Wright Rival (Wright)

Jordan’s face softened at her words. She had that effect on him. “All right. We are celebrating.”

Julian and I clapped hands and then barreled through the party and out the side door. We didn’t keep the newest wine in the barn yet. We’d bring it out as a special-edition vintage after we found out about the award. But we had a few cases in the cellar, and we trekked across the lawn to grab the bottles.

Julian shot me a look. “What’s going on with you and Piper?”

“Nothing more than normal.”

“So, you’re antagonizing her for no reason?”

“Not for no reason,” I said with a laugh.

Julian punched in the code to open the cellar, and we entered the long line of wooden wine barrels. The machinery was on one end of the cellar with offices on the other end, and a storage unit was in the middle for processed wine to sell. For the last year, it had been predominantly empty since for our first harvest, we had been using the slightly neglected grapes from when the place was West Texas Winery. Now that we had our own operation, from harvest to bottling, it was running much smoother. And the wine was exponentially better as a result.

“I have a case in my office,” I told Julian. We passed the barrels and headed into my office. I grabbed two bottles, handing them to my cousin. “Should be enough?”

“Probably.”

I grabbed another bottle for safe measure. “Just in case.”

He laughed. “You mean, more for you?”

“This red is the shit. If I do say so myself.”

“It’s your baby.”

I winked. “Obviously.”

I took great pride in looking down at the first bottle that had been all my doing. The label was cream in color with Wright Vineyard written in a fancy blood-red script and a red wax seal with the WV inside it. Under that, it said the vintage—Abbey. My wine. We’d decided a year ago to give the wines names and then describe them under the label. So, the red was Abbey, and the first white, we’d named Annie. Guess that should have been my first clue about the pending engagement.

“So, what is this reason you’re being a dick to Piper?” Julian asked.

“Oh, because it’s fun.”

Julian laughed. “Wow.”

“Yeah. I’m really mature for my age.”

“Sure. Mature. That’s the word I’d use to describe you.”

“Thanks. I try.”

We both laughed as we walked back to the barn. I filched a corkscrew from the bar on our way and had a bottle uncorked when we arrived. One of our bartenders for the night followed us over with a set of new glasses.

I poured tasting portions in each glass and passed them out to our friends. Piper held her hand out for a glass, and Julian offered one out to her. I had no idea what came over me, but I put myself between her and the wine. Julian fumbled the glass with a curse.

“Piper doesn’t get any,” I said with a devilish grin.

“What?” she asked in obvious shock.

“Hollin,” Julian grumbled.

“She’s the enemy.”

“The enemy?” Piper all but growled. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “What the hell?”

“We’re competitors now. I can’t let you sample the goods.”

“As if that’s going to change anything about the competition. We’ve already submitted the wine for sampling.”

I shrugged, unperturbed by the facts of the situation. “So?”

She blinked at me. “You’re really not going to let me have any?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my biceps bulging against the confines of my white T-shirt. “Nope.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that before, babe.”

Her displeasure turned straight primal. She looked half-ready to claw my eyes out at the insinuation in my voice. And there was insinuation in my voice. I couldn’t help it around her. I’d told Julian it was fun. It was. But there was something about poking at Piper. She reacted the best. The soft heave of her chest at the indignation. The dilation of her eyes when she realized I was fucking serious. The clench of her hand for the moment when she was deciding whether or not it was worth dealing with me. There was always a point where she’d tell me to fuck off and walk away, but it was like threading a needle to wait to get there with her.

Today, she chose sass.

“Like I want your shit wine anyway. I’ll stick to French champagne. Since they know what they’re actually doing.”

She rolled her eyes at me and walked back to her awaiting boyfriend and the Veuve we’d been using to celebrate. She thought that she’d won that round. But the look on her face had been success enough.

“Leave her alone,” Julian hissed.

I turned back to my cousin with pure innocence on my face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Must you antagonize her?” Jordan drawled, hefting a bottle of Abbey to examine it.

“I must,” I said with a grin.