I stuck my hand up and waved, getting his attention. In that moment another worker handed him something so his hands were full, but he tilted his head back and kissed the air in my direction. I smiled giddily and then looked over to find Guillermo grinning.

“Focus, mija.”

I played it down by shrugging, like I had no idea what he was referring to.

“Is it okay for Jamie to work like that with his diabetes?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Exercise is good. It helps to naturally lower his blood sugar. That’s why Jamie is so fit.”

“Yeah. Jamie is fit . . .”

Guillermo raised one eyebrow. “I bet you want to see the grape crusher?”

I laughed. “You’re damn right I do.”

We walked into the quiet warehouse through a large, rolled-up metal door. Apparently the grapes that had been picked that day had not made it to the crusher yet because the warehouse was eerily quiet. Guillermo pointed to a stainless-steel square funnel with a large black machine attached to the bottom of it.

“That’s it. One of the best. It’s the most gentle of all large-scale grape crushers. We tested out a few others but weren’t happy until we found this one.”

Studying it, I walked around and took some mental notes, and then I thought about that episode of I Love Lucy when Lucy and the Italian woman stomp around the huge barrel, crushing the grapes with their bare feet.

“I was really hoping to have a Lucille Ball moment while I was here.” I was half-joking, but I smiled to myself at the idea.

A voice coming from behind startled me. “I think we can arrange that.” I turned to see Jamie, sweaty and gorgeous, leaning against the large doorway. Chelsea was sitting right at his heel, staring me down. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair and then replaced his hat again. As I watched him move, it was like time stood still. His motions slowed down, as if someone had turned a dial or pressed a button on the remote.

“What do you mean, you can arrange that?”

“Give me ten minutes.” And then he was gone. Guillermo looked down, shaking his head, trying to contain his laughter.

“I think that’s it for me, mija. I have to get back to work. Do you have any questions?”

“Yes, I have a million questions,” I said quickly.

“I think Jamie can help answer most of them, he really knows his way around here.”

I nodded. “Okay, it was so nice to meet you. Thank you.” I reached my hand out, and he shook it. “You’re welcome, mija.” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek in a familial way that made my heart warm.

Jamie came in, rolling a barrel on its side. As he passed Guillermo, they nodded at each other. Chelsea plopped down in the corner on the cold concrete.

“Katy, are you ready for this? He turned the barrel upright and removed the lid. I leaned over and inhaled a mixture of aromas. It was sweet and sour, earthy and oaky—a pungent but natural smell. I could see the glimmer of grapes at the bottom as the light hit them.

He was watching me. “Well, shoes off.” He grinned, grabbed a bucket, and turned it upside down so I could sit.

I removed my shoes and socks a bit reluctantly. “Am I going to ruin these grapes?”

He knelt in front of me and began rolling up my jeans from the bottom. Then he held one foot out and examined it. I was terribly self-conscious in that moment. Jesus lord, is he checking for fungus?

“I will personally drink every drop of wine made from these cute little feet.” He wiped my feet off with a damp rag and then spread it on the floor for me to stand on. “You might want to take off your sweatshirt. You’re probably going to get hot—it’s hard work, grape-stomping.”

Remembering that I was only wearing the camisole underneath, sans bra, I panicked. “Um . . .”

He flashed me the most self-satisfied smirk. “I’ve seen you in your underwear already.”

“I have a tank top on,” I huffed, and then removed my sweatshirt. The camisole fell an inch above the top of my jeans, exposing my midriff. It was fucking silk and I was braless. Can you say zero class?

Still grinning, he squinted his eyes as he scanned my attire. “I don’t know if I would call that a tank top, Katy, but I like it. Let’s get you into this barrel. Okay, put your hands on the top. On the count of three, you’re gonna jump and I’ll lift you in.” He stood behind me, very closely, and put his hands on my hips. “One,” he said in his normal voice. He smelled of cardamom and musk from working but his breath smelled fruity. “Two.” He tightened his grip. This was taking way too long. My spine was tingling and my legs were losing all feeling. He leaned in, pressing himself against me. Oh my. His mouth hovered right over my ear. “Three.” Chills shot through my entire body, my knees buckled, and I started to collapse. Holding me up, he chuckled. “You’re supposed to jump, silly.”

Fighting a smile, I turned around and faced him in mock anger. “Well, stop whispering in my ear like that.”

“You liked it.”

“You’re making me shy, and I am not a shy person.” I took a deep breath through my nose to steady myself.

“I promise, my goal is not to make you shy.”

Turning back around, I jutted my ass out, forcing him back a few inches. He stepped back but still held a firm grip on my hips. “I will count,” I said firmly.

“Okay, baby.”

Goose bumps. Again. Just from the word “baby.”

“One-two-three,” I yelled in fast succession and then jumped. It was like floating; there was suddenly no gravity, and time slowed again. I closed my eyes and thought I would open them to find myself free-falling through a wild galaxy full of marshmallows and Sweet Tarts and chubby little cherubs playing tiny, heart-shaped lutes.

Back to reality, I bent my knees to clear the top of the barrel. Jamie lifted me effortlessly, as if I were a child. I stretched my legs, my feet touching the grapes. I squished my toes into them and giggled for at least twenty seconds while he watched me.

“Start crushing, lady.” Jamie held the barrel steady while I stomped around, laughing. The grapes were tougher than I thought they would be, but still squishy enough that they tickled me a bit. I paused, took a deep breath, and wiped a bead of sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.

“Why are you so happy?” I said to a smiling Jamie.

“You really seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am.” I stomped around a bit more and then paused again. “You’re right, this is a workout.” I glanced down and noticed my silk camisole sticking to my body. Jamie followed my gaze and then looked back up at my eyes. I saw the movement in his neck from swallowing and then I watched his chest rise and fall on a deep breath. I felt my nipples harden against the material.

“Can you help me get out?”

“Sure.” He stood behind me again. “Jump and pull up your knees to your chest.”

When I jumped he grabbed my hips, lifting me high above the barrel, then set me down on the towel. He put the bucket behind me and I sat down.

Kneeling in front of me, he carefully cleaned every bit of grape from the bottoms and tops of my feet and between my toes. When he hit a ticklish spot, I jerked. “Ah, Kate Corbin, the always serious investigative reporter, first on all the breaking news, is ticklish!” He grinned impishly.

“No, no, no!” I shouted as he began a brutal assault on my feet, pulling me toward him off the bucket. I fell to the floor and began rolling around, tossing and turning like a freakin’ animal. “Stop, please!” I began mock-crying. At this point I was lying on the concrete warehouse floor, flat on my back. He stopped immediately and leaned over me, a knee on either side of my hips, his hands planted on each side of my head. He was on top of me, essentially, and he was searching my eyes. There were tears in my eyes, but not sad tears.