Chapter Four #2
Rowan also had her nose in her glass, and she did get the peaches.
She inhaled again because it was lovely, and she consciously didn’t look at Evie.
But even not looking, she was so goddamn aware of her proximity.
It was like she could feel her, even without actually seeing her.
It had always been like that, and Rowan was supremely annoyed that it hadn’t stopped after all this time.
The air felt like it shifted when Evie was near, like the molecules moved and rearranged themselves specifically to make room for her next to Rowan, and Rowan’s body liked it. Because it was a traitor.
With a nod, she said, “Yeah, and maybe a little orange blossom.” Still not looking at her.
Evie sniffed again. “Oh, yeah, I’m picking that up too. Good call.”
They used to love wine tasting. So much so, that they’d had tasting parties.
Invited their friends over to her place or Evie’s and tasted wines from different regions.
Rowan had a flash now of the two of them laughing at something she couldn’t recall, the entire memory just of Evie’s face, the musical sound of her laughter as she bent over, cracking up at something that had been said.
It was so real, it stole the air from Rowan’s lungs, and she had to consciously force herself to take a breath.
A small crash yanked her back to the present as Evie was apologizing profusely to the woman behind the bar, her glass on its side, the remainder of her wine in a puddle on the wooden surface.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Evie was saying as the woman whipped out a rag and wiped up the spill.
“No worries. Happens all the time.”
“Do we have to cut you off already, Evie?” Justine asked with a laugh. “We’ve barely gotten started.”
Evie shook her head and gave a small chuckle, but it was false. Rowan knew her well enough to know that, which surprised her. “No. No, I’m fine. That was just me being clumsy.” She shook her head, and her cheeks had a pink tint to them.
“Let me get you a new taste,” the bartender said.
Evie held up a hand. “No, that’s okay. Thank you, though.”
It took her a few moments to shake off her embarrassment, but by the time they were at the next winery, she seemed back to herself again.
And again, she stood next to Rowan, who had resigned herself to the closeness.
Evie had never worn perfume. She wore a body mist that smelled like autumn, and it did things to Rowan.
Always had. It was doing things now, and she was torn between being irritated about it and inhaling deeply.
Glad to see some things never change, she thought as she tried hard to keep her nose buried in her wine glass so she didn’t have to smell the sweet and earthy scent of Evie that she remembered.
The wine pourer was filling their tasting glasses with a red when there was a muffled buzz.
Evie took her phone out, and Rowan was able to see it was a text from Claire.
Again. Evie sighed and angled herself slightly to respond so the screen wasn’t visible.
She had that V above her nose again, and Rowan tried hard not to wonder what they were going back and forth about. She failed miserably.
“Everything okay?” she asked when Evie had pocketed the phone again.
“Yup. All good.”
She’s lying.
The thought just appeared in Rowan’s head, as if she kept forgetting how well she once—and still, apparently—knew Evie, how easily she could read her facial expressions.
Her problems are no longer your problems.
Rowan found her brain reminding her of this little fact over and over again. Yeah, she didn’t love that reminder, even if she did need it.
“I don’t love this one,” Jazzy whispered as she leaned her shoulder against Rowan’s.
“Cab franc is not my favorite either,” Rowan said. “I always give it a try because I keep hoping my ‘tastes will mature.’ ” She made air quotes. “Spoiler alert: they have not. Not enough for me to like Cab franc, anyway.”
“You’ve never liked it,” Evie said. “You think it tastes like licking an old castle wall.”
Jasmine burst out laughing. “It totally does. That’s a perfect description.”
“Isn’t it?” Rowan said. “I mean, I’m not wrong.”
“I like it,” Justine chimed in.
“As a chef, I would expect you to have a more refined palate than the rest of us,” Rowan said.
“Or just worse taste,” Evie added, pointing at her.
“Or that,” Rowan agreed, and they all laughed, and it was almost normal.
Almost. There was a moment—just a split second really—where Rowan didn’t have amnesia and Evie hadn’t shattered her world into a million tiny pieces and they were all just friends out wine tasting, the way they’d done a dozen times.
If only there was a way she could hold on to that.
But there wasn’t, and when the laughter died down, she was left with a sad smile on her face and a glass of wine she didn’t really like.
“Okay, what’s next?” Justine asked, clearly trying to pick the mood back up as she took Rowan’s glass and dumped it into her own.
