Chapter 28
JULES
Why I thought I could actually get any writing done this morning was beyond me. Instead, I headed to the gym and met with my new personal trainer. I had five free sessions and was determined to make them count. By the time I headed home and took a shower, still nothing.
I replayed our last conversation again for the eighteenth time. I’d told him to text me if he was free, and he’d said “sounds good.” I’d taken that as a green light and spent the entire morning waiting for a text.
But maybe he’d meant “sounds good” in a vague, maybe-I-will-maybe-I-won’t kind of way.
The fact that I kept picking up my phone was exactly the disaster I’d been hoping to avoid. Was there anything worse than the texting dance?
When my phone finally buzzed, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Cole
So what’s on the agenda for today?
I thought about my response and then typed one out.
Jules
Back from the gym. Nothing pressing. You?
Cole
Just finished helping Parker and Mason with a painting job here at the inn.
So he’d been painting. Probably why he hadn’t texted earlier. I really wanted not to care.
It was my turn to text back, but instead I just stared at my phone as if I’d never used it before.
Cole
If you’re free, I do have an idea.
Jules
Do tell.
Cole
Jake Jones is playing at two o’clock at Grotto Valley Vineyards. I know you said you liked him, and I definitely know you like wine. They might even have some bubbly.
My heart began to race. What was this, exactly? A date? Did it matter if we named it? But going to Grotto Valley alone with Cole felt very different than meeting up with him and the guys.
Jules
I did like him, and Grotto Valley is the best. Count me in!
Cole
I’ll get us a ride there. Pick you up at 1:45?
Jules
I’ll be ready!
I stared at my phone. Nothing more. Just enough time to grab lunch and get ready.
I wondered about the ride and wasn’t surprised to see Parker pull up in front of my house at exactly 1:45. Since living in the city, Cole didn’t have a car here, not that we’d want to take one after a day at the winery anyway.
Cole jumped out of the front seat, dressed impeccably as usual. This time his sleeves were rolled up, the cuffs light blue, giving the whole thing a slightly more casual feel. And still, no glasses.
“Your chariot awaits,” he said, holding his left hand out for me to grab. I didn’t really need it to get into the pickup, but I took advantage anyway. As soon as our hands touched, it was everything. Unless I imagined it, he gave me a slight squeeze.
On the way there, I asked Parker how he’d gotten roped into being our driver for the day, and why he and Delaney weren’t coming along.
Parker said he owed Cole one for helping him out that morning, but avoided my other question.
I wondered if Cole had warned him away—and how Parker felt about all of this.
Last night, he and Delaney had seemed to be of the same mind. Cole and I were not a good idea.
As if I needed to be told that.
Just as we pulled into the expansive vineyard that was Grotto Valley—multiple wine-tasting rooms and a brewery arranged in a semicircle with the lake and lakeside cabins beyond it—Delaney texted me.
Delaney
Be careful.
Instead of worrying her with “too late,” I sent her a thumbs-up.
It was the absolute perfect day for wine tasting.
“He’s playing in the brewery,” Cole said, “but I know you love wine. So you tell me—where do you want to start?”
I looked back and forth between the buildings, indecisive.
“How about we start with a wine tasting and then head over to Jake Jones?”
We walked in like any other couple, except we were anything but.
Cosimo Grotto, one of the vineyard owners, came around from behind the tasting bar to shake Cole’s hand.
“You don’t have people here doing this for you? Just like your father?” I asked him.
“It’s been too long, big city guy.” He looked at me. Smiled. Then went in for a hug. I squeezed him back having always thought he was a great guy. “How’s it going Jules?”
“No complaints at all. Looks like you’re doing great here.”
“Plugging along, as usual.” He walked back around the counter. “And yes, I do have people to do this, but no one knows these wines like we do.”
I assumed “we” meant he and his siblings, who ran the various buildings that made up Grotto Valley Vineyards.
“Glad to have the two of you here today.” He slid tasting menus in front of us. “We’ve got some new ones on there and some old favorites too. What are we thinking?”
Cole’s half smile made my knees weak.
“This one has recently developed a taste for Prosecco,” he said. “Have any bubbly?”
