Fast Lane

by Margot Radcliffe

  “You trying to get me out of here?” Cole demanded, giving her a fake pout. “I thought we were having a good time.”

  She looked up at him, her own slice of pear in hand. “I’d never. I just don’t want you to think I’m being lax in my tasting duties by letting you simmer on one for too long. We’re off book now so I’m just trying to make sure you’re happy.”

  “It might be because you’re overserving me, but I think you’re doing a great job. Don’t worry about little old Cole here, I’d be fine if you poured me unsweetened tea and served dirt all day just as long as you keep smiling at me like you mean it.”

  Blair met his eyes, having been caught off guard by his candor for about the tenth time today. He was definitely the most charming man she’d ever met, but he was hiding pain just like she was. She recognized the same self-loathing in him she’d been carrying around.

  “Have I smiled at you?” Blair asked, skeptically even as her cheeks hurt from months of disuse. “I don’t recall that. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about glasses. It would probably help with your job too, for all viewers know you’re just out there calling out random names of racers who don’t exist.”

  Cole chuckled, sidling even closer to her as he lifted a slice of pear from his plate. “If I admit I’m attracted to you first, will you feel safe to do the same?”

  “It doesn’t matter if I’m attracted to you or not,” Blair told him honestly. “I’m not going to sleep with you because I’m done with men.” She pulled his empty glass over and poured the chardonnay, then put some aged cheddar on his plate along with an apple slice to join the peaches and pears.

  “So you are attracted to me then?” he persisted, ignoring the wine refill to focus on her.

  “Of course,” she admitted. “You’re an attractive person, but,” she warned, lifting a fork in between them as a mock weapon, “I’m not interested, which means you should take your big self and step back at least a good foot or so.”

  Grinning wildly, he took a large step back. “Like this?”

  She gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up. “And just stay there.”

  “But I can’t smell you from here,” he complained. “And my wine is too far away now.”

  She slid the wine down on the counter and looked at him pointedly.

  “Did you bake sugar cookies earlier or something? You smell like vanilla.”

  Blair’s eyes rolled heavenward. “I don’t bake. I leave that for my friend Greta who is so deep into her cottagecore lifestyle I’ve had to purchase a separate wardrobe for all the knitted sweaters she’s gifted me. Now quit smelling me. It’s weird. You’re here to smell wine only.”

  His nose crinkled adorably in displeasure, but he remained where he was. “Okay, but do you have any cookies then?”

  She just shook her head. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m going to have to end this tasting early.”

  “That would be fine if you’d agree to come to dinner with me instead.”

  “You know that’s a bad idea.”

  “I do not know that,” he argued, his eyes locking on hers. “I’ve had plenty of bad ideas in my life, some that would make your hair curl, but I don’t think this is one of them.”

  “When do you leave town?” she asked.

  “Two days from now.”

  She just raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sleeping with you, Mr. Taggart.”

  “Now you’re just doing that to irritate me and pretend we’re not fast friends. I asked you to call me Cole but you won’t.”

  “You’re a customer and you’ve been calling me Miz Sandoval this entire time. I was just returning the courtesy.”

  He took a drink of his chardonnay and regarded her. “I want to get back to the matter at hand, but I think you might have just made me a white wine convert.”

  Blair laughed and nodded to the cheddar and apple. “Try those together and then take a taste of the wine.”

  He followed her directions and both his eyebrows rose. “Now that’s good living.” Then before Blair realized what he was doing, he’d reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her slowly toward him.

  “What are you doing?” she exclaimed, trying to dig her feet in. It probably would have worked, too, if she’d actually been serious about it.

  “You told me I had to stay away, you didn’t say anything about you coming closer.” He grinned, but he did let her hand go, which meant she could get away if she wanted to. But her feet didn’t move. He took a deep breath and said, “That’s better.”

  “You are not right,” she told him and moved a step away to pour herself her own glass of the chardonnay. The cheddar had breathed and was warm and sharp in her mouth along with the sweet tart apple so that when she finally took a sip of the chardonnay her eyes drifted closed in pleasure. She wasn’t a wine snob like a lot of the viticulturists in wine country, but there was little better than a light meal of charcuterie and wine after a day in the sun.

  “You’re making it really difficult for me not to one, flirt with you, and two, touch you, Blair,” Cole admonished, his eyes adorably beseeching. “So if you could throw me a bone and stop also eating and drinking so sexy-ish I’d surely appreciate it.”

  “I’ve done no such thing,” she told him, offended, crossing her arms over her chest.

  He huffed a laugh. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Do you eat like that in front of all your customers?” He proceeded to do an exaggerated impression of her eating, his lips smacking, eyelashes fluttering, topped off with an obscene sigh of pleasure.

  Ignoring his display and instead taking his empty glass, she poured in a good bit of rosé. “You don’t deserve this wine, but if you like this then we’ll know you’ve been fully converted.” As he swirled it, she said, “You can pair this with goat or cheddar cheese and strawberries or blackberries.” She pushed over the bowl of berries to him as well. He ate again, which was a mistake, as he watched her the entire time. But she wasn’t going to give in again. Flirting time was over. Even if he was cute and fun and nice. And lovely and attractive and a gentleman.

