Luc didn’t want to give his brother the wine. He didn’t want to hear what he’d have to say about it and certainly didn’t need the criticism.
But what was the point of refusing? At this point, throwing in the towel meant letting go of all his old anger, didn’t it?
With a sigh, he grabbed a couple glasses and the thief. He led Olivier into the barrel room, where the wine worked, if not toward greatness, at least toward something.
He eased the bunghole open and served a good helping into the first glass, because what the fuck difference did it make now anyway, if the barrels weren’t topped up?
Trying not to think of that day he’d gone through these same motions with Abby, he went to the other side of the room and served up the second wine for comparison, then handed the glasses to his brother.
“Come on. I want to get a good look at this wine. Can’t see a damned thing in here.” Olivier led him out into the tasting room, where the last of the day’s light illuminated the vintage to a rich, ruby red.
Luc had to force himself to blink and look away as his brother went through the practiced motions of tasting the wine: putting his nose fully in the glass, swirling it, and watching the progression of the legs down the sides.
He heard the sound of slurping as Olivier let his breath float over the liquid in his mouth, humming with what was no doubt disapproval.Bordel, why was he this nervous? He’d decided to leave, so what did it matter?
When Olivier finally deigned to speak, he shocked Luc by asking, “Are you planning to say good-bye to your friend?”
“Who?”
“I’m talking about your girlfriend. The one who’s going to keep you in this fucking place as surely as this wine will.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you staying here,” said Olivier.
Luc started to shake his head and then stopped.
“Wait. You like it?” He flicked his eyes to the glass.
“It’s young.” His brother’s lips turned down in disapproval. God, how very French. “But it’s interesting.”
“Give me that,” Luc demanded. He reached for the glass and took an uncontrolled swig of his own wine.
And itwasinteresting, wasn’t it?
Another exploration, slow this time. Luc enjoyed the finish, which was more complex than anything his grandfather had ever managed to produce, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a bright splash of color, out of place here in the tasting room. It took a few seconds for him to recognize the blanket—no, quilt—that Abby had given him. He hadn’t listened when she’d told him to bring it to the cabin the day she’d thrust it into his hands. The day he’d lost his soul to a kiss.
He barely managed to shove the glass at his brother before bending down, hands on his knees, breath harsh and out of control. On an inhalation so deep it burned his lungs, Luc knew that Olivier was right.I can’t leave.
The room straightened, and he managed to stand up again, focusing hard on Olivier.
“I’m not leaving,” he said, and Olivier just nodded.
Luc saw with crystal clarity how different they were. His brother was the barely rolling hills of Bordeaux, so green and easy, with its neat patchwork of well-behaved vines. But Luc was this place. He was his mountain, wild and rough, its rock belly blown out into the open by tectonic shifts older than human memory. He was broken, splintered, and sullen like this carbonized hillside he’d thought he could leave behind.
Difficult terrain at the best of times, but add in pests, blight, tropical summers—not to mention the neighbors from hell—and you had…a challenge. The thought made him smile, an image ofherrising up in his mind: the biggest challenge of all.
“I’m staying.” His voice came out too loud, and his brother startled.
“I know. Don’t worry. We’ll survive without you. Somehow.” Olivier smirked and then poofed his breath out in that blasé French way that Luc actually missed. “And all for a fucking woman.”
“Yeah,” breathed Luc, feeling lighter than he had in days or months or ever. “All for a woman.”
Olivier handed the glass to him and clinked the second one against it.
“Cheers, my brother,” he said, shaking his head. “And good luck.”
