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Paige’s shoulders dropped and he knew he’d sold her on eating now, escaping later. Slowly, her chin dipped in reluctant agreement. “Okay. We’ll eat. I’m not sure I can think straight anyway.” She glanced once more at the door before following him to the table where a lamp lit up the surface along with a few bottles and a glass.
“Do you always work late?” The way everyone had spoken about her this evening, he was pretty certain he already knew the answer.
She slid a stool over to the table for him and then settled on her own. “I’m trying this vintage. I’m figuring out if it’s ready for barrel aging or not.”
Reaching for the bags of food on the table, Daniel began to unpack their dinner. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a little bit of everything.” With all the food spread out on the small table, he looked up from the silence and into Paige’s wide eyes.
“Did you buy out the whole store?”
Her honest surprise made him laugh. “Close to it. For a major grocery store, Central Market is pretty cool.”
“And popular.”
“I can see why. I must admit, I didn’t expect anything like that in Houston.”
“Why not? You do realize we are the fourth largest city in the United States.”
He pulled out paper plates and silverware from another bag. “I know but, what can I say, the selection surprised me.”
Glancing down at the spread of food continuing to come out of the bags like objects out of Mary Poppins’ suitcase, her jaw momentarily fell open. “Good grief, you really did buy everything.”
“I wanted to make sure I brought options you’d like.” It had been a stress point for him standing in the supermarket. He’d never wanted to charm a woman as much as he wanted to charm Paige. Somewhere between the last hotel and the market, he’d decided without any doubt that he was not going home between visiting cities, and hockey had nothing to do with the decision. That realization was almost as scary as the decision itself.
As he opened the containers of pesto salad, antipasto, and other warm and cold foods that covered the gamut from vegetarian to carnivore, Paige held out a bottle of wine. “Shall I open this?”
He shrugged. “You’re the expert. If you pick it, I’m sure it will be delicious.”
“I’ll get the glasses.” Her lips tipped up at the corners and his chest puffed with satisfaction at the delight dancing in her eyes.
Leaning over the small table, almost close enough to kiss the dab of pesto from the corner of her lips, he shoved an olive in his mouth before he did something stupid and scared her off for good. Swallowing, he took a sip from his glass. “Wow, this is delicious.”
“Thank you.” Her smile spread.
“How did you get into the wine business? I mean, I assume the family, but…”
“It was sort of by accident. My grandfather had been buying wine from here for decades. Then, in recent years he noticed things were deteriorating. The wine was still delicious, but with cracks in the walls and leaks in the roof, shoppers weren’t as loyal.”
“I can understand that.” He reached for a roasted pepper.
“Anyhow, one day the Governor offered to help the owners out and rather than accept his help, they offered to sell it to him, lock stock and wine barrels. And he did.”
“And that’s how you became a vintner?”
“Not exactly.” She shrugged, an olive pit slipped from between her lips, and he almost swallowed his tongue. “He’d thought my younger cousin Trevor, one of my Uncle Oliver’s six kids, would be well suited. He was just finishing up his MBA and entertaining different options.”
“But?”
“He didn’t know the difference between Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio and didn’t care to learn.”
“Okay, even I know one is red and one is white.”
Her smile bloomed again. “That’s right. Very good.”
“I thought everyone knew that.”
She shook her head. “Anyhow, Grams mentioned to my grandfather that I’d visited a lot of wineries on a tour of France and that perhaps he should consider a granddaughter instead of a grandson.”
“And the rest is history?”
