CHAPTER 7

Bright and early the next morning, Seth had rushed home from work so he could get ready for his next adventure with the girl who held his heart. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t just say date and had to make it about Evelyn Shirley, but he did. He was just happy he got to spend time with Molly. That would have to be good enough…for now.

Seth had never been much of a ladies’ man. That’s not to say he didn’t know what to do with one, he just never had flocks of women waiting by the phone. Seth had been through just enough rejection over the years to lack confidence when it came to the one who consumed his every thought day and night. Molly wasn’t one of those girls you invite to a movie or to grab a movie — she was the girl you bought out a restaurant for or whisked away on a romantic weekend every chance you go. He’d have no problem doing either of those things for her — he was afraid of hearing those four dreaded words, we’re better off friends.

Special, genuine, and sincere defined Molly. He loved her passion and enthusiasm when something interesting caught her attention. Pure joy rolled off her, and she was as contagious as she was addictive.

He craved her presence and couldn’t wait to be with her today. If he were being honest, as much as he would like to get to the bottom of the Evelyn Shirley business for Molly, he hoped she proved hard to find today, granting the extra time with just Molly. He shook his head at that thought in sheer disappointment. At some point in his life, he’d become a total pussy. It was time to man up, grow a set, and ask her out on a real date. Maybe.

His thoughts drifted back to their night together in the car. Molly was beautiful and the sound of his name falling breathlessly from her lips was heaven. As thrilling as it was in the SUV that night, he wanted to give her more. Wanted to pleasure her over and over, hear his name as he brought her to ecstasy time and time again. He wanted to learn every inch of her body, find all her dirty weaknesses, and play them all on repeat until she knew exactly what she was to him: his everything.

Butterflies. Molly had butterflies for the first time since she could remember. Something about this man gave her a sweet smile and made her giddy. Never one to fuss over her appearance much or worry about what others thought, Molly found herself on outfit number seven or eight, and finally satisfied with a casual, yet trendy ensemble.

It wasn’t that Seth brought out all her insecurities, quite the contrary. He brought out the best in her…made her want to be her best. Not just for him, but for her too. Special was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time, since before losing her father, in fact.

Seth made her feel special. Like everything she had to say was important and he couldn’t wait to hear the rest. Maybe that’s what made her head spin a little and her crazy show when he’d asked her out but said it wasn’t a date.

That was her insecurity showing, and it was becoming more and more clear where that was coming from. He treated her like she hung the moon and stars in one hand, but corrected himself when he said date. Molly wanted Seth to want all of her — she wanted more.

Nothing was required of Molly where Seth was concerned. He didn’t need her to take care of him like her mother or even her ex had. He just wanted her — or seemed to anyway. The whole date thing seemed to fluster him. Maybe he was uncomfortable with the term. She didn’t know. When they were with each other, however, it certainly felt like dating.

Molly knew Seth could be a bit shy at times — some may even say awkward in that area — but when they were together lately, he was anything but. He could make her feel cherished and adored without a word. It was starting to look like Molly owed Evelyn a thank you.

Drunk and Dirty Days was like nothing Molly had seen before — or in this case, it was the day of the crawl where attendee’s crawl from one booth to the next, like a multi-venue tasting. The event was made up of all local wineries from across the Willamette Valley, each competing for the highly sought after, highly prestigious, Cork King or Queen title. Oregon was already known for its wine, adding an award was gold. Not only did the event expose wine makers to a voting public and potential new wine drinking fans, but also wholesalers and collectors.

It was a big deal. According to Seth, this was the main event. The Crawl was the final event of harvest season, hosted by Drunk and Dirty Vineyards and Wines. Drunk and Dirty was a local favorite that quickly rose to fame in the wine industry when they were bought out and their award-winning wines got a makeover. There would always be a level of pomp and circumstance in the industry, but Drunk and Dirty showed there was an untapped market that wanted fun and flirty to downright sexy among the prestige. Molly understood the uniqueness of their branding when she saw a bottle of One Night Stand and a series of bottles from the Sexy O line. It got a little awkward when she saw a bottle titled Safe Word. She didn’t need to know what that one was about. It was creative and fun, though. She’d give them that.

“Wow, I knew we were in Oregon wine country, but I had no idea it was this…big!” Molly confessed, soaking in the contagious excitement around her.

