Free Once Upon a Wine by Beth Kendrick

“I’m going to be very successful.
Very
successful.”
    When Ian talked about his family’s land, she could sense how much he loved it. The land, the growing cycle, the lifestyle. But no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t feel the way he felt about it.
    She tried to appreciate the smell of fresh fields when she turned the soil over in her hands. She tried to read the weather blogs he’d recommended. She tried to identify the moment that a plant “broke,” just as the new green sprout appeared. She just couldn’t seem to find any passion for corn.
    But she had plenty of passion for Ian. She couldn’t get enough ofhis time, his body, the sound of his voice. Their preferred activity was to park out in his family’s farmland, under the stars, and make out.
    â€œWhat’s going to happen in September?” he asked her one sultry night in July as they stretched out, both topless, on a blanket in the bed of the truck.
    â€œI have to go to California.” The reality started to sink in as she said the words.
    â€œYou don’t
have
to go to California.” He pulled her closer against his chest.
    She went still for a moment, thinking about that.
What if he’s right? What if I stay here?
    â€œWhat kind of restaurant do you want to open?” he asked, breaking the silence.
    This was one of things she liked best about him: He was always interested in what she had to say, even when she had her shirt off.
    â€œI’m not sure.” She shifted, rested her cheek against his warm bare skin. “In my mind, it’s a fancy, upscale lounge. Like a really fancy bar. By the beach, maybe.”
    â€œThat’s really what you want to do?”
    â€œYeah. It’s what I’m going to do.” She pressed her lips over the steady thud of his heartbeat.
    â€œBut why do you want to?”
    She lifted her face. “What do you mean?”
    â€œWhy do you want to open a restaurant?” He rested his hand on her lower back. “You could do anything you want.”
    Cammie hesitated for a moment before confessing the truth. “My mom always wanted to open a restaurant. She was a great cook; she would try anything. And she loved entertaining. She always said when my dad stopped traveling for work so much and I started high school, she’d open a little café.”
    â€œBut she didn’t?” Ian asked.
    Cammie sighed. “She died when I was in sixth grade.”
    He didn’t say anything, just held her close.
    â€œBreast cancer,” Cammie said, as if this told the whole story. She supposed that in a way, it did. “When she died, she left me a trust fund. I gained access to it when I turned twenty-one. I can’t cook the way she did, but I love that feeling of getting people together. Dressing up. Escaping from reality a little bit. She and I were alike that way. That, and we have the same middle name.”
    Ian rubbed her bare skin, sending a delicious shiver through her. “What’s your middle name?”
    Cammie blew out a breath. “It’s weird.”
    He waited.
    â€œReally weird. It’s a family thing.”
    â€œYou get that the longer you put this off, the more I want to know?”
    She turned her head so she didn’t have to see his expression when she confessed, “It’s October.”
    â€œLike the month?”
    â€œLike the month,” she confirmed. “That was my grandmother’s middle name, too.”
    He let this sink in for a moment. “Were you born in October?”
    Cammie laughed. “No. January twenty-ninth.”
    He laughed, too. “Hang on. You’re initials are COB?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œAnd you don’t like corn?”
    â€œOh, the irony.” They laughed and kissed and laughed some more.
    Finally, Ian pulled away. “You know, there are a lot of restaurants in Delaware. Graduate schools, too. You could do everything