Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(32)

“That’s it?” April looked a little disappointed. “Huh. I brought wine for nothing.”

“Well, what were you expecting to happen?”

“Honestly? More ass-grabbing.”

“I have to admit, I thought about it. I haven’t felt very desirable in the last year or so. And now all of a sudden to have someone telling me I’m beautiful and sexy and he wants me . . . it’s messing with my head. It feels so good to hear those things, I just want more. It’s like a drug.” I shrugged. “Maybe he feels that way too.”

“So you think it’s just a surface-level attraction kind of thing?”

“Who knows?” I tossed my hands in the air. “I really like him. He’s gorgeous and sensitive and smart, and the physical attraction is definitely strong. But I haven’t even been here a week. And we agreed that it’s not worth ruining what could be a nice friendship—not to mention that he works for our family. He feels totally weird about that, and I don’t blame him.”

April sighed. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Plus, he said something else that I keep thinking about.” I played with the end of my loose French braid.

“What?”

“He said he doesn’t know what he wants. To me, that means he recognizes that whatever we’re feeling could just be a temporary physical thing and he might never want more than that.” I shook my head. “I can’t risk that. I can’t put myself in a situation where I might develop feelings for someone, and then it turns out he doesn’t want me that way. I just went through it, and it tore me apart.”

April put a hand on my leg. “Be right back. Grabbing that wine.”

I smiled, though I suddenly felt like crying. “Okay.”

While she was in the kitchen, I wondered where Henry was tonight, if he was thinking about me. Would he come into work tomorrow? Would it be wise to stay away if he did? Or would we be perfectly fine, now that we’d gotten that kiss out of the way and openly discussed how we felt about it?

When April came back, I decided to ask her.

“I need some advice,” I said, after she handed me a glass of something cold and white.

“I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask, but I’ll try.” April settled next to me again.

“I’d like to learn more about the winemaking at Cloverleigh, maybe start working on a regular basis in the winery, and Henry agreed to sort of take me on as a student.”

“Okay.” April took a sip of wine.

“It would mean spending time together, sometimes alone. Do you think it’s a bad idea? Should I just ask Chloe to train me if she can find the time?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Please.”

“I think you should be careful.” She reached out and touched my wrist. “But only because I can see that you’re really confused and torn about your feelings for him. And I know how lonely he’s been. It’s easy to sense the chemistry between you two, and I just feel like it would be really hard to toe the just-friends line if you had to spend all kinds of time alone together.”

“It would be,” I admitted.

“I know I encouraged you the other night to get to know him, and if I’m honest, I’d sort of hoped something might develop over time, but I didn’t think it would happen so fast.” She smiled. “I thought maybe you’d be more like Meg and Noah—what did it take them, fifteen years?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, it definitely makes sense to be just friends first.”

“And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t learn everything you can from him—he’s brilliant at what he does, and I’m sure he’d be a great teacher. But training under Chloe would probably be safer.” She shrugged. “Maybe let a little time go by before spending time alone with Henry? A couple weeks? Let the flames die down a bit?”

“It was just a kiss,” I said defensively. “There weren’t exactly flames.”

She tossed me a knowing look. “You don’t grab a guy’s ass while he’s kissing you if you don’t want to know what kind of heat he’s packing, that’s all I’m saying.”

Now she had me laughing again. “There was some serious heat,” I confessed.

“See?” She clucked her tongue. “Damn that old clock.”

“It was probably a sign,” I said with a sigh. “It was Grandma Sawyer telling me our timing is all wrong.”

“Listen, if Grandma Sawyer can send us messages about our love lives from beyond the grave, I’m taking that clock home and asking it some questions.”

“Like what?” Curious, I took a sip of wine. It reminded me of the riesling Henry and I had tasted the other night, and set butterflies loose in my belly.

“Like where is my soul mate and why is he avoiding me?”

“April, you’re not even looking for your soul mate. You spend all your time at work—you’re as bad as Henry.”

“I know.” She looked into her wine. “But I’m going to make some changes in the new year. I promised myself.”

“Me too.” I put a hand on her leg. “We can promise each other and keep ourselves accountable.”

She nodded, her expression going surprisingly serious. After a moment, she said, “It’ll be eighteen years soon.”