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I resist raising my eyebrows at the word lusty.
She’s not wrong. Wine made from the Syrah grape is often described as lusty, but I don’t use the word myself. It’s too subjective. What does lusty mean, anyway? It can mean different things to different people. What I consider lusty may not be what Ashley considers lusty. It’s too easy, and I’m not going to let her—the wine doctor—get away with too easy.
“I’ll give you dark,” I say, “but what do you mean by lusty?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. Lusty is one of those words that doesn’t really tell a consumer anything.”
“Sure it does. It means the wine is earthy.”
“Ah. But does it? Lusty can mean hearty or robust. Earthy in that way. But earthy also means the aroma and flavors of cultivated soil, edible mushrooms, forest floor. None of that seems particularly lusty to me.”
“It’s a common term used for wine,” she says.
“I’m not saying it isn’t. I’m simply saying it’s not a term I use. I find it too broad and vague.”
She twists her lips for a minute. Then, “I hate to admit this, but you’re right, Dale.”
I can’t help it. A smile edges onto my lips. Damn it! A smile! She wormed a smile out of me when I need to keep her distant.
“It’s taking the easy way out,” she continues. “But tell me. Is it any different than using the terms hearty and robust, as you just did?”
Oh, she’s smart. Maybe that doctor of wine thing is paying off. “It’s no different. Good for you for catching that. I try to be more specific when I describe the nose and palate of my wines.”
“I see I have a lot to learn.”
“If you want to be a sommelier, customers will rely on your wine picks. The more specific you are with your tasting notes, the more satisfied the customer will be.”
“You’re right,” she says again. “Absolutely.”
Funny. I didn’t expect her to agree with me so readily. I get the feeling Ashley White doesn’t always come around so quickly. Perhaps she’s truly serious about learning here at Steel Vineyards.
In which case, I have a job to do. To educate her.
Apparently her doctor of wine professors haven’t done an adequate job. Fucking ridiculous. Fine. I’ll do what Uncle Ryan asks. I’ll teach her everything we do here at Steel Vineyards. The only problem?
I’ll have to continually fight my attraction to her.
Chapter Eleven
Ashley
I’ll never use the word lusty—or hearty or robust—to describe wine again. Dale’s right. It’s a cop-out. I need to get better at wine tasting. I may be almost a doctor of oenology, but I still have a lot to learn.
A lot this man can teach me.
This man, who, according to Diana, only made it through one semester of college.
He’s so interesting. Such a riddle—a riddle I want desperately to solve.
The problem? I’m not used to working hard with men. I’ve been known to sleep with a man only hours after meeting him. I’m never looking for a serious relationship, and neither are most of the men I meet.
I doubt Dale Steel is either, but there’s the issue of my attraction and desire for him. I’m usually able to seduce a guy quickly.
Not so here.
Yeah, it’s going to take some work. Work I’m not used to doing.
I’m pretty sure it’ll be enjoyable, though. Either that or extremely frustrating.
Whatever. Dale is worth it. Already I know that much.
Dale reaches toward one of the grape clusters and pulls off a few pieces of fruit. He hands one to me. “Taste.”
I pop it into my mouth. The tannins from the thick skin settle on my tongue, but as I chew, they give way to the sweet flesh of the grape.
“Interesting,” I say. “No seeds.”
“You got lucky,” he says. “Most of them have one or two.”
“I gather.” I let the pulp linger on my tongue for a few more moments before I swallow.
“What do you think?”
“It’s Syrah, all right. Sweet.”
“Can you tell it’s Syrah just from the flavor?”
I shake my head. “Sorry, I can’t.” Am I supposed to be able to? Sommeliers can tell the grape when they taste wines, but not the grapes alone. They usually taste quite similar in fruit form. I wait for Dale to berate me over it, but he doesn’t.
“This is a great crop,” he says. “These vines were planted over seventy-five years ago, if you can believe it. Their roots are strong and deep.”
“How often do you irrigate?”
“Only when necessary. Colorado is mostly a desert climate, so we do need to water, but we prefer to dry farm as much as possible, something my uncle began when he took over. It really makes a difference in the kind of wine we can produce. Less sugar, for one.”
“Doesn’t that reduce the alcohol content?”
