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A fuckingsundress and cowboy boots? Never mind that an open cardigan covered up most of her torso. When I opened the door this morning, I knew immediately today would be the death of me. I’d convinced myself to cool my heels, that the mixed vibes Thayle was giving yesterday were enough to back off. That I should let her take the lead. And if she didn’t, it might be for the best. But when I saw her this morning, refreshed and wearing one of my favorite outfits, cat costume aside, I knew I was screwed.
And then she pulled the banana stunt sitting across from me, in a sundress, when I now knew full well she wasn’t wearing underwear.
As we walked up to the first winery of the day, two things were crystal clear. First, Thayle hadn’t been drunk or just extra playful at the restaurant. The cake incident had occurred exactly as I remembered it, and was not something I’d since conjured in my head. There was absolutely a spark of something there.
And two?
I intended to pursue it.
“Antonio Grado,” said an older gentleman, greeting us before we’d even walked into the tasting room. “How the hell are you?”
“Brad Redman.” I shook his hand. “Thayle, this is the owner of Oregon Trails.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “You’re an old friend of the family?”
Brad smiled. “More than just a friend. I was in this kid’s parents’ wedding.”
“Oregon Trails has been around as long as Grado Valley,” I told Thayle. “Back in the day, there were a lot fewer wineries.”
“It’s a fairly small community still,” Brad agreed, walking us through the tasting room, “but back then, the owners from all the lakes knew one another. Now we’re lucky to see each other once every few years. Although I did just catch up with your parents before they left for Italy.”
We stepped up to the tasting bar. Two other groups—a couple and another group of four women—lingered at various other tasting spots. The building was a converted barn like ours, except this one had high ceilings and wine barrels everywhere, not to mention walls of wines and rustic-looking chandeliers complete with real candles, which gave the space a country, old-time vibe.
“Mom and Dad told us they were out here. The place is looking good.”
“Thanks,” he said, pouring us each a sample of wine as we sat on our stools. “We’re still kicking. Can’t say I envy your parents. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I retired.” He gestured to the wine. Thayle and I both took a sip. “Then again, I don’t have a host of willing children to leave this place to. If I did, I might consider it.”
“This is really good,” I said with another sip. “The 94-point riesling?”
“You got it,” Brad said proudly.
“You know this wine,” I told Thayle.
“Is this the one you said had incredible balance and tension from the integrated acidity?”
I must have said that to her months ago. She remembered all I’d told her about it. I’d meant to refresh her memory about it in the car, knowing we’d be drinking the 94-point riesling, but not surprisingly, I’d completely forgotten. This woman was as smart as any I’d ever met. Her memory astounded me.
“That’s the one,” I said, silently thanking her for making Brad smile knowing we’d obviously talked about the high quality of his wine.
“Brad?” A young man, no older than college age, approached from behind the bar. “I’m really sorry to interrupt. There’s a slight, um, situation. Can I borrow you for a second?”
When Brad looked at us, I immediately waved him away. “You can leave that bottle,” I said, “no need for a tasting. This is the one we want.”
“It’s yours,” Brad said. “Enjoy. I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” I said, suddenly glad about our location in the barn. Brad had taken us to a private corner of the room, one walled off from the rest, likely for private tastings or VIP customers.
Jumping up from my stool, I reached for the bottle, then topped off Thayle’s glass without prompting from her. She liked riesling, and this was a quality one, so I knew she would enjoy it.
“I’m determined not to drink as much today,” she said, nevertheless taking a sip. “This is a work trip, after all.”
I’d stop her right there. Without sitting back down, I instead slid my stool aside so I could stand comfortably next to her. It was time to kick this challenge up a notch.
“From this second on, it’s not.”
She gave me a puzzled look.
