No follow-up, no sarcasm.
It was weird, but also kind of nice.
He’d spent the past few days dreading this car trip, certain he’d be subjected to Lark’s special brand of nonstop chatter, to her constantly flipping through his Spotify, changing the music to something faster and louder. He’d even anticipated needing to stop a few times because Lark wasn’t the type of person who could sit for four hours straight. So he was shocked she still hadn’t demanded a break for the restroom or snacks.
He’d actually decided to approach this trip as if he was traveling with a toddler, pep-talking himself into being patient with Lark.
The pep talk hadn’t been necessary.
Maybe Nora losing her shit had actually worked. Maybe Lark had finally realized that she had to be more serious about her work, that she needed to settle down a bit. Lark had always struck him as the type of person who bulldozed her way through life, unconcerned with the consequences, but today, he was starting to wonder if this quieter version was proof that she could rein herself in when it mattered.
She’d never worked a festival before, and while she was a natural when it came to doing the tastings at the winery, maybe she wasn’t feeling as confident about the change of location.
“We should be there in about an hour. Since our hotel rooms won’t be ready until later this afternoon, I planned for us to go straight to the fairgrounds. We’ll have to check in later tonight, after we’re finished.”
She nodded. “No problem.”
“Do you have any questions?” he asked. “I know you’ve never worked a festival before.”
He fully expected her to wave him off. Despite her current demeanor, Lark was never lacking in confidence or bravado. If she didn’t know the answers, she tended to just make up her own.
So he was stunned when she nodded. “Do you usually start with whites or reds?”
Grayson blinked and glanced over, certain he’d misheard her. “Sorry, what?”
“For tastings like this,” she clarified, turning toward him. “Is there, like, a progression you prefer? Light to heavy? Sweet to dry? Should we do the same things we do at the winery, or is this a different situation, since I suspect we’re going to have to move faster?”
Okay. Now he was definitely being punked.
“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “Typically whites first. Lighter-bodied wines before the heavier reds, just like we do at the winery. It keeps the palate from getting overwhelmed.”
“That makes sense.” She leaned her head back against the seat, considering. “Do we let the attendees pick and choose what they want to try, or run through them all?”
Grayson’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
Who the hell was this woman?
“If they don’t want to taste them all, we don’t make them. No sense wasting a pour of good red on someone who’s only interested in super-sweet cheerleader wine.”
Lark laughed at his joke.
“As you know, I don’t do the tastings very often,” he added. “According to Maverick, I don’t have the disposition for it. That’s why you’re here.”
“Oh, yeah, I know that,” she said, in an easy tone that sounded somewhat forced. “But you’ll be doing the tastings with me, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Mav says this festival is heavily attended and the lines tend to get long. We’ll both be working fast and furiously.”
“Do you ever build the tasting like a story?” she asked, genuinely curious. “I mean, I was reading something about wine tastings on Google, and I saw an article about how it’s good to guide people through it instead of just giving them samples.”
He frowned, turning toward her again.
Her expression was open, interested, and there wasn’t a single trace of mockery.
“Yeah. When there’s time, that’s exactly what I try to do.”
Her lips curved into a smile—soft, not smug. “I like that.”
“Sadly, I’m not sure we’ll get to do much of that this weekend.” Grayson’s gaze returned to the road, and he shook his head once, more to himself than anything else.
