“Well this is bloody nice,” Lachlan says quietly as we get out of the car and gather our stuff. The heat blankets us as we cross the lot and enter the hotel lobby. Immediately we see the gang.
“Heeeeeeeeeeey!” Bram yells with a big smile, glass of red wine in his hand, coming over to us. He pulls Lachlan into a hug, slapping him on the back, and then does the same to me.
“My god, Bram, are you drunk already?” I ask as he pulls away.
“We got here early,” he says, and gestures to the rest of them. Linden and Steph stroll over, also with wine, while I spot Nicola in the background talking to someone at the front desk.
“Hey you two,” Steph says, hugging me as Bram did, though she doesn’t do the same to Lachlan. Her eyes wander up and down, almost as if she’s intimidated by him. Maybe because Lachlan is frowning at her something fierce. I know that being around a bunch of people has probably put him on edge already, and I reach out for his hand, giving it a squeeze.
He seems to relax before my eyes, and Steph’s gaze bounces between us. She gives me a small smile, and Linden steps in to give his cousin one of those handshakes that takes up the whole forearm.
“Glad you came,” Linden says before he spots the dog carrier. He drops to a crouch and says, “Aw, who is this?”
Emily immediately starts barking at him which makes Linden jump back and up. “Jesus, Lachlan, he’s as surly as you.”
“She,” Lachlan corrects. “This is Miss Emily.”
Linden snorts. “Bit of a pansy name for a dog. And you named her?”
“Aye,” Lachlan says, staring Linden down with a hint of crazy eyes.
“Let’s get us checked in,” I say, pulling on Lachlan’s arm and leading him over to the front desk.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
He grunts in response. I assume that means he’s fine. Or that I shouldn’t worry about it anyway.
We say hi to Nicola when we check in, and once we get the keys to our room, she tells me to come meet them at the wine cellar on property for a group wine tasting, even though it seems that they’ve been doing plenty of tasting on their own already.
Our room is on the ground floor and done up in the Mediterranean style. Lachlan lets Emily out of the crate, then sticks her on a leash, opening the door to our patio and leading her outside to pee. I quickly freshen up in the bathroom, stretching my limbs after being cooped up in the car, and then flounce on the king-size bed, testing the firmness of the mattress. It feels like a dream. I could fuck all night on it.
When he comes back in, Emily hops up on the bed beside me, and I realize that fucking the day and night away might be difficult when the dog will be watching our every move again.
Lachlan lies down beside me on his back, putting his thick arm across my stomach. I watch him inhale and exhale, his chest rising and falling.
“Already feel like being antisocial?” I ask him.
“Mmmm,” he says, staring at me. “I’d rather be in here with you.”
“Well, if you have anything amorous planned, we may have to do it outside. Miss Emily here will be watching our every move.”
He shrugs. “So we’ll put her in the bathroom.”
“She’ll bark.”
He sighs. “Yes, she will.”
I turn into him and run my finger over his forehead, smoothing out the creases. “Always so expressive,” I tell him, pressing into the notch between his brows. “Always thinking about something.”
“I’d pay to have someone turn off my brain, to be honest,” he says. I trail my finger down his nose, over the slight bump, then the curve of his lips. He opens them, taking my fingertip between his teeth and biting down gently.
I watch him closely, and I can see those wheels turning. I lower my voice a register. “I know just the thing to make it stop.” I take my finger out of his mouth and kiss him softly. He lets out a faint moan that I can feel in my core. I put my hand on his chest and push myself back. “But first, let’s go to the wine tasting.”
He shuts his eyes and his head flops back onto the pillow. “Do we have to? Why can’t we just stay here and you do that thing that turns off my thoughts, and I’ll do that thing that makes your cunt wetter than a waterslide.”
“Come on,” I tell him, throwing his arm off me and getting up. “We’re doing this because you want to see your cousins before you go, and they want to see you. Let’s just have some wine and disappear.”
He grumbles at that, but gets up. We leave Emily with her dinner and some water then head out into the hotel.
The building itself is huge, and we find ourselves strolling through courtyards and past the opulent pool area. It’s busy, and everyone seems to have a glass of wine in hand which makes something in my head stutter and pause. Maybe a vineyard wasn’t really the best place to bring Lachlan.
I glance up at him as he walks beside me, eyes darting around, never resting in one place. I take in what I know about him. Behavioral problems. Tattoos that hint at a past shadowed with downfall and demons. The fact that he doesn’t drink much, if at all, might not just be about the rugby training. It might be about a whole other thing.
But he hasn’t said anything to me about it, and because it’s so personal, I’m not going to ask. People who are fucking for a week don’t need to disclose the nitty gritty, perhaps painful, details of their lives to each other.
The wine cellar is located in the Estate Cave which is set right into the rolling hillside of grape vines that flank the back of the property. Inside it’s cool and dim, with the spa entrance to the left of us and the wine tasting bar to the right. Ahead of us are big dark doors that just beg to be pushed open.
I’m in the middle of doing so, peeking my head inside to see a large, empty cavern with curved stone walls and hanging chandeliers, when Lachlan pulls me back and Steph is screeching in my ear.
“Yay, you came!” she says, and when I turn to look at her, she gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. I exchange a look with Lachlan. She’s even drunker than before.
“Of course we came,” I tell her as she beckons us to follow her into the bar. There are a few people lined up along its length, looking over lists and being doted on by wannabe sommeliers, but we follow Steph to the back where they’re all sitting around a private table.
They all cheer when they see us, and I give them a quick one-handed wave in response.
“So,” I say, looking over their empty, wine-stained glasses. “You’ve got quite the head start.”
“We’re just one drink in,” Nicola says, gesturing to the two empty seats next to her. Lachlan and I both sit down, and the wine girl appears immediately.
“Hi,” she says in an overly bubbly voice. I guess you have to be bubbly if you want to sell expensive crates of vintage. “Let me top you two off. We started off with a light sauvignon blanc blend.” She reaches with her bottle, expertly pouring in a mouthful, but when she moves for Lachlan’s glass, he puts his hand over it.
“I shouldn’t,” he says, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
I look at Bram curiously to see if this is odd behavior from his cousin or not. Bram in turn is watching Lachlan carefully, though he doesn’t seem surprised.
“Would you like another kind of wine?” the girl asks.
“Give him the red,” Linden says. “He seems more like a red wine kind of guy. Right? Less sugar in red wine.”
Bram gives his brother a conflicted look and opens his mouth to say something when Lachlan shrugs and removes his hand from the glass.
“Sure, red is fine,” he concedes.
I feel like everyone around the table has suddenly tensed, making Lachlan the center of attention so I quickly say, “Bram, thank you so much for arranging this.”
And then everyone’s attention is on Bram with numerous expressions of gratitude. I put my hand on Lachlan’s leg, his muscles flexing as he anxiously taps his foot on the floor.
The wine girl, whose name tag reads “Jennifer Rodriguez,” comes back and pours Lachlan a hefty dollop of their red grenache blend. She’s actually quite attractive in the white teeth, tanned skin, wavy, honey-colored hair, overly obnoxious way. She won’t stop making eyes at Lachlan either.