More precious than ever, as time extends.
What am I?
“Vacation?” Addie turns to me, a crease between her dark brows. “No, that doesn’t make sense. It fits, but there’s no vacation room—” She halts, eyes growing wide. “It’s a book!” she whisper-shouts. “To the library!”
“No, it’s—”
“A book!” she mouths, adon’t start with melook crossing her features. “It fits, Colt! At first, it’s a treat in the sun for the kids, then it’s for adults—”
“No, it doesn’t fit. Come on.” I take her hand, but she yanks it away, arms akimbo, cheeks flushed.
“Itfits! The older, the wiser!”
Seeing as I’m not winning this argument with words, I hoist her over my shoulder. It’s starting to become a habit, and something I enjoy way too much when her hip juts against my head. She’s light but furious.
“Wait!” She pummels my back with her small fists. “You’re not listening, you daft twit! Where are we going?”
“You’re just making words up as you go, aren’t you? And it’syouwho doesn’t listen. It’s not a book.”
“Yes, it is!” she wails. “You’ll make us lose!”
She has more spirit in her little finger than Conor has in his entire fucking body. Ignoring her thrashing, I don’t slow down until we’re in the elevator, riding to the lowest level.
As soon as her feet hit the ground, she charges at me, all beautiful wrath. If only she knew how much I get off on this... my brain short-circuits, showing me enticing images of Addie on her knees, making up for acting out—
“We’ll lose!” she yells, pounding my chest. “You’ll end up paired with my mother, you pig-headed nutter!”
“I love it when you talk dirty, baby, but zip it for one damn second. It’swine, Addie. At first, when it’s a treat in the sun—”
“It’s a grape!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “Yes! Once it’s turned into wine it’s fun, and more expensive the older it gets. God, you’re brilliant!” She jumps, wrapping her arms around my neck, and kisses my cheeks before quickly hopping off. “To the cellar!”
“What the fuck is a pig-headed nutter anyway?”
“A stubborn, bat-shit crazy jerk.”
“How abouttwit?”
“An idiot. A fool.”
“You’re so classy,” I say, chuckling quietly.
She’ll be the death of me, I swear. How fucking bizarre is it that I find her extremely hot when she yells at me?
Entering the cellar, we find a table in the middle. No note, just puzzle pieces scattered all over. I get to work, separating the border from everything else.
“This will take a while.”
“What are you doing?” Addie asks, barreling her way to the table. “It’s a wine bottle, can’t you see? We just need to figure out which one.”
I scan the puzzle pieces, a riot of colors all blending together, assaulting my eyes. “How can you tell what it is?”
She points to disjointed writing on the scattered pieces. Partial words—Leflaon one,Cruon another, theniveandard-Mo. She takes a few moments to locate all the relevant pieces, then proudly claps her hands, aligning them in order.
“Leflaive Bâtard-Montrachet Grand Cru. That was easy!”
She dashes to the white wines on the left, concentrating on the bottles as she scans the shelves. I’m a beat slower to follow, captivated by the way she rises on her toes with a look of genuine joy on her face, and how fucking gorgeous she is when she smiles.
“Aha!” She plucks a bottle from the rack, turning it every which way, looking forsomething.
