6. CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

S he probably should have read up more on the island before venturing to some of the beaches. Particularly the secluded beach below Westhaven Winery, which turned out to be a nudist beach. Or rather a "clothing optional" beach. That was quite a shock.

Even though she was a doctor and had no issues with the human body no matter what size, shade, or shape, the shock of seeing a sea of naked old people spread out on the sand, basking in the afternoon sun wasn't something she was prepared for.

Needless to say, she didn't stay.

It was a beautiful beach, but the amount of naked flesh around her was distracting. She also didn't feel like she could bring out her phone to take pictures.

"You didn't stay down there very long," came a gentle female voice behind her as she climbed into her SUV, having hoofed it back up the steep cliff trail from the beach to the winery parking lot.

Spinning around, and making sure she didn't have an unwelcoming scowl on her face, Justine smiled, finding a pretty brunette with bright green eyes beaming at her.

"Uh, there is more flesh than I was prepared for," Justine said with a forced laugh. "Kind of detracted from the serenity of the view, if you know what I mean?"

The woman shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim overalls and laughed. "Oh jeez. Yeah …" She glanced toward the sun. "I guess it's warm enough now for the nudists to start tanning down there again, huh?"

"So that's a thing?"

"Yeah. We have a pretty big nudist colony, or group, here. Mostly older people who have lived on the island for decades and don't give a shit. It's not great for tourism, but the beach isn't our land, so we can't do too much about it. Kind of just … roll with it." She shrugged and extended her hand. "I'm Naomi. I run the winery with my cousins. You just visiting the island?"

Justine took her hand and nodded. "Yeah, staying at the cabins by San Camanez Brewery. Got in after a last-minute cancellation. I'm Justine, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Justine. Are you a wine drinker?"

Justine smiled, enjoying the woman's blunt but friendly personality. "I've been known to enjoy the odd glass in the evenings. They say grapes are good for the heart, so who am I to argue with they ?"

Naomi chuckled. "I definitely don't argue with they . You on your way out or do you want to come for a tasting? We're pretty quiet right now. So I'm happy to give you a private tour."

Justine's eyes widened, and her belly rumbled. "I was going to go grab something to eat, but I have a wine tour and tasting on my to-do list while I'm here. And big crowds aren't my thing. So a private and impromptu one sounds even better. Thank you."

"We have food, so I've got you fully covered. No crowds, great wine, and the perfect food to pair it with. Follow me." Shoving her hands into the pockets of her cute overalls that cut her mid-calf, Naomi headed toward a big, barn-style building with cedar shake siding and an elaborately carved sign over the double doors that said, "Westhaven Winery." "So, where are you visiting from?" Naomi asked, holding the smaller side door open for Justine so she could walk into the pleasantly lit tasting room. The bar and counters were all reclaimed wood and wrought iron. It was tasteful, rustic, but also chic.

"I live in Seattle, but I've taken a leave of absence from work. I needed a break, so I'm here for the summer."

"What do you do for work?" Naomi asked.

"I was a doctor."

Naomi's dark brows hiked up. "Oh, cool. That must be really nice to take a break. I'm sure COVID caused a lot of burnout." She ducked behind the bar and began pulling out various containers of diced up fruit, cheeses, crackers, meats, and breads. Before Justine knew it, a small charcuterie board had been put together in front of her very eyes, and apparently it was just for her. "Have you seen much of the island so far?" Naomi asked, setting up a foot-long wooden board with four circular cut-outs that didn't go all the way through the wood. She placed four small stemless wine glasses in the cutouts, then proceeded to pour a half ounce of different wines into each.

"I've gone for a few runs, which have taken me a few places. Then I went for a hike the other day, and to Heaven's Leap yesterday. The grocery store, of course, and Barrington's Bees for honey. I'm taking it slow. I want to savor my time here and not do it all too quickly. I've never had nothing to do before. So it's both weird and wonderful. If I wasn't so conditioned to getting up at five to go for a run, I'd consider sleeping in."

Naomi laughed. "I'm a creature of habit too. Even when I want to, or try to, sleep in, my body is like, ‘Nah, bitch. Get up. There's shit to do.' Or it's my kids jumping on me and basically saying the same thing."

Justine grabbed a green grape from the plate and popped it in her mouth, crushing the sweet fruit between her molars, and enjoying the juice that burst across her tongue.

"Okay, let's start with this one," Naomi said, pointing to the bubbly white wine on the left. "This is a prosecco that we make here from our own grapes. It goes best with something salty as all sparkling wines and champagnes do. So I suggest you either put a bit of caviar on a cracker or take a salty potato chip here. Whatever preference. I'm not a caviar person myself, which is why I also put out the chips."

"I'm not a caviar person either," Justine said, grabbing a kettle cooked chip from the small stack. She took a bite, then a sip of the prosecco.

It was like a party of flavors and sensations in her mouth. A party she never wanted to leave.

The way the fruity wine complimented the salty chip and vice versa, not to mention the effervescence across her tongue … she knew she needed to pace herself, but she was in too much bliss to not do it again. She grabbed another chip and took another sip, moaning as the same sensations eclipsed her. Her eyes closed and she smiled as she chewed.

When she finally swallowed and opened her eyes, Naomi was grinning at her.