“Our Pinot Noir,” said the bartender, and she began pouring.
By the next winery, Justine had stopped tasting so she could drive, and Rowan had loosened up enough to not be questioning everything that was said or every time Evie inched closer.
“God, this is fun,” she said, then was surprised that she’d said it out loud.
Justine wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Stevie said you haven’t been able to have any alcohol for a while.”
“I mean, I can. But I was on a lot of medication in the beginning.” She swirled the Gewürztraminer in her glass. “It’s tapered off a bit, though, so I’m not as worried about it.” She met Justine’s gaze and added, “Don’t tell my mom,” and gave her a look of panic.
Justine laughed and crossed her heart with a finger. “Promise.”
“When will you be off all of it?” That was Evie. She was standing slightly behind Rowan, so she heard her voice without seeing her.
“A few more weeks, I think.” Rowan held up her glass. “But God, I have missed wine.”
Jasmine touched her glass to Rowan’s. “To wine.” Then she laughed. “Okay, that was a lame toast.”
“There’s no such thing as a lame toast,” Evie said. “Rowan taught me that.” Those brown eyes met Rowan’s. “Right?”
“Right.” Rowan swallowed hard because what the hell was happening? She set her glass down. “Gotta hit the ladies’ room. brB.”
Okay, so she was slightly tipsy. She could admit that, as she headed for a hallway with a sign that indicated the restrooms were down it.
A minute. She just needed a minute away from Evie’s eyes and Evie’s smile and Evie’s scent and Evie’s voice because Christ on a unicycle, it was all messing with her.
Things she remembered. Things she didn’t.
Evie, all smiles and little touches, and if Rowan didn’t know what she knew, she’d wonder if they were still together.
In the restroom, she splashed some cold water on her face, fixed the hairs that had escaped her ponytail, and generally stared herself down in the mirror.
“Just get your shit together, Thomas,” she whispered to her reflection, leaning with both hands on the sink.
Another moment, then she took a deep breath, held it in for a count of four, and let it out slowly, silently thanking her therapist for the zillionth time.
“Okay. Better.” She pushed back to standing, gave her neck a stretch, and headed back out, feeling just the tiniest bit stronger.
By the time they finished that tasting, they decided they’d had enough and should head back to the Airbnb. Justine had some dinner prep to do. Jazzy wanted to be by the water. Rowan should take a quick nap, but being by the water sounded too enticing, so she asked Jazzy if she could join her.
As they entered the house, Claire was there waiting for them, and she beelined straight for Evie.
“Can I talk to you? Upstairs?” she asked. She shot a sidelong glance Rowan’s way, then must’ve realized it and quickly smiled at her. The smile was cool and a little on the icier side.
Evie sighed but followed Claire up the stairs, and as soon as she was away from Rowan, the air seemed to clear, as if Evie had been taking some of the oxygen and Rowan’s breaths were shorter. She inhaled deeply, feeling herself center a bit.
“Coming?” Jazzy had gone into the kitchen and now had two bottles of water in hand as she headed for the back door.
Rowan followed her.
On a lounge chair out back, Becca was reading a book, and Jazzy stopped to give her a quick kiss and a “hi, babe.” Becca smiled at them both and asked a few questions about wine tasting.
Rowan listened to them go back and forth with an ease that surprised her, given how well she knew Becca.
Also, the way Becca looked at Jasmine was new.
Not that she’d ever mistreated any of the women Rowan recalled her dating in the past. She’d just never seemed to care a whole lot to know what they thought about any given subject.
But with Jazzy, it was clearly different.
Becca not only listened to her talk but watched her face the whole time.
Asked follow-up questions. Reached out to hook a finger into Jazzy’s.
It was sweet.
“We’re gonna go down by the water,” Jasmine said. “Wanna come?”
“Do you mind if I stay here?” Becca asked—another thing she never would have done in the past—and held up her book.
“Not at all.” Jazzy bent and gave her a more lingering kiss this time.
“Stevie and Lizzie out on the water again?” Rowan asked once Jazzy stood back up. “I see the boat’s gone.”
“Fishing.” Becca shook her head. “Not sure how they can do that for hours on end, but they seem to love it.”
“Stevie likes to stay busy when she’s not with Sara.” Rowan didn’t mean her voice to sound as wistful as it did.
Jazzy hooked her arm in Rowan’s. “Come on, hon.”