The Case of the Voracious Vintner

What People Are Saying About The Case of the Voracious Vintner

Other Middlemark Mysteries

Excerpt

“Where’s your family? Clearly they didn’t follow you to California as mine did.”

“Uh, no. I don’t have any relatives to speak of.” That was the truth. He wouldn’t speak of them.

“Land of mercy, I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”

Jeremy snorted. “Sounds like you have enough relatives for both of us.”

“And the rest of central California as well.”

“A Southern thing, I bet.”

“Oh yes. In Georgia people don’t just want to know your name, they want to know who your grandparents were. Then they figure out how you’re related.” He turned those perfect lips into a half smile. “You’re always related somehow. Where are you from?”

Jeremy worked hard to keep his eyes level and not look away. “New York mostly.”

“Whatever possessed you to move all the way to the central coast of California? They make good wine in New York.”

“I was ready for a change and nothing to keep me there.” They tried to keep him there, but he got away.

“Would you like dessert?” Bo’s lips curled around that word so deliciously, Jeremy could think of a lot of sweets he’d like in his mouth. He shifted on his seat.

“Uh, no, thanks. I’m good.”

“Yes.” They did that eye thing again, and the impact of those crystal green eyes built up in Jeremy to the point that the possibility of coming in his pants was a real threat.

Jeremy cleared his throat. “Let me get the check, okay? You’ve done all the serious thinking.” He grinned.

For a second Bo looked as if he might demur, but finally he nodded. “Thank you most kindly. I’ll get it next time.”

Jeremy did like that there would be a next time. He motioned to the waitress for the bill.

Bo said, “Did you always want to make wine?”

Amid all the shit he couldn’t tell the truth about, that was an easy question. “Yes. When I was a little kid and other rug rats were downing Cokes and cheeseburgers, I was reading the labels on wine bottles and scanning my mother’s cookbooks for exotic recipes. I didn’t know I was gay until I was about twelve, but I knew I was different really young.”

Bo got a funny expression on his face. Kind of sad.

Jeremy gave him a smile. “No need to feel bad for me. I’ve always loved being weird.” That was pretty much the truth.

Bo smiled. “I understand. I’m quite the black sheep of my clan as well.”

Jeremy held up his glass with a last splash of wine in it. “Hard to imagine for such a pillar of the community, but here’s to all us freaks.”

Bo laughed—a deep musical sound—and extended his almost empty glass. “And all our freaky works.”

They clinked and downed the last of their wine.