Read Online Nowhere but Here by Renee Carlino - Free Book Online

pinched a chunk of his skin just above his hip and jabbed the needle into it. I caught a tiny wince flash across his face just as the needle hit the skin. He pushed the button on the bottom of the pen and then quickly pulled it out and replaced the cover using his mouth. He was still holding up his shirt.
    “Shit,” he mumbled.
    “What?”
    “I hit a blood vessel.”
    “Oh my god, what does that mean?” I said, suddenly frantic.
    He chuckled. “Nothing, sweet girl, it’s just a little blood.” He was looking around for something. I looked down and noticed he was bleeding from the injection site. It was thinly streaming toward the top of his jeans. Spotting our wet towels on the hood of the truck, I quickly grabbed one and bent to carefully wipe away the blood.
    “Whoa, what are you doing, Kate?” There was a touch of amusement in his voice.
    “Wiping the blood away.”
    “I could have done that.”
    “Oh,” I said. I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling mortified. I was trying to read his expression. “I’m sorry.”
    He smiled, but I think he was a little shocked, too.
    “No, what I meant was that I wouldn’t want to make anyone feel like they have to do something like that.”
    “I know. I told you, I’m not squeamish. I just wanted to help.”
    “Thank you.” He held the towel to his waist for a moment and then let his shirt fall. “I should get you up to your room. You must be exhausted.”
    “Yes. It’s been a long, strange day.”
    “Not all bad, I hope,” he said quietly as we shuffled up the stairs.
    “What?”
    “You said it’s been a long, strange day, but I hope it wasn’t all bad.”
    “Definitely not all bad.” When we got to my door, I turned around before unlocking it. “Actually, I should thank you. You turned a pretty awful day around for me, even after I hit you with my car.”
    He nodded. “Well thank you for sopping up my blood.”
    “No prob.”
    “My list is growing.”
    I crooked an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? What list is that?”
    “All of the reasons why this is gonna be so hard.” I tilted my head, encouraging him to elaborate. He smirked. “Now you’ve added compassionate and tender to the list.” He leaned in and pecked me on the cheek. “Night, Katy, see you in the morning.”
    Oh, that list.
    I was beginning to make a list of my own, and the promise of seeing him the next day made my heart bounce around inside my chest.
    Stephen who? I thought to myself with a smile.
    • • •
    In the morning, just as promised, an itinerary was shoved under my door. At the top, under the emboldened word WEDNESDAY, there was a list of breakfast items and the extension number to place my order. In the margin, someone had written, I recommend the eggs Comtesse or the eggs Blackstone (minus the bacon, of course).
    Wow, this is amazing, I thought. Personal recommendations— and they know I’m a vegetarian.
    Under the breakfast choices was a detailed schedule.
    10:00 a.m.: Private educational tour of winery with Guillermo. Meet in lobby.
    In small handwriting above “Guillermo,” there was a little carrot arrow and the words and Jamie written rather messily. Well, I knew who the annotating culprit was now, and I couldn’t stop smiling as I continued through the schedule.
    12:00 p.m.: Private wine and food pairing experience with Chef Mark . And again, a little handwritten note with the words and Jamie .
    2:00 p.m.: Facility tour with Susan. Instead of and Jamie , it said, I have work to do, young lady .
    There was a big space and then Jamie’s writing again.
    But, if you ’ re willing, the staff at R. J. Lawson would like to take you on a sunset sail in the San Francisco Bay. Meet in lobby at 4 p.m.
    Wow, really? They’re going all out . . . or maybe Jamie is going all out . . .
    After eating the best eggs Comtesse I’ve ever had, I searched my suitcase for something to wear. I had brought plenty of very reporter-looking clothes, not sure of what the weather