dappled shade over the area. This place is pure magic.
A crystal clear pool with an infinity edge is perched on the very edge of the hill, and sparkles invitingly in the early evening light. I wind my way through the paths, letting my fingers skate over lavender and sage and rosemary. I step off the path and onto the lawn, kicking off my sandals to enjoy the feel of my bare feet in the warm grass. I spread the blanket open in a spot that has a fantastic view of the sun that has started its descent into the western hills.
I lie back and look up at the cloudless sky, warmed by the sun, and wonder how I ended up here. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was having dinner with a douchey guy I’ve been seeing because he’s comfortable, not because he makes me feel anything special. One on-location job at a perfect vineyard led to a date with a guy I know nothing about, but find more intriguing than Dillon ever was. I don't know what to do with a new guy who is proving to be just a little bit surprising, and a whole lot mysterious after spending six months seeing someone who was harmless and boring. What will tomorrow bring?
Thankfully, my introspection is interrupted by Talan setting the wooden platter full of food in the middle of the blanket. He lounges next to me, barefoot as well, with a soft look in his eyes that haven’t left me since he sat down.
“Don’t sit up just yet.” He holds his hand out to stop me as I push up onto my elbows. “You look lovely stretched out like that.”
I stay on my elbows and give him a mock frown. “You like girls on their backs, Talan?” I’m not sure why I say it like that, but I know I’ve taken us right back into the flirtation we started at the tasting room.
He shrugs. “If that’s what she likes. I actually prefer a woman to do what makes her feel best; on her back, on top, turned around. It all feels good, and better when she’s enjoying herself.” A wolfish smile lights up his face as he plays right along with the flirtation I’ve reintroduced.
Our blatant sexual innuendo is heading down a dark and scary path and I can see where it will inevitably end. I sit up all the way and hope my flaming cheeks aren’t too noticeable. Thankfully, Talan doesn’t continue to tease my libido.
“I hope you like cold leftovers. I started piling things on the plates before I considered if some of it should be reheated.” He shrugs again and looks at the food. “I figured picnics are intended for cold food, so I just went with it.”
I take a plate and a rolled up napkin containing real silverware. If I had planned a picnic, I would have brought plastic utensils and whatever I could pick up at a grocery store. Not gourmet leftovers served on good plates and real silver. I could never afford it, but I would love this to be my life.
“How long have you worked here at the winery?” I ask Talan while I pick at my plate. A cherry tomato bursts in my mouth, the juice spilling down my chin. Smooth. I hastily dab my face with my napkin and hope Talan didn’t notice. Of course he’s staring right at me, a smile stretching his face, when I check.
“Juicy.” He licks his lips.
I feel my waning blush creep up my neck again. He spares me when he answers my question.
“I’ve been with the winery since the beginning of their rebranding from Cotton Creek to Villa Sonoma, so about three years now. The winery was struggling to produce anything decent when I came on, and it’s been great to see the changes happen over the years. I think the winery has really turned around. Adding this villa and the banquet space down at the barn by the tasting room made it a wedding hotspot. Is this the first time you’ve been out here?”
“Yeah. I’ve been to a few wineries in the area, but never this one. I think it’s my favorite. I want to live in this place.” I can’t help the wistful note in my voice because, come on, this is a dream.
Talan uncorks a bottle of wine and pours two glasses. “I’m glad it’s your favorite. I would be jealous of any other winery that received that designation.”
“I guess you say that to every customer you pour for.” I lift my glass for him to clink against.
“To new beginnings.” Talan holds his glass out to mine, his eyes softly crinkling at the corners as he smiles.
“Cheers.” I take a sip of the chilled wine, my nose creasing from the effervescence. It’s the same sweet and crisp white he served me at the tasting room earlier. I like it well enough, but wonder if the winery makes other wines worth trying.
Talan takes a sip of his wine, his eyes staying on my face the entire time. “You give me so little credit, Bliss. True, I want anyone who comes here to love the winery as much as I do, but that’s not it. You see, when I like something, like this winery, I want the best for it, which means the preferred spot in a beautiful woman’s heart means a lot to me.”
I brush my hair into my face as I cover my mouth to keep my laughter at bay. I don’t mean to laugh at him; he’s just too cute. “Talan, you are so passionate about your job. I like that.”
Talan lowers his glass of wine after taking a sip, which he holds in his mouth before swallowing. He has a serious look on his face while he considers me. He breaks eye contact after a moment, a smile playing around his lips. “So who do you work for, Bliss? Are you as passionate about what you do?”
I swallow my mouthful of wine, the sweet taste sliding away as I think of The Vaughn Group. “I work for a salon in San Francisco. They have an agency that sends me out on location for weddings and events. It’s pretty great to do what I love, but it sucks knowing over half of my service fees are returning to the salon, instead of going to me. I mean, I’m the one out here at the crack of dawn working my ass off to make it happen.” I look down for a moment and feel the need to explain my complaints. “I’ve been dreaming for the last year of going out on my own as a freelancer. I have actually already set up a website and started booking a few jobs here and there on my own. I’m pretty sure the salon would kill me if they knew, but I want it so bad it’s worth the risk.”
The hint of pride in my voice is tempered by the fear I feel about admitting this. It’s scary to say I want to leave my stable salon job and work for myself. Who knows if it will ever happen, but it’s fun to dream about.
“It would be awesome if you would refer my services to brides who book this venue.” I laugh, not sure how much sway he could possibly have.
“I can see about that, no promises though. Not sure what a bartender can do.” Talan actually laughs, which eases my nerves. He’s got a great laugh, husky and
full. It makes me smile for no good reason, and swells my heart a little. “You should really do it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I can see your passion. It’s evident how much you love your job. If you can make it work outside of a salon, why wouldn’t you? What’s that phrase? ‘Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life’? Make that happen.”
I take a bite of pasta and chew thoughtfully. “It’s intimidating to leave the security of the salon. I’ve been there for three years. The other stylists are like family. I mean, maybe the worst part is that I hate my boss and the commission structure, but who doesn’t? That’s why it’s called work.”
“You have to take big risks to get big rewards. If you do your own thing, you can be your own boss. You wouldn’t have to hate anything. Life’s too short to go through it hating who you work for. Besides, who wouldn’t work less hours for double the pay?”
Wow. This guy is something else. He’s incredibly supportive for someone I just met. I like his blind faith in me. I could suck donkey balls for all he knows of my actual work. I decide I have to take the conversation in a different direction before he melts me into a puddle.
“You’re sweet, but you’re proving to not be as sharp and dangerous as I had first imagined, even though you are quite mysterious. I have to say I’m a little disappointed. You see, I’ve got this thing for predictable and comfortable. I sort of thought you would shake things up.”
“You want unpredictable?” His quiet voice alarms me.
I feel the need to backtrack quickly, unsure what he intended with his comment. “No, I like predictable. I thought you weren’t—” Before I can say any more, he’s lifted me off the blanket and tossed me over his shoulder. “Talan, oh my God, you’re totally flashing my underwear to the whole valley. Put me down!” I try desperately to cover my exposed underwear with one hand as I cling to him with the other. It’s not easy as he bounces me along, my stomach squashed against his shoulder and my bare thighs caught by his arm. Did he just run his thumb along the crease under my butt cheek?
A Taste of Bliss Page 2
