Maybe I’m losing it.

And now there she is, across the room from me at the first vineyard tour of the day, sniffing a small glass of wine and smiling to the woman standing next to her. Her bright hair is twisted up into a style that would have been popular in the fifties. She’s wearing dramatic makeup, including red lipstick. Amazingly, it looks completely natural on her.

A fitted button-front dress, black with white skulls, and killer red heels show off her long legs. Legs that I wouldn’t mind having wrapped around my waist, as soon as possible.

No one but Kat could pull off that look. It’s sexy as fuck.

She raises her eyes and catches my gaze and a slow smile slides across those sexy red lips. Her brown eyes are full of laughter as she takes a sip of the red wine, then swirls her glass and returns her attention to the sommelier pouring the samples.

The sommelier with his eyes on Kat’s tits.

I narrow my eyes and walk over to stand next to her and smile at—I look at his name tag—Kyle. “I’d love a sip of that.”

“Of course,” he replies with a smile, and pours the red. “This is a Cabernet from two years ago. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“What do you think of it?” I ask Kat.

“It’s a little bitter at first, but the more it opens, the more full-bodied it becomes. It’s nice.”

I smell it, hold the glass to the light so I can see through it, then sip it. She’s right. It’s bitter.

So I swirl my glass and step in front of her, cutting Kyle off.

“How did you sleep?” I ask.

“Like the dead,” she replies with a smile, and just like that, I’m knocked off my axis again. The chemistry between us is off the damn charts.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“And you?”

“Shitty,” I reply calmly, and take another sip of my wine. “Seems I couldn’t stop thinking about a certain woman who has a fear of flying.”

“Yes, I’m sure her cutting the circulation off in your hand was super sexy.”

“Everything about her is sexy,” I reply, and hold her gaze as I finish my wine and set the glass aside. “Do you spit?” I ask, and laugh when her eyes go wide.

“You might have found out last night,” she replies, not at all embarrassed, and my respect for her just went up about a thousand points.

“I was talking about the wine,” I reply. Many people spit the samples out so they don’t get drunk.

“Sometimes I will,” she says with a shrug, and wanders out the front door to the porch. We both lean on the railing and cross our arms. “But there’s usually something to nibble on during most tours, and as long as I have a little something in my stomach, I’m okay. Plus, we’re not driving.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “So if we get drunk, it’s no big deal.”

“You have a point,” I reply, and have to resist the urge to wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her in for a hug.

What in the hell is happening? I’ve been attracted to more than my share of women, and enjoyed many of them, but I’ve never had this undeniable urge to simply touch a woman. I’m not a touchy-feely kind of guy.

Before I can give in to the urge, Kat takes my hand in hers and kisses my knuckles, and I swear to God, just from that alone, my cock is on alert.

“What was that for?” I ask.

“I almost broke it yesterday,” she replies, and laces our fingers together. “Thanks for that, by the way. I ran off as soon as the door opened, and I felt bad for not thanking you.”

“My guess is you were about to be sick.”

Her cheeks flush and she looks down. “You’re a good guesser.”

“I was happy to help,” I reply, and kiss her hand, then pull away before I do something stupid like bend her over this railing, which is exactly what I want to do.

“Looks like we’re moving on to the next vineyard,” Kat says as the others in our group come outside and wander toward the bus. We follow them, sitting together. It feels natural, comfortable, to be with her, and to my delight, we end up spending most of the day together, sampling wines, wandering through vineyards.

Getting a little drunk.

“I’ve never seen one this big!” Kat exclaims as she holds a wineglass up to show me.

“That’s what she said,” I reply, deadpanned. She snorts, and takes a sip of wine.

“This one’s good.”

“They’re all good.”

“No. That one at the last place was not good.”

She wrinkles her nose, and I lean in to kiss it.

“You kissed my nose.”

“Yes.”

“If you’re very lucky”—she leans in and buries her finger in my chest—“I’ll let you kiss me in other places later.”

“I’m good with the nose,” I reply.

“Liar.”

I grin. “Totally lying.”

She giggles as we follow the group out to wander through the grapes. It’s a beautiful day, not too hot, although with all the alcohol running through our veins, we’re all flushed. Kat wanders ahead, softly touching leaves and grapes. She’s graceful in the way she moves. I wonder if she’s that graceful when she’s having sex.

She turns back to me. “Are you coming?”

“No,” I reply, and join her. “I’m just breathing hard.”