Laine pauses to think, then smiles coyly. “Ellen.”
The van erupts into laughter.
“All right now, simmer down!” Darryl says from the front of the van where he’s holding an extremely large microphone. “This here’s the RedneckWine Tour. If you in the wrong place, whew, boy! You about to get drunk! You can call me Big Daddy, and that silver fox driving is G-ma.”
“Woo, G-ma!” Kira hollers. “You’re not drinking today?”
“Honey, I’m as sober as they get. This granny’s shootin’ to live to a hundred. Y’all have a good time, though.” With that, Trish tips her conductor’s hat and rams the van into reverse. We lurch into motion, and Darryl clutches one of the metal poles for support.
“Damn, baby!” Darryl grouses over his shoulder. “Good thing this was a stripper van.” With one arm hugging the pole, he lifts the giant microphone to his face, speaking into it so close, the bristle of his mustache hairs is audible from the speakers. “First stop, Red Clay Vineyards!”
Darryl’s a natural. He knows absolutely nothing about wine, but that’s part of the draw. With us huddled around him in the Red Clay tasting room, he samples the first pour. “This wine’s exceptionally slurpable. I give it fourhell yeahs.”
Mattie takes a sip and ponders. “It’s a threehell yeahfor me.”
The commentary gets better as the wine tour goes on.
“Now this merlot reminds me of this jar of grape jelly that sat out on our porch for too long. Five fishing rods up.”
“Ooh,blech. I give this one three-and-a-half trout.”
“This trami-what now? This Traminette is like … well, it’s like if an angel made a baby with Willie Nelson.”
Laine tastes the light, sweet Traminette, and her eyebrows rise. “You know what? I see what he means!”
The others get into it, too. Teddy describes the bouquet of a deep, smoky Pinot Noir as the smell of freshly burnt tires, and Diego agrees, giving it fivedamn straights!We spend the entire afternoon tasting and drinking and laughing as Trish weaves the van up and down the winding gravel roads through Blue Ridge wine country. The best part has beenwatching Laine slowly change her mind. She marvels over a fruity white blend at Jamal’s vineyard, exclaiming to whoever’ll listen thatwho knew our native Catawba pairs so well with classic vinifera?Doesn’t hurt that, true to Big Daddy’s map, we’re all drunk as hell at this point. Hannah doesn’t even stop Trish from breaking out the necklaces, and soon we’re all bedecked with dicks.
“Y’all!If you mash the balls, the dicks light up!” Kira raves, squeezing a bulbous pair to Teddy’s visceral horror.
“That isnothow they work, baby!”
Mattie frowns. “Dicks or necklaces?”
Teddy balls up his tour map and throws it at her in response. It somehow lands behind him.
I can’t judge, though. I didn’t set out to get drunk this morning, but it started feeling strategic as the tour went on. Something’s gotta calm my brain down. Between Laine’s physical proximity andEveryday Bon Vivant’s impending visit to Blue Ridge, my blood’s crackling with electricity.
“So, what’s got you so nervous?” Laine asks as we board the van to head back to Bluebell. “Your leg’s been jiggling all day.”
“Everyday Bon Vivantstill hasn’t called.” Just saying it aloud makes my throat tighten uncomfortably. Damn alcohol releasing all these emotions. “And they arrive tomorrow.”
Laine throws a loose arm around my shoulders and corrals me into our row. The pressure sends a bolt of pleasure down my spine. “Don’t worry, boss. If they haven’t called you yet, they probably haven’t called anybody. And don’t you have some sneaky plan cooked up to meet them anyway?”
I laugh, leaning into her a little more than is strictly professional, but her body draws me in like a magnet, and I can’t find the willpower to fight it right now. Not after four buckets of wine and a glorious, sunnyafternoon rolling through my favorite place on earth. Besides, it’s not like she’s let me go yet, either. “How d’you know about that?”
“I heard you cackling about it with Olinda when she came in last week.” Laine’s face slides into an easy grin. “You’re so cute when you cackle.”
My insides somersault within me, and I briefly consider taking up witchcraft or some other cackling profession full-time. “Y-yeah?”
She boops my nose with her finger. She isdefinitelysauced. “Oh, shut up, Brennan. You know you’re adorable.” My entire head goes up in wild, searing flames.
She thinks I’m adorable?
“Yeah,Brennan,” Kira says as she and Mattie slide into the row behind us. “Stop being so adorable all the time.”
“You first, Kira!” I jab a finger at her. “You’requeenof inconveniently adorable people, all married as hell.”
“She sure is,” Mattie says lovingly, then presses a big, messy kiss to Kira’s temple, which Kira wipes off with a loudblech!, then resumes squeezing balls and giggling to herself.
