The Crush (Oregon Wine Country #1)(52)

“Man, did you ask yourself why none of the other wineries around here offer food?”

He paused. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“It’s because it’s against the law!”

“It can’t be. Junie already has Keval advertising it all over the valley and on the internet: Come one, come all! Brendan Hart Vineyards will have pizza for the crush! Once that’s out there, it can’t be undone.”

Manolo had promised this to Junie. He couldn’t renege.

“You of all people should know that food service is regulated—”

“—and every state has different rules, no matter how archaic,” Manolo finished for Sam. He snatched at the first solution that came to mind. “You’ve got connections. Is there anything you can do? Anyone you can talk to?”

“I’ve just built up my collective of wine growers and vintners. I’m their voice. Everything I do, every move I make, represents them. They’re counting on me to be a straight arrow. You don’t expect me to jeopardize that with so much as a whiff of controversy.”

Manolo scraped his hand through his hair. “Of course I don’t. Forget it. I wasn’t thinking. Like when I made this gallant gesture to Junie without researching it.”

“Man.” Sam shook his head. “You’re in deep.”

Manolo ducked his chin, though he knew trying to hide his twisted grin from Sam was futile.

“Red saw it, too.”

“Red? I don’t recall sharing anything with her more profound than our opinions on the best burger toppings.”

“Hypothetically, Red might have mentioned you looked a little green when Junie waltzed into the pool party on Daryl Decaprio’s arm.”

“Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?”

“I said hypothetically. But it doesn’t take a therapist. You’d have had to be blind not to see it.”

“Junie’s a nice girl.”

“Who’s caught you, hook, line, and sinker.”

He threw out his arms in surrender. “I like her. What’s not to like?”

“She’s not going to appreciate being embarrassed in front of the whole world.”

That was an understatement. “I’ll figure it out.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing.”

“Yeah. I do. She came to me and asked me to vouch for you, and I didn’t step up to the plate.”

“She did? Junie?”

“The day of the hike. She wanted to know if you could be trusted.”

Manolo’s heart started thudding. There were a million things Sam could have said in response to that question, only a few of which were positive. “What’d you tell her?”

“I told her to listen to her gut.”

“That’s it?” He exhaled. “You went easy on me.”

“I could have done better by you. I should’ve told her about the time you risked your own skin to step in the middle of that kerfuffle involving the AK, over in the sandbox.”

“Aw, cut it out.”

“How, when I was trapped between a rock and a hard place, you got me out.”

“Standard procedure,” said Manolo, flicking a wall switch, pretending to check the power. “You’d have done the same thing.”

“If Red had come sniffing around for intel, you’d have had my back.”

Manolo huffed. “All I’d have done was tell the truth. My record isn’t exactly spotless where women are concerned.”

“About that law. Let me see what I can do. I know a certain soft-bellied, cake-eating politician who owes me a favor.”

“I’m not asking you to pull any strings. I just want to know where we stand before those appliances get here and I need to tell Junie we have to turn around and ship them back.”

“Mind telling me one thing first? What’s going to happen after all this is over?”

“You already know the answer to that. I’m out of here.”

“The Belize job?”

He’d stared at that contract for an hour, deciding whether to sign it. He tried to fool himself, telling himself his main interest in Brendan Hart Vineyards was in the property, not its owner, despite the fact that Junie’s mere presence sent every nerve in his body on edge. That his growing obsession with pleasing Junie was nothing more than the satisfaction he got from helping any person who needed a hand.

But the truth was, he was scared.

Did he want to bed Junie Hart? More than he cared to admit, even to himself. But that wasn’t what scared him. What got to him was knowing in his gut that, unlike with all the others, once he turned that corner with Junie . . . once he held her slender body in his arms . . . devoured every, captivating inch of her, no one else would ever compare. From that moment onward, he would spend more and more time with her in that sweet farmhouse her dad built for her on that fertile hillside overlooking the valley, until the day came when he’d wake up feeling like he had his leg caught in a trap.

No. That wasn’t even what got to him. What scared him, finally, was imagining the pain it would cause both himself and Junie when he had to chew off that leg in order to free himself.