“It’s like a sacred holiday here. Pine Valley celebrates wine and harvests like some celebrate Christmas,” Seth replied.

“I can see that! It’s fantastic! Do you smell the food? It’s like a classy carnival. Nothing is fried!” she observed, taking in the mouthwatering aromas around her.

“Well, I hope you’re hungry…and thirsty. We have some eating and tasting to do! What’s your preference?” he asked. “Red? White? Dry? Sweet? Sparkling?”

Eyes wide, she paused, not sure how to answer. “Uh, I don’t really know. I don’t know much about wine.”

“What? How do you live in wine country and not know wine? Weren’t you a bartender?” Seth replied with a shocked smile.

Molly blushed and admitted her little secret. “I know. I don’t really drink!”

“Well, that was obvious that night at Reading Grounds when you had a little too much doctored coffee.” He laughed at the memory.

A know-all smirk planked her face, and she gave Seth an exaggerated eyeroll. “Ha-ha, wise guy! I knew my liquor for mixed drinks, but the wine was kind of a ‘fake it ’til you make it’ situation.”

“Well, then you are with the right guy. I grew up with this stuff,” he admitted. “My family holds the title as one of the oldest and biggest distributors on the west coast.”

“Really?” Molly questioned. “Yet…you’re a firefighter?”

A subtle shrug rested on his shoulders while he thought about his answer. “What can I say? It wasn’t my thing. I grew up with it. Worked in the family biz every summer even. Fighting fires was my passion…my dream for as long as I can remember.”

“Wow. Very admirable. Leave the security of the family business to pursue your dream. An honorable one at that,” she added, fascinated by this man.

“I don’t know about admirable and honorable,” he chuckled, “I just couldn’t see myself doing something I didn’t love. Besides, it will always be there. When I’m too old and gray to fight fires, there’s wine.”

Just when she thought he couldn’t impress her more, he had. Seth gave up a certain future to take a risk and follow his heart. That took courage and commitment.

Now she understood why he struggled at the beginning of his career. Seth had told her about being the FNG — fucking new guy — and why it was harder than he thought it would be. Seth was completely out of his slightly pampered element, trying to be a roughneck fireman. Talk about overcoming adversity and kicking its ass. Wine guy turned firefighter was getting more interesting — and hotter — by the minute.

Startling her from her thoughts, Seth grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd alongside him. “Come on. You’re late for class!”

“Class?” Molly questioned with a giggle.

“Wine 101, and you’re late, darlin’.” Seth gave her a charming wink and a panty melting smile as he led her to tasting row.

Seth walked her from booth to booth, rarely letting go. Even when he did let go of Molly’s hand, it was to move his hand to the small of her back or lazily around her waist to rest on her hip. Seth’s public display of affection was unexpected, but quite welcome. She loved the feel of him close. Molly felt protected and wanted — both things she could get used to.

Seth may not call this a date, but he certainly made the efforts of a date. Perhaps this was just that, and it was only a matter of semantics at this point. Molly really didn’t care as long as she was with him.

“Tell me you have at least been to the vineyards since moving here,” Seth quizzed.

Taking a moment to think, she could only come up with, “Well, I did go to some sort of tasting room with some of the girls.”

“With some of the girls? So, you were at the O’Reilly’s? Or Brady O’Bannon’s place?”

“Oh, it was the O’Reillys. Brady had a fit about it, which I didn’t understand at the time,” Molly shared. “I didn’t know about the O’Reilly and O’Bannon family feud that went back generations. Talk about a grudge.”

“You tasted some of the best wine there is. The O’Reillys have won this event for decades. Brady finally won more recently and has held the title since,” he shared with her. “Their families had a rocky history until Brady O’Bannon and Connor O’Reilly got together. When it comes to wine, old habits die hard.”

“Makes sense…I think?” she laughed, trying to follow the sordid story. “It sounds a little bit like a Romeo and Juliet story…but with wine. Aren’t the O’Reillys known more for their distillery and brewery, though?”

“Yep. They have the best whiskey and brew around…and wine. They don’t know how to fail at anything, I guess.” Seth laughed. “C’mon, let’s do the tour. You have to experience this at least once in your life!”

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Seth helped Molly off the long bed trailer that brought them to one of the Drunk and Dirty vineyards by way of tractor.