  Blair didn’t trust herself to pick a good and honest man anymore. And one who’d already admitted to sleeping with women he never called again and who went from country to country for his job and could have four different families for all she knew? Nope, that was the definition of a bad idea.

  Her gaze drifted back to his left hand where there, again, was absolutely no trace of a tan line. Maybe he was an actual decent person, though.

  But no, that line of thinking was madness and she wasn’t even over being mad about her last breakup. She couldn’t go throwing herself into a meaningless affair with a stranger. No matter how much she might want to.

  Then he ate a strawberry, his straight white teeth slowly piercing the lush red flesh and she felt herself melting a little. He was so dangerous.

  “So what’s the verdict on the rosé?” she asked.

  A corner of his wide mouth kicked up. “Oh, I definitely like it too.” He popped another strawberry into his mouth before bringing the glass to his lips again. “But I guess we’ll see what happens during the rest of the tasting if I go back to preferring reds.”

  “I guess so,” she agreed, organizing the bottles of red they used for sampling as well as the special bottle she’d opened earlier, which she poured into a decanter. She was saving it for last so that would be more than enough time for it to fully aerate and any sediment to drop to the bottom. It was an older bottle of wine, from one of their very best years and she was practically giddy to drink it.

  “Now that I’ve dutifully gone along with your subject change and not flirted with you for at least five minutes,” Cole said, resting his glass on the counter and hijacking her attention, “let’s talk about that dinner.”

  Blair took a long drink of the rosé. She’d been wrong earlier, because
this was obviously going to be the longest wine tasting of her life.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I THOUGHT I had you beat earlier,” Nate told Cole, laughing as he took a canapé from a passing tray. “Gotta work on my putting game some more but it’s hard to get away from here on the weekends.”

  “You weren’t so bad,” Cole laughed, giving him a friendly slap on the back, “for someone with a thousand handicap.” Cole had even taken it easy on the guy because he genuinely liked Nate, but the guy was not a master golfer.

  Nate chuckled and Cole grabbed a couple of the crostini slices from the next waiter and popped them into his mouth. Normally, he’d never come to a party at a winery with a bunch of hoity-toity people he didn’t know, but the possibility of spending more time with Blair before he took off again had been too appealing. She’d firmly refused to have dinner with him yesterday after the tasting and he’d had little recourse other than to show up at the party, hoping he’d see her again and get her to admit there was something between them. Because despite his best efforts he hadn’t stopped thinking about her whatsoever.

  “Do you want me to introduce you to some other winery owners? I know a couple who would love to give you more information on opening up your own,” Nate mentioned. “We inherited this from our parents so we can’t really speak to the start-up, but there are plenty of newbies here who are already doing well that could provide that kind of insight for you.”

  “Thanks, man, I appreciate that. Maybe shoot me their email addresses,” Cole suggested. “To be honest I’m more interested in talking to your sister at the moment. She knows a shit-ton about growing and it made me realize just how much goes into it. I still have some more questions from yesterday. Does she happen to be here somewhere?”

  Nate rolled his eyes just like an older brother. “I doubt it,” he griped. “She was around earlier but she normally makes an obligatory appearance at these things and then she’s out of here as soon as possible.”

  Well, that was information that would have been helpful before he’d shown up an hour later than the start time, having been held up doing some last-minute voice-overs at the track.

  “She lives just right up the road, though, if it’s important. I can call her back,” Nate offered, his look saying he’d clearly love the opportunity to annoy his sister. “You’re not the first person to ask about her. She’s become the name and face associated with the company so people generally like to pick her brain, but lately she’s been keeping a low profile.”

  The why of that was still a story he wanted to know. “You know what, why don’t I just go ahead over to her place? She mentioned that she had a bottle of pinot noir she thought I would like, and after that fantastic tasting yesterday I’d love to get my hands on it before I head out of town.”

  Nate opened his mouth, probably to say that they were currently in the winery full of all the wine Cole could possibly need, but he got the message fairly easily. “She’s up the main road and take the first left until you get to the white farmhouse.”

  Cole nodded. “I appreciate it, man.”

  Nate’s eyes narrowed in speculation before he dropped his own hand on Cole’s shoulder. An echo of what Cole had done earlier yet not quite as friendly and heading more into warning territory. “I understand that my sister is an adult but I’ll be damned if anyone else messes with her. She’s going through a rough time right now and I wouldn’t be doing my brotherly duty if I didn’t tell you to proceed with caution.”

  Cole nodded, strangely pleased Nate had his sister’s back. He’d do the same for his own sister if she’d been in Blair’s position. He also wondered more about the rough time and if it was about the breakup she’d mentioned yesterday.

