Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(44)

“Good,” I said with a laugh. “Thanks, Des. I’m hoping to be back later tonight, but I’m sure I’ll miss anything scheduled today.”

“Not a problem. Be safe on the road—it’s bad out there.”

We hung up and I called Winnie. Glancing down at Gianni next to me—his eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and even—I decided to take my phone into the bathroom so I could actually talk to her.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” I shut the bathroom door and perched on the edge of the tub. “It’s me.”

“Hey! How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t want Gianni to hear me. He’s asleep in the bed, so I’m in the bathroom.”

Winnie laughed. “This is so insane.”

“You have no idea.”

She gasped. “Did something happen? Something happened.”

“Yeah—twice.”

“Shut up! Tell me everything!”

“I will, but first, are you at Abelard? What’s happening?”

“Yes. Dex managed to get me here about an hour ago, but it was rough. In fact, he stayed with me so he wouldn’t have to leave and come back later.” She giggled. “I’m putting him to work.”

“Doing what?”

“Right now he’s shoveling the front steps, but after that he’s going to help Felicity and me serve lunch.”

“Felicity is there too?”

“Yes. My dad brought her a little bit ago, and she’s been working in the kitchen ever since. She’s making soup and sandwiches.”

“Please thank her for me.” The tension in my shoulders eased. “So you’re all good there?”

“Totally. And I think Gianni’s dad is heading our way this afternoon to help with dinner.”

“Are guests miserable being stuck inside?”

“Not at all! Some people wandered out into the snow for hikes, some people are just lounging in the lobby by the fire, playing cards or board games, lots of people are asking when the tasting room will open.”

I laughed. “Should be soon. It’s nice of Dex to help out—please tell him thanks.”

“I will, now on to the good stuff! What happened with Gianni?”

“Uh, lots of things.” My stomach whooshed.

“And? Was it good?”

“Yes,” I whispered even softer. “Crazy good. So good I’m mad about it.”

She squealed with delight. “I knew it would be.”

“I didn’t even have to fake the finish!”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

“I know, but it’s so annoying. How come I have such good chemistry with that asshole?”

“Because this has been simmering for a long time, Ell. All that built-up tension was bound to erupt.”

“I guess.”

“So what’s the scoop? Are you guys a thing now?”

“No! I don’t like him any better—I just liked the sex.”

“So why not see where things lead?”

“Because it was just a blizzard bang, okay? It didn’t mean anything.” A knock on the bathroom door made me jump up. “Shit! I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. Be safe.”

I ended the call and pulled the door open. Gianni stood there with his hair matted and mussed from his winter hat and maybe the pillow. “Sorry,” he said, running a hand through it. “I drank too much coffee. I need to use the bathroom.”

“It’s fine. I was just talking to Winnie.”

“In there?” He cocked one brow.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” I slipped past him into the room.

“Everything okay at work?”

“Yes. Have you heard from the towing company again?”

He shook his head. “No. They said they’d call me later this afternoon.”

“Okay.” I glanced at the window. “Should we try to start it again?”

“No!” he said with such vehemence that it startled me. “I mean, I’ll try it again in a minute. I don’t want you to have to go outside.” He shut the bathroom door.

After one more hopeless look out the window—the snowpocalypse raged on—I plugged my phone in and flopped into bed. When Gianni came out of the bathroom, he put all his winter gear on again and went outside. A few minutes later, he came back in and shook his head.

“Still dead?” I asked, stifling a yawn.

“Still dead.” He took off his stuff again and looked at his phone. “And no call from the towing company. Sorry.”

“Whatever.” I sighed and plumped up my pillow before falling back and staring up at the ceiling. “I’m giving up on this day. And this week. Maybe this year.”

“It’s only January.” Gianni lay on his side, facing me, head propped in his hand.

“I know. But nothing is going right so far.”

“Stop it.” He pushed some hair off my face. “The blizzard is out of your control, and Fiona Duff is just an editor. Who even reads magazines anymore? You can do bigger and better things.”