Fuckthis guy! My feet unlock, and I stomp over there, ready to lay him out.
But then, he tastes it. The smug expression slides off his face, replaced with surprise. Not delight or approval, but genuine surprise. He rolls the wine around in his mouth, thinking. By the time I reach Laine’s side, she doesn’t seem to be breathing, still hanging in limbo for this man’s opinion.
Soren swallows, blinks. Looks at Laine. His face softens, brow furrowing. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Woods.”
Now Laine’s wearing the same surprised expression. “Sorry? For what?” she croaks out.
“For all those things I said about your abilities in my column. I take them all back.” His dark eyes look so humbled, I actually believe him. “This wine is incredible,” he says in awe. “Bright and interesting, sonuancedfor such a young red. How did you manage such complexity so quickly?”
Laine deflates, her head lolling back in sweet relief, and laughs. Tears roll down her cheeks as Marisol, arching an eyebrow Laine’s way, speaks for her. “I’m sure Ms. Woods will share a bit of her inspiration and technique with you shortly”—Laine guffaws—“just as I’m sureyouwill cover Laine’s incredible work here and this beautiful showcase in the next issue ofVinitopia, complete with a retraction of your prior incorrect statements about Ms. Woods.” Marisol fixes her steely gaze on Soren, whonods dumbly before drinking from his glass again, all of us standing in a dazed orbit around our star, whomaybe mid-supernova, not sure.
When it’s clear Laine’s laughter isn’t stopping anytime soon, Marisol deftly ushers Soren away to meet some other local vintners so Laine can lose her shit in peace.
“Babe,babe!Are you having a breakdown? Do I need to call for an ambulance?” I say it the way Darryl always does,am-bu-lance, which only makes her laugh more.
“I’m just—so—God, I was terrified!” Laine says through her laughter. “And for what? While I was standing there, waiting for this boogeyman to deliver my sentence, it struck me how dumb it was that I cared so much about what one asshole with a platform said about me. And then, after all the times I tortured myself replaying his insults over and over in my mind, for him tolove it? To take everything he saidback?!” Laine straight up hoots, and now we’re getting looks of concern.
“Okay, baby.” I smile at the onlookers and wrap my arm around Laine’s shoulders so I can corral her still-shaking body out from the tasting tent and into the beautiful moonlit night. Our night.
Once I get her out of the crowds, her manic reaction to the release of all that toxic stress finally dies down, but the smile on her face stays. Languid, loose, andfree. I lead her up to the tip-top of the vineyards, where we can gaze down upon all we’ve accomplished together beneath my mother’s tree. I laid out a blanket here earlier, with a small lantern, a bottle of Laine’s red, a corkscrew, two glasses, and, god help me, ashoe box.
“Aww, babe.” Laine looks at the spread before us, touched. “How’d you know I’d need an escape plan?”
“I didn’t.” I smile and get down on my knees and take her hands in mine. Looking up at her, the stars framing her beautiful face that’s etched on my entire history, I’m struck by how lucky I am to be here, with thiswoman I’ve always loved. From sighing over the newspaper clippings I kept of her secreted away in my crush box to the night where even beneath a blindfold, my body somehow already knew hers. Knew that when I felt her hands trace my neck, slide down the swell of my shoulders, grasp me around my waist, that I was home, that I was safe. That within those hands, I belonged to somebody.
And at long last, somebody belonged to me, too.
“Laine, I’ve got some things I want to say to you.” I tug her by the hands till she’s down on her knees, too, facing me. Her eyes are waiting for me to begin. So, with a deep breath, I do.
“I’ve never been in a serious relationship before because I’m a chicken. I tried Le Jardin’s famous Pinot Grigio once and hated it. I’m absolutely terrified of change in all forms, unless I thought of it, and then it’s the best idea ever.” I smile wearily. “I’m simultaneously phobic about commitmentandflings because I guess I’m just … phobic? And I have a hard time believing anyone could ever love me because”—I swallow—“until recently, I thought nobody ever had. But I can be a real dumbass.”
A slow smile breaks across Laine’s face, traveling like the first rays of sun across the ocean. “Are you done?”
“Not yet.” I blow out a breath, knowing I have to say the biggest thing, the scariest thing, but also knowing it’ll be okay. “I’m fully, deeply, indelibly in love with you. I know you put money down on that spot in Oregon, but I desperately want you to stay. I get that it’s always been your dream to run your own place, and I have nothing to offer you here except for a small family vineyard. But I do have an opening for a permanent vintner if you’re interested. Also, I know about your retainer.”
“There’s no retainer.Noware you done?”
I arch an eyebrow. “There is absolutely a retainer. Also, I love you like crazy.”
Her smile turns into a grin. “You said that already.”
“I’ll say it every damn day of our lives, if you let me.”
Fireworks shoot off from every cell in my body as she cups my face in her hands. “Yes, please,” she whispers as her eyes fall to my lips.
“I love you, Laine, and I’m pretty sure I always will.” I lean my forehead against hers, our breath mingling in eddies between us. “Also, one time, I stole your sports bra, but in my defense, I was sixteen and going through some things.”
“Really?” She leans back to stare at me incredulously.
“Really,” I confirm. I pick up the box from the blanket and shake it. “It’s in here.”
“Whatisthat?” She eyes the decoupaged box with such amusement, I almost abandon ship, but you can’t shove the proverbial teenage crush box back under the bed once your teenage crush sees it. “Is that—”
“Shut up, or I won’t show you.”
“Yes, boss,” Laine says, darkly playful.
I raise an eyebrow, daring her to make me regret this. “It’s … about you.” I slowly remove the lid, then slide it over to her, fully aware that this may cross the line fromit was just a crushtointense baby psychopath.
