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He rolled his eyes. “It’s Half-Pint, the original,non-alcoholicversion they sell. Cool your jets, sis. I’m not ready to start breaking laws.”
“You’d better,” I said, punching his arm. “Look, I’m going to turn in. Try not to make noise when you come in.”
“I hardly think you’ll care about the noise,” Ryan’s grin put me on edge. “The way you were slamming back wine glasses at the booth, you’ll have a cabaret in your head by morning. As a matter of fact, how are you standing so steady anyway?”
“I’m immune to wine,” I lied. “How many times have you seen me get shitfaced?”
Ryan laughed. “Not once.”
“See,” I grinned, “See you tomorrow.”
“Hey, Mia,” Caleb came running after me and I stopped. He blushed a bit. “You’ve got anything going on this Friday? We could grab a drink or bite to eat. A movie?”
My jaw dropped; Caleb was like five years younger than me. Not to say anything was wrong with him trying to date me—I certainly was not age-shaming—but he was my brother’s age. It felt…weird.
“Are you asking me out?”
“And trying not to lose my collective shit while doing it, yeah,” he replied.
“I’m impressed, Caleb,” I grinned. “I’d love to date you…if you were five years older and can drink.”
He laughed and raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess you’re used to guys who are a bit older and have their stuff together, right?”
I gave him a warm smile. “Yep. Don’t sweat it, though. I’m pretty sure you’ll find a nice girl around here. Besides, I’m not here for vacation. I’m back home for business.”
“Gotcha,” he grinned. “Go take over the world, Superwoman. I’ll see you around.”
I headed off to my car, a silver Ranger Rover, and headed home, trying—and failing—to forget Ethan and his goddamn kiss. A thousand thoughts ran through my head; I shouldn’t have let the kiss happen. It meant nothing.
Nothing.
We were both tipsy on liquor.
He clearly thought I was someone else.
I thought it was someone else.
Beer goggles made you do some stupid stuff.
The excuses ran through my head in an itemized list with subsections and sub-subsections underneath all the headlines. It didn’t matter that Ethan’s kiss had rocked my world better than anyone before him. It didn’t matter that I’d have thought of going to bed with the mysterious kisser who seemed to understand my body better than my last two boyfriends.
It didn’t matter because he hated me, and nothing I could do or say would change that. It was best that I shoved what had happened tonight to the deepest, darkest corner of my brain and forgot about it.
It didn’t take me long to start on the road heading home; rows and unending rows of grave vines bookended the lane as I approached the house and then parked under the extended pagoda where my brother’s truck was parked as well. As he was still at the festival, he’d probably had Caleb pick him up.
I pulled up to my home, a beautifully restored Victorian home built in 1898 that sat on 70 beautifully maintained acres of Swenson Red, Catawba, Sultana, and the finicky Garnacha grape, a native of Spain—the same one Ethan had called aweed—for our bottles.
Sighing, I shut the car off and slumped over the wheel, trying to sift through my emotions and find a speck of solace within. I didn’t find it. The thing with Ethan sprung up again—which bothered me ever more. I was the queen of compartmentalizing; when I decided to ignore something or someone, it disappeared.
So, why is Ethan Vega the exception to the rule?
Huffing, I entered the house and bypassed the kitchen and the ground floor room. I was planning to ask Mom to convert to a master, so she and Dad could have an easier time of it. Well, before I told them that I was here to take over the business.
In my room, I took a quick shower, slid into bed, and then checked my messages, emails, and whatnot before setting my phone to the side and plopping my head on the pillow. Hopefully, Ethan wouldn’t turn up in my dreams.
My back was on the post with Ethan’s eyes lust-blown, gazing down at me. His hand fixed around the back of my neck, and he pulled me in for another kiss, his tongue sweeping through my mouth like a hurricane.
Sensation overrode everything around me, and a tide of pleasure washed through me so strong that my knees gave out, but he caught me and held me against the post. My lips clung desperately to his, and his kiss grew harder, lustier, deeper, and I shivered when his tongue swept against my bottom lip.
