The Crush (Oregon Wine Country #1)(60)

She grinned up at him. “Where have you been?” she asked, still groggy. “Did you get any rest?”

“I had to check on something for Sam. Then I showered and took a power nap.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, tasting the sauce with a fingertip.

He held his spoon poised, waiting for her reaction.

“Mmm. Amazing.”

“Got to keep up your strength. Damn, girl. I thought my family worked hard.”

After supper, they went back down into the cellar and racked some more, until neither could drag one foot in front of the other.

One day rolled seamlessly into the next. Following a few hours of sleep, Manolo returned to the farmhouse at dawn, fried some eggs, and worked next to Junie until all the wine had been filtered from the wooden barrels into the steel tank, just in time for the bottlers’ arrival the next morning.

Junie staggered from the tank to where Manolo was still washing and sterilizing barrels and picked up the hot water hose.

“I got that,” said Manolo.

“I’ll help you finish—” Her words trailed off. She staggered.

“Go on in and go to bed.”

*

Junie felt like she had only just closed her eyes when her alarm went off at dawn. She stumbled downstairs in the oversized T-shirt she used as a nightie to make coffee, smiling when she saw that the task was already done. She poured herself a cup and took it out to the front porch, where Manolo was admiring the sunrise, as alert as if he’d been up for hours.

“There she is,” he said, eyeing her appreciatively. “Morning, Buttercup.”

“It’s nice getting up to coffee already made,” she said, suddenly shy. “I’m starting to get spoiled.”

“You deserve someone to spoil you.” He walked over, took her mug from her hand and set it on the windowsill. Then he picked her up and set her down on the porch railing, facing him.

“What are you doing?” She giggled.

His response was to move in between her legs, making her nightshirt ride up to her panty line. Then he reached under her naked thighs, pulling her in until his hips pressed flush against her.

Instinctively, she clamped her legs around his waist and threw her arms around his neck, returning his surprising, delicious kisses until they were both breathless.

Junie felt the warmth of his hands through the thin cotton as they traveled over her body. She arched toward him, and he placed his right hand over her breast, tentatively at first, as if it were a sacred object. She moaned, and his touch became urgent, molding her small breast to his large hand, centering his palm over her erect nipple. He dragged his mouth down her neck and cupped her rear end with both hands, kneading and pulling her in closer and closer until she felt his unmistakable arousal between her legs.

When his mouth left hers abruptly, she felt bereft.

His attention was fixed over her shoulder.

She turned to see the Haggartys’ shiny, mobile bottling plant rolling toward them.

She hopped off the railing and made a dash for the door. “I need to go get dressed,” she breathed.

“You go ahead,” said Manolo, his eyes on the road. “Where do they work?”

“The trailer’s self-contained. Everything happens inside it. I just need to get it as close as possible to my tanks.”

“I’ll guide them back to the crush pad.”

Junie and the Haggartys confirmed the day’s plan and the process quickly got underway.

*

Haggarty and Manolo took an instant liking to each other. Maybe it was because they both kept their facts plainspoken and their emotions bottled up.

Manolo stroked the silver exterior of Haggarty’s custom semi. “Quite a rig you got there.”

Haggarty lit up. “Want a tour?”

Manolo stepped up into the trailer.

“We run a crew of eight,” Haggarty yelled above the continual rattling of glassware. “The bottles travel through a series of machines on their way from one end of the trailer to the other. This here high-tech machine sucks all the air out of the bottle so no oxygen gets into the wine. See?”

Manolo nodded in the din.

“After the bottles get filled, they pass along this conveyor to the labeler, then to the pack-off table.”

Junie met him when he exited the trailer. “Pretty impressive, huh? Way more cost efficient than installing my own bottling line.”

“Amazing. Looks like there’s nothing for me to do here. I’d like to go get that pizza oven installed now, if you’ll let me.”

“Let you? I’ve been waiting all month!”

He grinned. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you trust me?”

“You’re infuriating, you know that? If you weren’t so handy, I’d . . .”

“You’d what? Now, don’t get all excited, because I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to be pleasuring women today.”

“Excited?” she huffed. She took a swing at his arm and missed when he arced his body out of the way. “Who’s excited? I’m not excited!”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go show these fixtures who’s boss.”

Beaming inside and out, Manolo headed off to put the finishing touches on Junie’s bistro. When he glanced behind him a moment later, he caught her looking after him with an exasperated expression.