  “I’m not that guy anymore,” Cole told him, referring to the fact that two years ago he wouldn’t be caught dead at a fancy winery party mostly because he would have been at the nearest bar getting shit-faced before sleeping with whoever wanted to come back to his hotel. But his old life seemed like something that happened to another person at this point. His entire existence was divided into before and after the crash. “And she’d bust my balls if I tried anything anyway,” Cole said with a laugh.

  Nate grinned. “Well, you’ve gotten to know her then at least.”

  “She’s a singular woman, your sister,” Cole told him. “I’ll let her know her presence was missed.”

  Nate just shook his head as Cole turned to the exit. “I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

  In his car, Cole wondered just what the hell he was doing by going to Blair’s house, what endgame was he hurtling toward exactly? If something happened with Blair, it couldn’t go anywhere. Maybe that was what was driving him now, the fact that he’d never see her again after tonight. But the reasons why this was probably a bad idea didn’t seem to matter as he came upon the cute two-story white modern farmhouse with twinkle lights draped around the length of the wide wraparound porch.

  He’d no sooner opened the door and emerged than he heard, “You weren’t invited.” He could make her figure out, sitting on one of the cushioned loveseats under a wide picture window.

  “You promised me a bottle of special pinot noir and I’m here to collect,” he called back, leaving his car doors unlocked like he’d seen Nate do yesterday at the tasting room. The casual trust around the winery reminded him of home. The Sandovals were open and honest people, something he’d missed over the years working the races and being in constant competition with damn near every person he met. Here on the vineyard, that life didn’t matter and he found some of the tension he carried fade away.

  All that mattered to his body, in fact, was that Blair was close, and it wanted to say hello. Intimately.

  “Nate could have given it to you at the winery.”

  Cole stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her. She was lovely sitting on her porch with her feet drawn up beside her and her white linen skirt floating over her legs and a loose-fitting sky-blue tunic on top. “Nate also wanted me to check on you,” he lied. “He seemed pretty upset that you decided to shirk your hosting duties.”

  Blair snorted. “He can go kick rocks. He knows exactly why I left and why it was necessary.”

  “You scared of meeting your competition?” Cole taunted mildly, thinking of Nate’s offer to introduce him to other winery owners. Though he got the point that she must have seen someone there associated with her ex.

  He could see her roll her eyes even in the low light. “Trust me, they’re far more scared of me than the other way around.”

  “I take it you’ve told them about your whole men in a firepit idea as well?”

  She met his eyes then. Their little game was over. “I told you I didn’t want to go to dinner with you.”

  “Yeah, but this isn’t dinner.” This was what he wanted anyway, time with her one-on-one and the closer they were to a bed seemed to just better the odds that they might end up there.

  As he watched her, he wondered if she’d ever give him clearance to join her on the porch, but at her next words he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “I did an internet search on you today.”

  He knew it was inevitable and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t done one on her as well. He didn’t find much besides write-ups about the winery, her awards for craftsmanship, articles about how she was an innovative and badass female grower in an industry dominated by men. All stuff that basically intrigued him more and which had ultimately driven him to where he was currently standing. A search on him, on the other hand, well, that was a different thing altogether.

  She stood and walked down the steps, eventually stopping on the last one so that they were the same height.

  “You lost your brother,” she said quietly. Then she laid a hand on his shoulder, the first time she’d purposely touched him, and despite the fact that it was purely out of pity, it set his body on fire. “I’m sorry about that
, Cole.”

  He nodded mechanically, used to the sympathy by now. The long googly-eyed looks from people who barely knew him but wanted him to know just how much they felt for his loss, the awkward claps on the back from men he used to party with who were now uncomfortable in his presence, the silence from his family who were even more devastated than he was. Those simple words from her brought all of it back.

  “No reason for you to be sorry,” Cole assured her, swimming hard upstream to not get dragged into the past. “Racing is a dangerous sport. You don’t do it without knowing the possible consequences.”

  Her eyes locked on his then, the twinkle lights turning hers a golden amber. From this close, he also spotted a few pale freckles on the bridge of her nose. She was as adorable as she was fierce and being with her felt like he was seeing himself again for the first time since his brother’s death. He could get addicted to it if he wasn’t careful. Except that, of course, he would be careful because he owed it to his brother to be gone tomorrow.

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before her hand drifted off. At the last second, he caught it in his, lacing their fingers together. He looked down at their joined hands trying to figure out when the last time was he’d held hands with a woman and coming up completely blank. Worse, the answer might actually be never. She gave their hands a glance and a raised eyebrow when her gaze returned to his, but she didn’t try to remove hers. “You can tell me instead how you got the nickname Easy Rider.”

  A corner of her mouth quirked up and she continued, “Because I think there’s probably a double meaning behind it.”

  He shook his head. “I won a lot of races,” he explained. “Easily.”

  She smiled. “What are you really doing here?”

  “I liked hanging out with you and I thought you liked hanging out with me too.” He gave her hand a squeeze, her soft fingers warm in his. “And your brother beat me at golf today and was being insufferable about it. I had to get out of there.”