“How the hell do you know what a paint and sip is?” Chris asks.
Jace grins. “Did you learn that in one of your books?”
“I have sisters,” he says, like it’s obvious.
In front of us, someone clears their throat, and we turn to find a brunette staring back at us. Her hair is pulled back into a tight pony, and she’s wearing a burgundy apron with the vineyard’s logo on it, along with a scowl so deep, it makes my stomach drop as she asks, “Can I help you, gentlemen?”
Chapter 21
TATUM
Ibreathe in the scent of oak and wine. The Riverbank Vineyard is a nice change in atmosphere, and hopefully, exactly what I need to get out of my funk. High wooden beams crisscross above us, strung with delicate fairy lights that cast a warm golden glow over everything in sight. Large windows line the walls, reflecting our own images against the darkness outside.
“This place is gorgeous,” I murmur, taking it all in as we weave between tables toward the back of the room.
Liz points to an empty spot, large enough for all of us and already set up with easels and waves us over. “Here! I found one!”
The space is buzzing with feminine energy—laughter and conversation flowing as freely as the wine. Women of all ages fill the tables, some already opening the paints and prepping their brushes while others ignore the setup altogether, instead,sipping wine and chatting animatedly. At the front of the room, a sample painting of a moonlit lake sits on display—tonight’s project?beside an instructor who patiently waits to begin.
“I’ll grab us a bottle,” Brynn says, heading toward the bar along the far wall where a server in a burgundy apron pours generous samples.
“Make that two bottles,” Samantha calls after her, and we all laugh.
I slide onto one of the chairs at our table, ignoring the heaviness in my chest. Though I’ve kept myself busy these last couple weeks with the girls and Ethan, if I’m being honest with myself, something is missing. And I know exactly what it is. Brandon’s absence feels like walking around with a giant hole in my heart, and a part of me wonders if I’ll ever adjust to the loss.
The girls mentioned the guys were hanging out tonight, and I can’t help but wonder what they’re doing. If Brandon misses me as much as I miss him.
Icy fingers grip the center of my chest at the thought, but I quickly shove them away. Thinking about him hurts too much. Not to mention, it’s pointless. As long as I’m with Ethan, Brandon and I are a thing of the past, and he made sure of that when he stormed out on me at Java, then drove an hour just to assault my boyfriend without even a conversation.
“I bought one red and one white,” Brynn says, interrupting my thoughts as she plunks them down on the table beside me. “Pick your poison, ladies.”
I smile, but pass on the wine, choosing water instead, knowing the alcohol will only exacerbate my melancholic mood. Not only am I dealing with my feelings in regard to Brandon, but Ethan’s upset with me, too. It seems lately I can’t win.
Frowning, I stare down at my blank canvas, paintbrush poised as I recall our argument earlier.
“You’re going out with them again? You sure have been hanging out with them a lot.”
“I thought this is what you wanted?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Tatum. It’s just . . . I miss you. I guess I’m jealous. I wish it was me you were spending all your time with. I want to be your whole world.”
I swallow hard, his words catching in my chest like a burr.Your whole world.It sounds romantic on the surface, but something about it doesn’t sit right with me. I try to dissect it when a loud crash near the entrance of the vineyard breaks through my thoughts. Several heads turn, and a collective murmur ripples through the room.
Beside me, Brynn makes the sign of the cross, then mutters, “Lord, give me patience.”
A laugh bubbles in my chest as I follow the sound of the commotion to the front of the winery where there appears to be a scuffle as a woman in a burgundy apron is trying unsuccessfully to usher several men out—
My laughter dies instantly, my heart droppingto my feet.
Brandon.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him in two weeks, and the sight of him hits me like a shot of espresso straight to my veins.
My senses heighten. I sit up straighter, heart pounding in my chest like a herd of buffalo.
But it’s not just Brandon—Chris, Jace, West, and Damon are all standing there, looking completely out of place among the sea of women, thePaint & Sip Ladies’ Night!sign in pieces at Jace’s feet.
“Gentlemen, this is a ladies’ event!” one of the winery employees hisses. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”
