Rebound Revival (Book 3 in the Rebound Series

Chapter Five

"I thought you might like to see the vines." Max gestures toward a little off-road style cart like the groundskeepers at UI use to get around the fields on campus. I climb into the passenger side. Max drives us down the hill, past a little house near the vines that I assume is where he lives. He takes me around the vineyard itself and shows me the buildings involved with wine production. The fields have groups of workers in them, and the warehouse where the grapes are stored and sorted is busy since the harvest is underway.

He ends the tour back at the main house, a three-story manor that was built over fifty years ago. Max has an office here too, but according to Roger he doesn't use it much, preferring to keep his winemaking records at his house or in the warehouses where the wines are aged. The old kitchen and dining area have been remodeled into a commercial kitchen and on-site tasting room. The main event space occupies the second floor—a large room with hardwood floors that we use for weddings, receptions, and corporate parties. The rooms on the third floor serve as dressing rooms and smaller meeting rooms. After showing me around upstairs, Max ushers me back to the second floor, leading me to the French doors on the west side.

"And now for the crowning feature." He opens the doors with a flourish and escorts me onto the balcony with a hand on my back. This is the first time he's touched me today, but I'm distracted from that fact by the view. This side of the house backs up to the edge of the bluff. The vineyard spreads out below us, and I can see people still at work harvesting the grapes, moving slowly among the vines with their sharp scissors, tossing clusters of grapes into the waiting baskets. The Columbia River snakes behind it on its way to the Pacific.

"It's beautiful." It is. I've never seen anything like it before.

Max's hand is at my jaw, cupping my cheek, and he gently turns my face up toward his. He presses his lips to mine, the pressure firm but not demanding. More like a question. I kiss him back because I can't help myself. I want to kiss him, to keep kissing him, even though I shouldn't. This is bad. Bad for me. Bad for my job. Why am I still kissing him?

Despite the warnings going off in my head, I wait for him to break away first, wanting to soak in the pleasure of his kiss because this will be the last time.

"Have dinner with me tonight." He breathes the words, almost whispering, his breath fanning over my still-parted lips.

I pull back before he can kiss me again, breaking contact with him. "I'm sorry, Max. I can't do that."

He lets his hand fall to his side. "Are you busy tonight?"

"I am. I'm signing a lease and getting the keys to my new house. But I can't see you any other night either."

He blinks, and that one tiny movement seems to have changed his whole demeanor. He seems more distant somehow. "I see."

"Do you? Because you have to realize this is a bad idea. I'm your new employee. We can't ... I won't ... It just won't work." My hands are doing that thing again where they feel like awkward lumps attached to my arms. I'm gesturing while I talk, waving the lumps between us, and I feel like a muppet with someone else controlling my limbs. I force my hands back to my sides under his unflinching stare.

"Yes. I see. I'm sorry." He gives me a short nod. Before I can say anything else, he turns and walks back inside, leaving me on the balcony.

I stand there for a moment and think about his actions, my reactions, and his abrupt departure, unsure how it could've gone differently. When I go inside he's gone, no trace of him in the room. I close the French doors behind me with a quiet click and return to my office.