“So, what are we doing here?” She scanned the sprawling rows of grapes and various buildings scattered around the property, completely puzzled.

“This is where the magic happens — grapes picked, crushed, fermented, clarified, aged,” Seth said matter-of-fact, pointing to each area as he called it out.

“Oh, wow! So…what do we do out here?” Molly questioned, still bemused.

Seth pulled her close, looked her in the eye, and gave her a sly smile before a quick kiss. “We make wine, sweetheart!”

Seth grabbed a large crate from a stack staged just off to the side of their tractor shuttle and grabbed her hand to bring her on this journey that had him ever so excited. Molly looked around at the rows of vines and noticed a sprinkling of people with crates in every row. In a row of their own, Seth set the crate down at their feet and handed Molly an odd hooked knife and pair of strange scissors.

“This is a grape-picking knife and a pair of bahco snips,” he explained.

“That doesn’t sound very technical,” she chuckled.

Seth proceeded to show her how to choose a vine and fruit, and how to use the tools he gave her to harvest it. He dropped the cut grapes in the crate at his feet and went on to do another. Molly watched him make a few cuts before trying it herself. Oddly, it was satisfying and mesmerizing. They were moving in unison, quickly knocking out a section at a time before Seth would slide the crate with his foot to the next area to work on.

Molly enjoyed this side of him. The wine business may not have been his calling, but it was certainly something he knew and enjoyed. Maybe even felt a little passionate about it, given the amount of pride.

They worked together, enjoying each other’s company, laughing along the way. Each maintained a slight buzz from the earlier wine tastings, her more than him, which may have contributed to the silliness. Once full, Seth lifted their heavy crate of grapes and briskly moved it to the end of their row where groups of people were gathered around.

Molly followed Seth and watched him dump their grapes in a large round wooden barrel of sorts. It appeared to be eight, maybe ten feet in diameter, and several feet high.

“Oh my gosh, what are you doing?” she asked, letting out a laugh. “We worked hard for those!”

“Oh, we aren’t done with them! Sit!” he said, pointing to a bench behind them.

“Okay?” Confused, Molly took a seat as asked. When Seth began to take off her boots and socks, tucking them under the bench and rolling the cuffs of her jeans, she laughed. “What are you doing?”

He smiled at her before taking a seat next to her and removing his shoes and socks as well.

“Let’s go!” he said, pulling her to her feet.

“Go where?” Befuddlement seemed to be Molly’s constant at the moment. Seth was all over the place, and she hadn’t a clue what their end game was.

“To wash our feet!” he retorted.

Another puzzled look was exchanged, but she followed just the same, tossing her head back in laughter. He bent down and grabbed a soft wood handled brush and bottle of soap, which he drizzled all over her feet. Molly giggled when Seth grabbed the nearby hose and went to work on her feet, cleaning them as thoroughly as the outdoor makeshift “foot cleaning station” would allow.

“So,” she whispered while Seth moved to scrubbing his own feet, “do we shower next?”

Seth stood, facing her with his darkening eyes fixed on hers, and gave her a low, deep, throaty response. “Do you want to?”

“Maybe.” Her breathing grew heavier with her reply.

He quickly lifted her from the ground, earning a squeal before standing her in the very barrel they just dumped their grapes in. Understanding washed over her while looking around to see others standing atop their grapes too. Seth held both of her hands for stability after jumping in after her and began to dance around.

Molly followed his lead, laughing herself silly along the way. Seth loved that sound — her laughter warmed his heart and touched his soul. It was as contagious as she was — her joy, her laughter, her smile. They danced and danced, squishing the grapes between their toes until they’d crushed every last one.

“So, what’s next?” Molly giggled as she sat on the bench once more and rinsed their sticky feet.

“Next, it ferments for a few hours. Then we’ll add a type of yeast and give it a few hours before bottling it. Normally it would go to barrels, but for this, they bottle it right away.”

Surprised by his answer, she questioned, “And then it’s done?”

“Technically, but it won’t taste like much more than grape juice. It needs to age,” Seth explained.

“How long before we can drink it?” Molly asked.

A smile grew large across his face as he thought about his answer. “Six months. A year would be better.”

“Ohhh….” She didn’t have a problem waiting six months to drink their wine with him. She could see waiting a year too.