LUKE
I think the pillows at your house are significantly better than mine. That must be the reason I didn’t sleep well last night
She could feel how silly the smile on her face was, but she couldn’t help it.
MARGOT
That must be it. Weirdly, I didn’t sleep that well last night either. I think it was a full moon LUKE
Maybe tonight we’ll both sleep better? I’ve arranged for the moon to not be full, just for you MARGOT
You’re so good to me. I’ll text when I’m leaving the winery
That day was full of stupid, tiny little things that went wrong. She broke a wineglass in the tasting room that morning—it was fine, no big deal, these things happened, but it felt shitty in the moment. Someone had written down the wrong time for the appointment for a party of four—either on their side or the guests’ side, it didn’t matter—and so the tasting room was packed full of people all afternoon, and she had to pitch in, and she could tell Taylor and Marisol were just as stressed about it as she was. Some asshole had posted on Instagram complaining about his visit to Noble and how it had been so rushed, and she had to respond to it and say something gracious even though she’d wanted to remind him he’d been forty-five minutes late for his appointment. And everything was so busy that day that she hadn’t been able to finish drafting the monthly newsletter to the wine club, and she’d wanted to get it done today so she could send it on Friday. It was the last one before the party, and she needed to encourage more people to come—RSVPs had been strong, but not as strong as she’d hoped. Oh well, she’d just finish it when she got home.
Damn it, Luke was coming over. Well, no, not damn it; she wanted him to come over, she’d been looking forward to it all day. Maybe she could get her work done before he got there, or after they ate dinner, or something. She didn’t want to tell him to come over late, not after how last night had gone. She texted him when she got in her car.
MARGOT
Leaving the winery now! Just fyi, I have a little work to get done tonight LUKE
No problem, see you soon. I’ll bring dinner
Okay, great—she could get home in like twenty minutes, and it would probably take Luke twice that to pick up takeout and get over to her house. She’d have time to at least make some headway on the newsletter.
And then, of course, there was an accident on the road, halfway between her house and the winery. At the first opportunity, she turned down a side road and cut over to the other way to get home, but that was the even-more-congested way, so by the time she got home, Luke was waiting outside.
“Sorry,” she said when she got out of her car. “There was an accident and then traffic and today has been . . . Anyway, sorry I’m late.”
He shrugged and followed her up to her door.
“No problem, I figured.” They walked straight to her kitchen, where he set down the bag he was carrying, and she opened a bottle of wine. She took down two glasses and then turned to hand him a glass, to find him looking at her.
“What’s wrong?” Did her hair look that bad? She hadn’t looked at herself in the mirror all day. Maybe this dress was a mistake? It was snug—was it too snug?
He took a step closer to her and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Except that it’s been a day and a half since I’ve gotten to kiss you, and I don’t think I can last another minute.”
She leaned against him and felt some of the tension from the day seep out of her body. As soon as she felt his lips on hers, she strained to be closer to him, to feel more of him. His hands moved up and down her body, and she kissed him harder. She felt him smile as he moved his hand around the curve of her ass, and then she smiled as she pushed her fingers underneath his shirt. Finally, she dropped her head back onto his chest.
“I missed you,” he said in her ear, his arms still around her.
“I missed you, too,” she said.
She lifted her head and smiled at him.
“Let’s eat,” she said. “I’m sure you’re hungry, and I haven’t eaten since . . .” She thought about that. There had been a muffin that she’d grabbed from the kitchen that morning, and she’d eaten some cheese that afternoon, but . . .
“Okay, if you have to think that hard, it’s a problem,” Luke said. “Let’s eat.”
She poured the wine, he piled food on both of their plates—he’d gotten noodles and dumplings—and they sat down at the counter and ate, and drank wine.