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Stick with the wine, stick with the wine.
“It’s incredible,” she admitted, pressing her lips together so as not to let the last of the taste escape before taking another sip.
“What do you taste?” he asked, nodding down at the glass in his hand.
“I have no idea.” Sloane didn’t waste her energy blushing at the admission. She’d never claimed to know anything about wine, and she didn’t need a bunch of fancy terms to say what she liked. “I mean, there are all these different flavors, and they’re all amazing. But I don’t have a clue what they are. I just know they’re good.”
Gavin chuckled. “Let’s give this a try, then. Take another sip.”
She did, and damn if it wasn’t just as good as the first.
“Now close your eyes and picture the flavors.”
Sloane couldn’t help it. She started to giggle. “Picturethe flavors?” She cracked one eye open, just in time to catch the hint of warmth in his gaze as he took a taste from his own glass.
“Just tell me what you see when you think of the way the wine tastes,” he said, and the sexy smile playing on his lips made her close her eyes.
“Okay. I see…summertime.” She sipped her wine and pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, making a slow circle to capture the flavors before swallowing them down. “Plums in August. The jam Carly used to get at Greenmarket in the city.”
“Anything else?”
Pictures swirled over her mind’s eye, taking shape with bright colors. An image flickered in the deep recesses of her brain, barely a faded scrap of thought, but she didn’t let it go. She swallowed again, catching a hint of something smoky and sweet and so familiar…
“Oh! Licorice!” Her eyes flew open, heart hammering with pure excitement. “When I was a kid, there was a candy shop by our house in Brooklyn. It was one of those old-fashioned places that made everything from scratch, right there in the front where you could watch. My father used to buy licorice and sneak it to me before dinner when my mom wasn’t looking. But then she always caught us, because it turned our teeth blue.”
She raised her fingers to her mouth as if it could keep the sudden memory locked in place forever. “Nobody else in our family could ever stand the stuff, but he and I always loved it.”
“This vintage is known for definite notes of licorice, although the dark fruit flavors you caught on to first are easier to identify. You must have a really discerning palate to go with your good memories.”
Sloane shook her head, and the emotional punch of the memory folded back into her mind. “You’re probably giving me way too much credit. I’m sure I just got lucky.”
Gavin leaned one hip against the gleaming countertop as he searched her with another heated gaze. “I doubt it. Taste is very emotional, and sometimes it triggers memories. That’s why I asked you to picture the flavors. They tend to go hand in hand with specific experiences, and picturing them can heighten the tasting experience.”
Not even the lovely flavors still dancing around in her mouth could mask the lump in Sloane’s throat. “I never thought about it like that.”
He examined his glass with a smile before taking a healthy sip. “It’s also a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine, so that helps.”
“Oh, my God, Gavin!” Sloane’s first instinct was to let go of her goblet, but the mistake had dollar signs written all over it. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Nope. I’m having fun, remember? And call me crazy, but I much prefer a really nice bottle of wine and the company of a pretty woman to running around in crappy weather.”
Oh, hell. Of course she’d goaded him into this. Gavin was the least likely candidate for stepping outside the box, and what had she done? Dared him right over the line.
“I didn’t mean for you to take it like this. We can’t—”
He stepped in, cupping his free hand firmly over the shaking fingers that still held her glass. “We can, and we are. The bottle’s already open, Sloane, and life’s too short for cheap wine. All that’s left to do is live a little and enjoy it.”
“Enjoy it?” She cast a doubtful glance at the bottle sitting benignly on the counter, and the promise she’d made earlier in the evening echoed front and center through her brain.
No troubles, no worries. Just for tonight.
Gavin lowered their entwined fingers, releasing her glass to the counter but not letting go of her hand. “Look, it might not be the wild and crazy thing that you had in mind, but this is my version of running around in the rain. So, yeah. We’re going to enjoy it.”
His seductive expression kicked up a notch, and in that moment, Sloane knew two things. The look on his face had nothing to do with the bottle of wine, and if she raised her eyes to fully meet his, she was going to take forgetting her troubles for just one night to a whole new level.
She didn’t think twice.
11
