“Okay. Let’s break it down. This,” she waved toward the vines, “is obviously something you are good at and care about.”
“Check.”
“And the wines.”
“The whole process.”
“Business is a part of that process too.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“Sorry.”
“Rid-ley!” But when she looked over at him he was smiling.
“Hello, Gudgeon.”
“Go to hell, Claremont.” But she could feel her own smile. “Other things you’re good at? Besides picking up loose women.”
“You were less loose than any I picked up before,” then he whistled in disgust. “That sure could have come out way better.”
“Court fool.” It earned her a snort if not a laugh. “What else?”
“I’m a fair motorcycle mechanic, but nothing to write home about. If I had a home.”
That got her attention. It took a while, sitting there in th
