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“What’s synesthesia?” I ask.

Ashley opens her eyes. “It’s a neurological condition. My brain processes information with several senses at once.”

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning sounds have colors for me, and colors have sounds. Sometimes smells have sounds. Right now, the nose of this wine is playing a violin melody, so I need to ignore the sound and focus on the individual scents.”

O…kay. Interesting that she chose a career that required her to smell and taste on the daily.

“It’s the most fascinating thing,” Diana says.

“I’ve heard of that,” Mom says. “Is it true the most common type is associating colors with letters and numbers?”

Ashley nods. “Yeah. What I have is more uncommon. My letters and numbers don’t have colors, but sounds do. And smells do. My senses intermingle a lot.”

“Interesting,” Mom says. “Does it run in your family?”

“It’s often genetic,” Ashley says, “but not in my case. I’m the only one in my family that I know of.”

“This is all really interesting,” I say, “but are you going to tell me what else you get on the nose?”

Diana shoots daggers at me with her eyes. Yeah, I’m being rude. I’m not a rude person, but I can’t help the irritation at having this intern thrust on me. This wine is our basic table blend, to be enjoyed with pretty much everything. Still, I’ve worked hard to make it special, and I want to see if she can pick out the nuances.

Ashley inhales again. “Red fruit… Pomegranate, yes. And goji berry.”

I can’t help myself.

I chuckle.

Chapter Five

Ashley

He’s laughing.

Freaking laughing.

Okay, just a short husky chuckle, but oh my God, the sensation. That dark and lusty almost-black color of Syrah…

It’s everywhere, invading and overtaking my senses so I can’t accurately process the fragrance of this wine.

How am I supposed to answer his questions when his voice sends me into a tailspin?

I try my best to filter out everything else and sniff the wine once more. No goji berry. What was I thinking? It’s cranberry. What a stupid rookie mistake.

I open my eyes and meet Dale’s green gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s cranberry, not goji berry. And just a touch of smoky blackberry.”

He nods, not cracking a smile. “Good. You’re right. Pomegranate and cranberry. The blackberry comes from a bit of Syrah I added to Uncle Ryan’s blend of Pinot Noir, Grenache, and Merlot.”

“You blended Pinot Noir with Syrah?”

“It’s a little unorthodox,” he says, “but I think it works. Don’t you?”

“Yeah. At least in the aroma. I haven’t actually tasted it yet.”

“Please.” He gestures.

I sip the wine, letting it coat my tongue and the inside of my mouth. I swallow. “It’s fruit forward, which isn’t surprising for a blend meant as a table wine. But there’s something…” I raise my glass toward the bottle. “May I?”

Dale pours me a full glass, and I take another sip.

“It’s delicious,” I say. “It doesn’t require a lot of contemplation, which I assume is what you’re going for with a table wine, but it’s that bit of Syrah. That smoke and dark fruit on the finish. I’ve never tasted anything like it before in a blend.”

Dale nods. “Syrah is my favorite grape.”

I widen my eyes. It’s my favorite as well, but I don’t say so. “Diana says you make a Syrah.”

“We do. This year’s crop looks amazing. We’re going to begin production on our first old-vine Syrah.”

“And I get to be a part of that?” I nearly squeal. “I can’t wait!”

Dale stays stoic. No reaction to my outburst, though Diana and Brianna both erupt into giggles. Even Talon and Jade smile.

But not Dale. Would it kill him to smile at me?

Apparently so.

“I can’t wait until tomorrow,” I say. “I want to see the vineyards tonight.”

Dale seems hesitant. Clearly he doesn’t want me here. Are the vineyards his domain? Maybe so, but the Steels invited me here for an internship, and that internship should include learning about the vineyards themselves.

“You can see the vineyards whenever you want, Ashley,” Talon says. “Ryan or one of his assistants will take you anytime.”

Great. Except that I want the man next to me—the man whose voice is still the red-black liquid of Syrah inside my mind—to show me. Isn’t that what he’s supposed to do?

I turn to Dale. I want you to show me. Tonight.

The words don’t make it past my lips, though. I’m not shy, by any means, and I’d have no problem saying such a thing to any other man in the universe.

But Dale… Something stops me.

He’s different. Different in a way I haven’t yet determined.

“Filets are done,” Talon announces.

Darla brings a platter to me. “You first, Miss Ashley. You’re the guest.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” I choose a steak and place it on my plate. The juices run red.

“Rare,” Talon says. “The only way to eat a Steel filet.”

Normally I’m a medium girl, but I’ll try anything once. Good thing I’m not a vegetarian. I doubt I’d make it here for long.

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