“I wastryingto!” Rachel gestures at her beer-splashed outfit, like that explains anything. “Not anymore! And all so Charlaine here can buy up some decrepit vineyard in the middle of nowhere and makemorebad wine? Yeah, real great business plan, fam!”
Vineyard? What vineyard? I blink, then turn to Laine, but she’s looking straight at Rachel, fury glinting in her eyes. “You’re drunk and spewing nonsense, Rachel. I know you hate me, but that doesn’t change thefact that I’m a member of this family, too! You were outvoted, okay? Deal with it!”
“Iwon’tdeal with it! How can I when you both keep taking everything I’ve worked so hard for?” Rachel’s voice breaks.
I rear back. “What haveItaken from you?!”
Rachel points at me so hard, she staggers. “You saidno.Everyday Bon Vivantasked if you’d collaborate with Into the Woods for the showcase, and you saidno!” Rachel’s hands ball into fists, even as tears stream down her cheeks. “After everything we’ve done for you, you ungrateful bitch!”
“Whoa!” Laine forces herself between Rachel and me. “You need to stop talking to her like that, Rachel, so help me God.”
“Yousaid nofirst!” I yell over Laine’s shoulder, like the beginning of every fight I witnessed at good old Gilmer County High. “Marisol told me so!”
“That’s right!” Rachel puffs out her chest like that’s something to be proud of.
So she’s aware she’s a hypocrite. Great.
“I’m tired of carrying your sorry ass, Zoe Brennan! But theone timeyou could give us something back, you say no? Well, fuck you! You wouldn’t even have a vintner right now if it weren’t for us and Charlaine sucking so hard!”
“That’s it.” Laine’s jaw grinds as she grabs Rachel by the arm. “I’m taking you home.”
Rachel allows herself to be pushed out, but not before yelling over her shoulder, “She’s gonna hurt you, Zoe, don’t you see that? She hurts everybody who loves her! Wait, I don’t have my keys—”
But Laine’s got Rachel’s purse and she’s leading her toward my truck, and me?
All I’ve got are questions.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I’m already in bed when Laine returns from dropping Rachel off. She climbs in beside me, wearing her boy-short briefs, a tank top, and a look of concern. We face each other, back in our parenthesis form, the first unease in months swirling between us.
She runs a hand up my arm. “You okay?”
I bite my lip and nod. “But, you’re buying a vineyard?”
“Not buying, not right now. Just looking for that next opportunity, remember?” She smiles sadly. “Business has been so good, my family has capital to grow. There’s a couple of competing proposals on the table now that I’m back, and Rachel’s furious about it, that’s all. She wants to open a brewery she’d manage on her own, but I put forward a few properties to consider instead. Existing vineyards looking to change ownership, places with good, established vines where it’d be easy to step in and get to work right away.”
I frown, trying to imagine both things. Laine running an expansion of Into the Woods is easier to picture, but Rachel? Drinkingbeer?
My mind runs over every rumor and bit of gossip in the local wine scene. “But there aren’t any properties like that for sale around here. Are there?”
“No, but I’m keeping an eye out.” Laine’s hands fold over my hips, tugging me to her. “And none of this matters right now, anyway. We’ve got the showcase to plan, and I have to deliver on a delicious slate of reds for my demanding—”
She presses a warm, breathy kiss behind my ear.
“sexy—”
Her lips trail down my throat, teeth scraping into a bite where my shoulder meets my neck.
“—ferociousboss.”
Laine pulls me on top of her, until my legs are forked over her lap, stretching me apart. Her index finger runs along the outside of my panties.
With great effort, I push her hand away. “Laine, I—” But the words don’t come.
“You need to hear more.” Laine’s hands encircle my wrists. “You’re nervous, and you won’t feel better until you know every detail so you can run through all your worst-case scenarios and figure out how to protect yourself from them.” The pads of her thumbs run over my pulse points. “From me.”
I’m still wearing my T-shirt, but I feel completely naked. “Am I so easy to understand?” I mean it as a joke, but it comes out too soft.
