Free Tangled Vines: An Australian Rural Romance by Nicole Flockton Page B

listened to her. She laughed at herself, taking a few moments to think, to eliminate where Kyle could be. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom? Maybe he hadn’t been running away from her at all.
    She scoffed out loud. Of course he was running away. Who wouldn’t? She would too after displaying the type of emotion he’d shown her in the vineyard. The only other place Jordan could think of where Kyle would go was his bedroom. She hadn’t entered the room, only poked her head in when she’d been deciding which room to sleep in. It hadn’t felt right to sleep in Kyle’s room. Thank goodness she hadn’t.
    It took her only a few seconds before she stood in front of Kyle’s shut bedroom door. She placed her ear against the wood, straining to hear any sound at all coming from the interior of the room.
    Jordan knocked on the door, turning the door handle at the same time. There Kyle sat on his bed, holding a frame in his hand.
    “Hey,” she spoke quietly, wanting to let him know he wasn’t alone.
    With slow, measured steps she walked to the bed and sat down next to him. She knew she was taking a lot of liberties, acting without Kyle’s consent. She also knew if she didn’t, he would shut down. Close the door on the emotions he’d let out.
    She glanced at the frame in his hand. She couldn’t clearly see the photo it contained.
    “What are you looking at?”
    “Nothing,” he said as he made a move to put it back on his bedside table. She reached out and stilled his hand.
    “Show me, please.”
    “Why?” He turned to face her, his eyes bleak, lacking any sort of emotion. They were still bloodshot, a combination from his previous evening’s alcoholic bender and from the tears he’d shed. “Why should I show you? You don’t mean anything to me.”
    She flinched at his harsh words. Someone else may have run from him then. Jordan knew the words were spoken out of anger.
    “You’re right.” She shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything and you don’t mean anything to me either. So why don’t I buy you a bottle of bourbon or maybe whiskey, or is vodka your choice of poison? Then you can drink it down and make everything go away.”
    “Sounds like a great idea. There’s a bottle of bourbon in the bar. That should suit me quite nicely, thank you.”
    “It won’t work, Kyle.”
    “What won’t work?”
    “Drinking until you pass out. It didn’t help you last night, did it? When you sober up, it’s all still here. Every horrid detail of what happened is still here.”
    “Don’t give me some half-assed psycho-babble. You’re no shrink. Go tend to your vines. You can talk to them to your heart’s content. Maybe they’ll appreciate your amateur shrink efforts.” He stood and put the picture back on the table. “I don’t want or need it.”
    He walked out of the room.
    Anger steamed up inside of her. If he wanted to fight and yell at her, he could. She could fight and yell back with the best of them. Jordan got up, grabbed the photo, and went searching once again for Kyle.
    She found him in the living room sitting on the couch about to pour a drink. Jordan raced over and grabbed the bottle out of his hand.
    “Shit, Jordan, just leave me alone.”
    Placing the photo on the coffee table, she swiped the screw top for the bourbon and put it back on. The temptation to take it to the kitchen and empty it down the sink was strong.
    “Sorry, buddy, I’m not going anywhere.”
    “What the fuck did I do to deserve a nosy winemaker living in my house when all I want is to be alone?”
    “Dumbass luck I guess.”
    “Why is this so important to you, Jordan?”
    Jordan went back to where Kyle was sitting on the couch. “Because,” she pointed to the picture, “they would hate to see you drinking yourself into the ground.”
    “How would you know? You don’t even know them. They’re probably glad I’m doing this shit. It’s what I deserve.”
    “Why? What did you do to them?”
    “I left them when I