"She seems…"
"Yeah."
A beat of silence. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
It was just a quiet huff of amusement, quickly suppressed, but it transformed her face. It made her look younger, somehow, and lighter.
*Gods help me,* he thought. *I'm completely gone for this woman.*
"Should I ask what that was about?" She gestured vaguely in the direction Rachel had gone.
"Nothing interesting. She stops by occasionally to…" He considered his words. "Offer assistance."
"Assistance."
"Of various kinds."
"Ah." Her expression shifted into something harder to read. "And do you… accept her assistance?"
The question hung between them, weighted with implications.
"No," he said simply. "I don't."
Something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe, or relief—before she smoothed it away. "None of my business, either way."
"Isn't it?"
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he watched her go still.
*Careful,* he told himself. *Don't push. Don't spook her.*
But it was too late to take it back. The question sat between them like a living thing, waiting to see which of them would acknowledge it first. She looked away. She looked at the vines, the sky, and finally, the folder still clutched against her chest.
"The vendor applications," she said finally. "We should review them."
A deflection. He recognized the tactic, but he let her have it.
"Of course. Come with me."
She followed him obediently enough until she realized he was bypassing the tasting room.
"Where are we going?"
"To my cabin. I need to shower. It's hot out here."
"It is." Her voice was slightly strangled. "Very… hot."
He bit back another smile.
"But…"
"Strictly professional," he said quickly. "No wine."
"Probably wise."
"Probably." He started walking again and to his relief, she fell in step beside him. "Though I have to say, you were much more relaxed with the wine."
"I was practically unconscious with the wine."
