glass left on the floor that Conchita could step on in the morning, when the sound of tires crunching on gravel outside the window grabbed my attention.
"Now who could that be?" Eddie asked. He glanced at his watch—a Rolex replica his husband Curtis had given him for his birthday. "It's late for wine tasters."
David looked out the window. "Black SUV."
My stomach dropped as I realized I had a pretty good idea who it could be. "Grant," I breathed.
Ava's eyes lifted to meet mine. "You told him to meet you here!"
I did a mental forehead thunk. I'd forgotten all about that. I glanced at the trash can where my very urgent stolen evidence now sat.
"What are you going to tell him?" Ava asked.
I bit my lip. "I don't know."
David set his wineglass down. "When the boyfriend arrives, that's my cue to go." Something in his voice was difficult to read, but considering I was in the middle of a mental meltdown, I didn't try very hard.
"Ava, wanna give me a ride back to my car?" he asked.
Ava shot me a questioning look, clearly asking if she should stay or go.
I nodded. "Go ahead." No sense in both of us getting arrested for tampering with evidence.
Then shattering it.
"What?" Eddie's gaze whipped from one of us to the other, clearly sensing he was left out of the loop on something.
"Nothing. Never mind," I told him. "I'll, uh, fill you in tomorrow."
His pudgy face broke into a smile, and he waggled a finger at me. "You better. I can only imagine what that tall drink of water is doing here so late."
Yeah, not that.
In a matter of minutes, the three had made themselves scarce and I'd stashed their wineglasses in the sink. I was just rinsing out the last one when Grant appeared in the doorway.
He was wearing the same boots, jeans, and blue button up shirt, though the top few buttons were undone now and the sleeves rolled past his elbows. The stubble on his jaw was pronounced, and his hair looked as if he'd run his hands through it several times that day, leaving it tussled and enticing enough that I felt my hormones kick up at the sight of him.
"Hey," he said. Gone was the hard Cop Mode I'd seen earlier at the Links, and in its place was a warmer, softer tone that had me almost melting to a confession right on the spot.
I tried to clear the guilt out of my throat while simultaneously checking the floor for any lingering green sparkles. "Uh, hey yourself. What's up?"
He raised a pair of eyebrows at me. "You tell me. I got a message something was urgent."
"Did I say urgent?" I laughed. It sounded a lot like Ava's had at the club. I gave myself a mental shake. "Uh, sorry. I hope I didn't tear you away from anything."
"No." He shook his head slowly. "I was knocking off for the day anyway." He cocked his head at me. "Was something on your mind?"
I licked my lips. Boy, was it. "Uh, I actually, just…" My brain ran in circles, trying to come up with a plausible lie, gaze roving the kitchen until it settled on the counter near the stove. "Conchita made pie!" I pointed to the pastry she'd been working on that morning, now neatly baked and sitting on a glass plate beside the range.
His eyes followed my gesture, a note of suspicion in them.
"It's Mama Halliday's Apple Pie recipe. I thought you might like some." I sent him a big smile.
He paused, and for a second I thought he could see right through me. Finally, he nodded. "Who would turn down pie?"
I tried not to audibly sigh in relief as I turned my back to him to grab a knife from the butcher block.
"So, what have you been up to today?" Grant asked as he took a seat on one of the tall wooden stools at the counter.
"Up to?" I asked, willing my voice not to raise an octave.
"Yeah. What did you do today?" he asked. Still eyeing me.
"Oh. Uh, yeah. I walked the field a bit. Turns out we have deer in the south vineyard. They triggered the motion lights last night," I said, cutting two slices of apple pie and setting them on plates.
"That's trouble."
"Don't I know it." I added a fork to his plate and slid it across the counter to him.
"Then what?"
"Hmm?" I asked, taking a big bite of pie. I was momentarily distracted by the tangy