Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Same,” he says. “I’d like to think of myself as a wine lover, but this really puts things into perspective. I know sweet fuck all. How about you, Ella?”
I have to laugh as I pop a grape into my mouth.
“Umm… it’s a great trip. I love the scenery. And I’m sure I’ll love the wine, too.”
“That’s a no, then,” Heath says. “Ella the non-wine connoisseur, just like us.”
“No!” I say. “I like grapes and stuff as well.”
“We should do a do you remember game,” Josh says. “What was the grape over in that row called, Ells?”
He points to a row three over.
“Something beginning with C…” I reply. “Char… charie?”
“Fuck knows,” Josh says, and there’s something about the conspiracy between us that gives me the giggles. Like naughty kids on a school trip.
The driver is waiting, and we’re laughing, and now we’re fucked, because every time from that point, when he lets us sample the grapes while he gives us the variety history, it’s going to tickle us. I just know it.
And it does.
Slowly but surely, the three of us bloom together in technicolour, despite our boring attire. We laugh, and chat, and Heath drops his fake voice. We enjoy the sun and the greenery, and munch on grape samples with giggles, and it’s great. It’s really fucking great, and it will get even better when it comes to the wine tasting.
I’m gagging for some samples as the next tour guide talks us through the aging and bottling process. I feign interest, and manage it a bit, because some of this stuff is cool and I really didn’t expect I’d be able to answer vineyard related questions in a pub quiz anytime this lifetime, but my primary interest is on two things only. And they definitely aren’t vineyard related.
The men standing at my side are far more beautiful than rows of vines could ever be. I edge closer to Heath, testing the boundaries he has with his disguise. I brush my arm against his as our tour guide is speaking, and dare to tangle my fingers in his.
He could step away from me easily. He could create distance without a word, no problem whatsoever. But he doesn’t.
Heath Mason lets me take his fingers in mine as we listen to the aging process of different types of wine at the vineyard, and then he squeezes back, just a touch.
That touch is enough.
The veil reveals another peek inside.
His walls are coming down – outside as well as in. And just imagine where that could lead…
I shouldn’t imagine. I should avoid any dreams or fantasies or ponderings of any sort, and Josh reminds me of that when the guide ushers us on through to the next room, and engages Mr Christoff with some further information on one of the wine varieties.
“Don’t do it,” my boyfriend whispers. “It’s not fair on any of us.”
“Do what?” I ask, and his eyes fix on mine.
“You know what. It won’t benefit you or me, and it definitely won’t benefit him. Not when we have to fuck off out of here in a few days’ time and go back to normal.”
Normal.
I’ve already lost track of what normal feels like, because this, right here, THIS is what feels normal now.
“Ella,” Josh whispers, knowing my thoughts as well as he knows my words. “Stop it. Seriously.”
I shrug. “Fine. Ok.”
“Good.”
He smiles, but his smile is as fake as Heath’s was when we were first in the jeep earlier. He’s talking sense, but he’s also talking bullshit. He doesn’t want to go back to normal any more than I do.
“Guys!” Mr Christoff calls, and we look over at the client who is driving us crazy. “Come, join me. Time for wine tasting.”
“Can’t wait!” I clap my hands. “I’m dying to see what these grapes taste like!”
I’m not lying, either. A glug of wine is exactly what I’m needing right now.
I bounce on over, with a massive smile on my face – but this time I heed Josh’s words, and I don’t get too close. I don’t take Heath’s hand.
Fair play, the wines do taste a lot different when you try them one after the other. I get the hang of sniffing them, too. I’m still debating my favourites when we arrive at the wine store at the end of the tour, so Heath makes a Heath move and takes a load of all three of them, and a whole batch of Josh’s favourite, too.
We’re not going to be running out of wine anytime soon, that’s for certain. And it hits me in the guts there and then.
We won’t be running out of wine anytime soon regardless of this new massive selection, because in just a few days it’ll be a cab driving us out of Cannes, to the airport – not driving us from a vineyard back to his place.