Forever Summer - Melody Grace Page 0,91

every mud-splattered step. By the time she reached the top of the hill, she was soaked through, but when she caught sight of the faded old sign out front her spirits rose again.

Hastings Family Vineyard & Winery.

A vineyard? It was almost enough to make her believe in destiny.

She looked around. Of to the side were the charred remains of a barn-type structure, but the main building was a big, lodge-style house. She headed inside, already anticipating her celebratory glass of wine, but when she stepped through the doors, she found the place was deserted. Not just empty, but eerily, horror-movie empty. The lights were off, despite the rainstorm, and there was a faded, dusty feeling lingering in the main lobby.

“Hello?” she called out, but there was no reply. “Anyone here?”

Silence.

Well, if there was nobody around, they wouldn’t mind if she ducked into the restrooms. Jules spied a sign on the door down the hall and practically sprinted over. Relief. In more ways than one. She washed her hands under the ice-cold faucet and reemerged feeling like a new woman.

A new woman who could really use a glass of wine.

She followed the hallway into what was clearly a wood-paneled tasting room. Faded old armchairs were set out by the fire, and an weathered, pockmarked bar was set up along one wall, with bottles of wine gathering dust on the shelf. The rain beat down outside, and Jules figured she wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while, so she ducked behind the bar and searched for a good cabernet. She found a bottle with a price tag that didn’t make her wince and popped the cork, pouring herself a generous glass.

“What are you doing?”

Jules whirled around with a yelp. “You scared me!” she exclaimed, taking in the stranger.

The tall, handsome stranger.

Hello.

Jules caught her breath. Her pulse was still racing, and it had nothing to do with the surprise—and everything to do with the man currently glaring at her from across the bar. He had tawny hair and blue eyes, with a week’s worth of beard on his strong jaw. Even with a scowl on his face, he looked scruffy and delicious—in jeans and a flannel shirt, he was the exact opposite of her ex and his neatly pressed button-downs.

The button-downs that, Jules hated to admit, she’d wound up pressing for him.

“You’re not supposed to be back there,” the man said, folding his arms. Which just showed off his tanned forearms, dusted lightly with blond hair. Jules tried not to stare. She’d always been a sucker for a good forearm.

“Do you work here?” she asked, cursing the fact she probably looked like a drowned rat. She frantically smoothed down her dripping hair and beamed at him. “Great! I’ll take this bottle.”

“We’re closed,” he replied shortly.

“Oh. What time do you open?” she asked hopefully. “Because if it’s soon, then maybe …”

“We’re closed,” he repeated.

“Well, since I’ve already poured …” Jules flashed what she hoped was a winning smile and raised her glass. “Want one?”

The man picked up the bottle and checked the label. He snorted. “No thanks.”

Jules took a sip—and winced. The wine had a metallic tang, like it had already turned. “Good call,” she said, but she took another gulp, all the same. “I didn’t mean to come barging in,” she continued. “But I got a flat tire, just down the hill, and I was hoping for some help.”

The man looked at her, clearly exasperated. “You want me to change your tire?”

Jules narrowed her eyes at his condescending tone. “I can change it myself just fine. I need to borrow a jack, that’s all.”

“I’m kind of busy right now,” the man said with a sigh, even though she could have heard a pin drop. “Maybe try walking into town.”

He turned to go, and for some reason, this was the final straw for Jules. All the frustration, disappointment, and rejection she’d tried so hard to hold back suddenly burst to the surface. Why was she always the one left to try and clean up the mess alone?

What was it about her that made her so damn disposable?

“Are you serious?” she demanded, fury flooding hot in her veins. “Because look around: I’m the only customer you have. And I’m not even asking the world here, just one small act of kindness to make up for the crap-ton of terrible things that have happened today. But no, apparently, that’s asking too much. Because you would rather have me hike another five miles in the pouring rain