He couldn’t hide his reaction; the wine connoisseur in him wanted to rebel.
She noticed. “Hey, I know these are the laughingstock of the wine community. But you can find some damn good ones beneath the cap.”
He’d never sampled even a half-decent screw-top wine. “They won’t age particularly well,” was all he could diplomatically say.
“This won’t have to.” She cracked it open.
He eyed the label. “Bourgogne Chardonnay. A screw-cap Burgundian Chardonnay? Never thought I’d see such a thing.” He watched her pour, the golden liquid gurgling as it filled the glasses. “But how does it taste?”
“You tell me.” Jannie handed him the plastic goblet.
He raised it. “To …”
“Old friends.”
“Old friends.”More than just friends soon, if I have any say.
They clinked, and Nick took a tentative sip. Fresh and round with flickers of key lime, pear, and flint, it possessed most of the qualities of a white Burgundy. He took a bigger sip, and Jannie smiled.
“Verdict?”
“Not bad.”
She smirked. “Too much of a wine snob to admit it’s good?”
“It isn’t good,” he said. As disappointment flickered in her eyes, he quickly added, “It’sverygood.”
She nodded. “Told you.”
He watched her quickly drain her glass and grab the bottle by the neck to pour herself another. Part of him worried about her drinking too much too fast, but the other wicked part wondered if he would get some “in vino veritas” from it.
She set down her full glass and picked up a marshmallow, rolling it between her thumb and index finger in a way that made him need to adjust himself. He pictured her doing that to him, her slender fingertips sliding around his tip, and quickly looked away.
Fuck. The woman fondled a marshmallow, and he was hard.
They made small talk and shared high school stories until the sky turned the color of ink. The conversation flowed, but Nick did notice that they talked about everyone and everything but themselves.
At one point, Jannie got up and brought a second bottle, then raised a screen to allow Rolf to do his business. The dog returned with a blue rubber ball he’d found somewhere in the bushes. He sat politely beside Nick, tail swishing, his brown eyes bright and beseeching.
Nick looked to Jannie. “Should I?”
She shrugged. “Go ahead. He needs the exercise, and he likes you.” She shook her head with a fond smile. “Which is weird. He usually doesn’t care about strangers. People try to pet him, and the stinker blows them off as if they don’t exist.”
Nick stood, and the dog immediately sprang to his feet, tail wagging excitedly as he waited for Nick to throw it. Stepping off the patio and carefully avoiding the edge of the pool, Nick moved onto the grass and indulged Rolf until he was worn out, and Jannie decided it was time to put an end to the game. Taking the ball away, she opened the sliding door and pointed.
“Inside. Go to your place.”
Without hesitation, Rolf trotted in and flopped down on his dog bed with a groan so loud that Nick could hear it from outside.
He laughed. “He’s done.”
“He should be good for the night.” Jannie added a log to the fire, then gracefully sank down on the cushion.
“I’ve never seen a dog so well-behaved. Did you train him yourself?”
“Yeah. With lots of help from YouTube and an online German Shepherd forum.”
“I’m impressed.”
