Read Online Once Upon a Wine by Beth Kendrick - Free Book Online

washed the berries and hulled them with a paring knife.
    By the time she’d finished with the berries, she had sweet pinkjuice on her fingers and total recall of the summer she’d been so determined to forget.
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    She’d just turned twenty-two and she had big dreams for the future. On her birthday, she’d legally gained access to the inheritance her mother had left, which her father had carefully invested for the previous ten years. The first thing she’d done was buy a car (used, but she’d splurged on the leather interior and sunroof; she figured her mother would approve). As she sped down the beach town’s back roads, cruising past a cornfield in her little red coupe, she turned the music up and rolled down the window. Finally, real life was about to begin. Nothing could stop her.
    The car slowed.
    Frowning, Cammie stepped on the gas. The car slowed down even more. She steered onto the gravel shoulder as the car rolled to a stop.
    She turned off the ignition, took her hands off the wheel, and started cursing. As she dug through the glove compartment for the user manual, she heard the crunch of gravel. A rusty blue pickup truck had pulled up in front of her.
    â€œI don’t need any help!” she yelled as she heard footsteps approaching.
    â€œFlat tire?” a male voice asked.
    Cammie glanced up to find a very cute, very tan guy standing by the driver’s-side window. “No, I think it’s engine trouble.”
    â€œYeah? What makes you think that?”
    She gave him a very quick, very insincere smile. “The fact that the engine stopped. One minute it was running; the next minute, nothing.”
    â€œDid you hear a banging noise? Rattling?” He leaned down, rested his forearms on the roof of the car, and positioned his facecloser to hers. He had dark, kind eyes and a dusty blue baseball cap covering his brown hair.
    She shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t hear anything because I had the music cranked up to eleven.”
    He nodded. “Can I take a look?”
    She shifted in her seat. “I don’t need some guy to bail me out. I can handle this.”
    â€œLet me help. I want you to owe me a favor.” He grinned, and she had to smile back. A real smile this time.
    â€œI bet you say that to every girl stranded by the side of the road.” But she handed over her keys.
    He opened her car door for her and offered his hand to help her out.
    She placed her hand in his, and as she stood up to look him in the eye, she was acutely aware of the cobalt sky above them, the gritty gravel on the ground beneath them, and the endless rows of green corn stalks all around them. Life came into focus, sharp and clear and almost painfully vivid.
    She pulled her hand away and let her hair fall over her face, trying to pretend that the moment hadn’t happened, that he hadn’t felt it, too.
    He slid into the driver’s seat of her car. After turning the key in the ignition, he immediately got out of the car. “I found the problem.”
    She took a deep breath, determined to steady herself. “That fast? Damn, you’re like the car whisperer.”
    â€œYou’re out of gas.”
    â€œWhat? No, I’m not.” She ducked down to peer at the dashboard.
    He pointed out a glowing yellow symbol. “The little gas tank light’s on.”
    She waved this away. “Yeah, but when it comes on, I still have thirty-three miles.”
    He looked at her. “How long has the light been on?”
    She mentally calculated the distance between her aunt’s cottage and the cornfield. “For about twenty miles? There’s a gas station five miles thataway. I have an eight-mile cushion!”
    He glanced at the dashboard vents. “Have you been running the A/C?”
    â€œUm . . .”
    â€œBecause that’s going to affect your mileage.” Before she could reply, he