We went back and forth, each of us picking four wines. For some reason, I really liked the fact that he was tasting too. I’d assumed Cole might hold out for the brewery, not really being a wine guy.
When we were outside on the back deck, sitting at a table for two overlooking the lake, I said as much.
“Seems like someone else has developed more of a taste for wine since the trip?”
He took the first glass from his wine stand, and I did the same.
“I never minded it, and there are some I really like. I just prefer whiskey more often. There’s a time and a place for each of them.”
That was such a very Cole thing to say.
We tried the first one, and then the second—drinking, commenting on the taste, circling around whatever was going on between us.
“Care to venture into yesterday’s conversation territory?” I asked.
Cole seemed to know exactly what I meant.
“I would normally evade that question, but I’m trying really hard here. Enough to admit I’ve given it some thought. Well before last night.”
I pushed. “And?”
“And I’m just not sure what to say. Could I be happy teaching at Cedar Falls Community College?
Probably. But there’s a good chance my parents—or at least my dad—would never speak to me again.
Following in his footsteps was a dream of his, first for my brother and then for me.
He’s unfortunately a bit more into intellectual snobbery than I’d like to admit. ”
“Do you honestly believe he would disown you for something like that?”
“Disown me?” Cole scoffed. “More like rant and rave, followed by a lot of disappointed looks and a period of freezing me out. It’s just… his way.”
I couldn’t imagine being his mother. His dad sounded like a bit of a narcissist, but I was no expert.
Which was exactly why I shouldn’t be giving advice—especially when he hadn’t asked for it—but I wanted to point one thing out.
“You’re living your life. Not your brother’s. Not your father’s. I know you know that. And you deserve to be happy.” I picked up the third wine. “Enough about that. Let’s pretend we’re in Monterosso and that lake is the Ligurian Sea.”
My deflection worked. Cole’s expression softened, the sternness giving way to the lighter version I’d come to know.
“I know this isn’t quite Cinque Terre, but it has its finer points.”
I couldn’t help one last push.
“You like it back here, don’t you?”
His eyes met mine. It was so much easier to read him without the glasses.
“I never would’ve left. Wasn’t a fan of New Haven. And definitely not a fan of Manhattan.”
“So how long do you intend to live somewhere you don’t like?”
He lifted his glass. “That’s the question of the day, isn’t it?”
I did the same, not wanting to push him any further. He was grappling with big decisions, and answers wouldn’t come overnight.
“That’s not the only question of the day, though.”
“No?”
I rolled my eyes.
Cole’s intelligence was extremely attractive. I could see his mind working even now—that sly smile, almost taunting.
“Permission to be blunt?”
This ought to be good.
“Granted.”
“We shouldn’t be here right now. I shouldn’t have come in this weekend to see you. I’m…” He paused. “What did you call me? Emotionally unavailable. And I have no interest in hurting you. The situation is… complicated.”
And there it was. The quiet part out loud.
“I have no interest in being hurt either. Which is why I would agree that this is a bad idea. Obviously, there’s something between us. And just as obviously, you’re not a relationship guy. At this point in my life, I’m not looking for one-night stands—especially when feelings are involved.”
He took a sip of wine, set the glass down, and watched me. The buzz of other wine drinkers and the peace-like calm around us only charged the conversation. It was as if an imaginary coil stretched between us, and it kept getting shorter and shorter.
“Not to mention, Parker would have my balls as I explicitly promised him not to hurt you.”
That was an interesting bit of news.
“Oh yeah? When did you do that?”
“Probably sooner than you think.”
Sighing, I took my own sip of wine and watched as a group of girls nearby burst into laughter. It was always so much easier with the girls—carefree. Why were boys so complicated?
“So we can agree this is a bad idea, yet here we are. If nothing else, let’s take Parker and Delaney out of the equation. I appreciate them looking out for us, but I’ve got my big-girl pink pants on. I can make my own decisions.”
His smile was downright devastating.
“Big-girl pants, huh? What kind of girl pants?”
And just like that, the tone completely shifted. I squirmed in my seat at the way he looked at me then.
“Why no glasses this weekend?” The question had been eating me alive.
“You know why, monella.”
I did. Or at least, I suspected.
So much for precaution. We had just thrown the doors wide open, and I had no doubt— for better or worse—today we would be stepping through them.