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“Says the girl who wants me to run for cinnamon donuts.”
“Fair point. Two please.”
My sister was already working as I turned away. By the time I reached the office door, she probably had half of the report done. It was a great idea, sharing my winemaker’s notes with wine club members. But writing wasn’t my strong suit. And Min knew as much about the harvest as I did. This time of year required a team effort, and even though she ran the Barn’s tasting room and was Grado’s event coordinator, it was all hands on deck during harvest.
By the time I pulled up to Devine Bakery, having traveled the whole ten blocks that made up Kitchi Falls’s downtown, I was already thinking about what was on tap for when I got back to the estate. What I was not thinking about was the very inappropriate topic of Min’s best friend Thayle. A woman I’d known since they became friends in kindergarten. A woman Marco and Cos calledlittle sister.
After a year of torture since Thayle started at Grado Valley, not to mention the years since I’d returned from college and endured seeing her more often than not with Min, you’d think I would be used to this. But nope. After running from the car and pulling open the door of the bakery, I was greeted by the most adorable smile on earth that nearly took my breath away.
Some might have called Thayle more cute than sexy, but I’d have put up a good argument. I knew more about her than I should, being around her so much, but that knowledge did nothing to temper my wholly inappropriate reaction to her.
Every damn time.
“Good morning,” she said brightly. “What brings you here on this fine Tuesday?”
I arched a quizzical brow. “It’s pouring out.”
“Exactly. I love the rain.”
Approaching the counter, the smell of freshly baked cinnamon donuts, the bakery’s specialty, hit me square in the nostrils. Thayle met me at the counter, wearing a baseball cap.
“Thanks for the advertising,” I said, pointing to her hat. “Looks good on you.” Too good.
“It’s the least I can do since I’m technically supposed to be working for you right now.”
“I’m not worried. How’s Rich?”
Her smile faltered. “He’ll be fine.”
“Then what’s with the sad face?” If it were anybody other than Thayle, I might not have noticed her smile was forced. “Let me guess. Too close to call?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, what if something happens to him? To Dorothy?”
I hated to break it to her but, “We’re all going to die someday, Thayle.”
“Ugh, you and that stoicism crap. You’ve been talking to Cos too much.”
“Alright,” I relented. “Focus on the fact that, for now, he’s fine. How about a less depressing topic? Min is requesting donuts.”
“How did she con you into fetching them?”
I pretended to be wounded. “Con me? You think I’m that easily fooled?”
As she leaned into the glass case to get them, I really did try hard not to look at the dip in her tank top. I’m her boss, not a lecher, I repeated to myself, a refrain that had not quite sunk in. Maybe in another year. Or two. Or never.
“My bad,” she said, packaging up a half dozen donuts. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Clearly, I was wrong.”
I hated that she knew me so well. “Yep, totally wrong.”
“Here you go, on the house.”
“You’re a savvy businesswoman, Thayle,” I said, taking the package, pretending I didn’t notice when our fingers brushed. Since she started working at Grado, there had been a countless number of these types of moments. I’d nearly burst trying to ignore them, which Thayle never even noticed. To her, I was just one of Min’s brothers.
“I got it. The least I could do for working here today.” She nodded to the laptop on the corner. “Though I am working. Speaking of...I know you’re crazy busy, but I’m planning to send an update in the next day or so and would love to have a ‘News from the Vine’ in there.”
I was a lot of things. Gregarious, like my dad, according to just about everyone. A nice guy, maybe too nice. Marco would even have called me naive, and it had nothing to do with my status as the youngest Grado son. But one thing I was not? A good liar. She’d know in about two seconds flat I haven’t even started this month’s notes yet.
“What?” she demanded.
