Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Only killing if my bestie asks. That’s what ride or die means, Muppet Baby.”
Thankfully, the two of them get along really well. Like well enough that we can all eat beer chicken on her back patio while debating on the best and worst Hollywood movie remakes but not so well that I worry when they’re left alone together while I’m going to the bathroom that she’s gonna try to give him a hand job since I’m not looking, which is something that did happen to Nat in the past.
He’s – again thankfully – not her type.
She wants an older man, tall, looks like a fitness model, sounds like he could run for Congress, already a member of a yacht club, with a soft spot for Alaskan Malamutes like her dog Bear.
And Tate…well, if it isn’t me, he isn’t interested.
No exaggeration.
If I’m in the room, I’m the only “attractive” woman in the room. All are treated friendly but in the way you would your sister or cousin or roommate.
Had I not seen him work magic firsthand with me I would worry that maybe he wasn’t good at flirting, not simply saving it for the one person he’s into.
Knowing all this should keep my worries about having his attention at bay yet that devilish voice that won’t sit down or sit still for too long occasionally gets to me.
“Only riding today, Nat,” he insists on an amused chuckle. “Only. Riding.”
“Unless you’re me,” I state while backing up to let her enter our home, “because I’m driving.”
“You sure you do don’t mind, bella?” my boyfriend concernedly asks, palm replanting itself on the small of my back. “They’re my familia. I can chauffeur their arses around.”
“You can’t even spell chauffeur,” teases Felipe. “Too many syllables for you.” His attention immediately swings to Nat to whom he flashes a wolfish grin. “And there are not enough in the English language to describe how hot you are.” The cocky smirk grows. “Should I try the shit in Spanish for you?”
There’s no hesitation out of my best friend. “No.”
Hiding my own laughter is easily done due to Tate strolling towards his family to direct them elsewhere. “Come on, you three. Let me show around, so you can decide who is sleeping where with the exception of Laz who we all know will be sleeping on the couch.”
“Why me?!” He squawks at the same time he follows my boyfriend out of the room.
“Porque eres el chiquito,” Felipe and Matias retort in unison, the last word said in a baby voice I’m guessing to imply that he is one.
They’re exiting has me turn to face my best friend with a tickled expression. “It’s going to be a crazy day.”
She flashes me a playful cringe on an adjustment of her clutch. “Thank fuck for wine, am I right?”
Laughter leaves us both before I grab the essentials to get going.
One very loud and very lively SUV ride later, we meet the other guests – his parents, his old roommate, her girlfriend, and Geoffrey the man he may be going into business with – at Stomp It Like It’s Hot Winery. The private visit I arranged begins with a tour of the unique facility, a brief meeting of the owners, and a few fun wine facts that seems to impress both my best friend and my boyfriend’s parents. Tate keeps my hand in his or his arm around me the entire time almost as though terrified unattached I’ll wander off into the arms of someone else. It isn’t until I note that his father treats his mother the same way that I realize it’s a loving tactic.
Not an insecure one.
The stomping portion of our activities can’t come fast enough for his cousins, yet when the moment arrives, and the hosts announce it’ll be a competition, they seem unable to process the idea that they have to all work together when Nat volunteers to partner with Geoffrey.
Each of us are paired off to separate barrels where we’re supposed to stomp as many grapes as we possibly can in whatever amount of time they’ve allotted.
I missed that number because my boyfriend’s hand drifted down to my ass for a not so sneaky grab.
Our barrel is beside his parents and beside his old roommate, Gabby – whose girlfriend basically thanks me every time she sees me for moving Tate out so that she could move in. Nat’s on the other side of them with Geoffrey and his griping cousins are on the other side of Tate’s parents. Everyone seems excited to be doing the unusual activity, yet it’s the continual joy on my boyfriend’s face from being surrounded by family that makes me the happiest.
With our arms locked around each other – for stomping support – we mash the grapes under our feet with all the energy we can muster up. While this shit looked easy in the pictures, it’s far from it in real life.