Heat flooded Justine's face. "Sorry. That was just really good."

"Don't apologize. I take your response as a compliment. And it was quite subdued compared to some people. I get a glimpse into a lot of people's "O" faces here."

Snickering, Justine took another sip of the prosecco before placing the glass back on the flight board next to the rest. Her phone lit up where it rested on the counter indicating her mother was trying to call. Justine canceled the call, then turned off her phone.

The weight practically melted off her shoulders at how good it felt to actually make herself completely unavailable and just live in the moment.

"I spied the word Mom, " Naomi said with a half-smile. "Because I'm a nosy bitch. Trust me, girl, you're not the first person to duck their mother."

Justine's face heated up a little. "I've told them I'm on vacation and they just don't seem to get the clue that I want some space."

"Overbearing?"

"I suppose that's one way to word it. Just … controlling. Judgmental—at least my mom. And I've made some pretty big changes in my life in the last little while that I'm just not ready to share with them yet."

"For fear of the wrath?"

Justine exhaled. "Yep."

With a face of total understanding, Naomi reached across the bar and squeezed Justine's hand. "My advice? Drink wine."

Justine chuckled. "It's good advice."

Grinning, Naomi picked up another bottle. "Next one is a sparkling moscato. You'll want to try it with a piece of sweet fruit. I recommend a strawberry, piece of pineapple, or grapes. The wine does well emphasizing the flavor of the fruit, not the sugar. Although it can be on the sweeter side, I don't find it overpowering. It strikes a beautiful balance. I like drinking this one on the deck in the evening just as the sun is setting, while diving into a bowl of mango sorbet or something cool and equally refreshing."

"You definitely know how to sell your wares," Justine said, picking up the second glass and grabbing a rich-red strawberry from the plate. She took a bite, then a sip, humming in delight at the kaleidoscope of sweet notes and the way the wine made the strawberry taste even juicier. It was like the first day of summer in her mouth.

"What'd I tell you?" Naomi said with a grin. "Refreshing, right?"

"Very." Justine finished the moscato. She probably shouldn't have, but it was just so delicious. She popped another strawberry, then a piece of pineapple, in her mouth. Both fruits went exceptionally well with the wine.

"Moving on. Next, we have a beautiful dry rosé."

"Mmm."

"Now, some cheeses go better with white wine, and others pair perfectly with a tasty red, but in my opinion—and my opinion usually matches the opinion of the masses—"

Justine snorted a laugh. Naomi was already grinning.

"Rosé goes well with almost all cheese. It has the acidity of a white wine and the fruit character and depth of a red. It's perfect for any time of year and can go with nearly any meal—if you're not into deep, dry reds with your steaks." Her smile turned sassy.

"Not a big red meat eater, so it's all good."

"Rosé also goes well with grilled fish, fresh salad, and—" she pointed at the board of snacks, "a plate of charcuterie. I recommend a piece of prosciutto, a slice of melba toast, and a piece of aged parmesan or provolone. Add a fresh fig or a slice of cantaloupe and—" She did a chef's kiss with her fingers. "An orgasm in your mouth."

Salivating just from the poetic description, Justine grabbed a slice of melba toast, a small piece of prosciutto, and the provolone Naomi pointed out. Then she placed a small slice of melon with it all and took a bite. Alone, it was delicious, but when she sipped the rosé, it really was a mini orgasm in her mouth.

"Told you," Naomi said with an unveiled arrogance that had Justine chuckling around a full mouth. "Who needs sex when you have this kind of wine and food pairing?"

Justine opened her eyes, pinning them on Naomi.

Naomi chuckled and shrugged. "Maybe I'm just projecting. It's been a while. I eat a lot of wine and cheese these days."

Justine chewed and swallowed, taking another sip of the rosé to wash it all down. "That was incredible. And definitely better than some of the sex I've had in my life. Though, I'm also in a bit of a dry spell."

"Well, let's fix that dry spell with a dry red," Naomi said, then she paused. "That doesn't really make sense, does it?"

Justine giggled. "No, but I get, and appreciate, the attempt."

"Here we have a wonderful merlot. Now, because of where we're located, here on the cliff, we are limited to the types of red grapes we can successfully grow. Your deep syrahs and cabs like it hot. Here, we get cooler temperatures, which bodes well for sweeter and lighter wine grapes, like white. But merlot grapes are rather happy here too. They don't seem to mind the cool, salty air off the water."

"I didn't know that about grapes. Interesting."

Naomi simply nodded, jostling her thick, voluminous waves. "Merlot is considered a dry wine due to the tannin levels, but the flavor profile tends to lean toward fruits and berries. You'll probably note the subtle, earthier overtones like vanilla, clove, and mocha too. I definitely taste clove with this latest batch. Clove and blackberry actually, which I love."

Justine picked up the final glass but paused, waiting for the food pairing suggestion.

"I like my merlot with a sharp cheddar cheese. However, I also like to suggest people finish off their tasting with the merlot and a piece of bittersweet chocolate." She pointed out the cheddar and the chocolate on the plate.

"Do I need to choose one or the other?"

"Of course not," she said with a laugh. "And you don't have to stick to my suggestions either. Try the moscato with the cheddar and see what happens. You never know, you might have found a new match made in heaven."

"I think I'll listen to the pro." She grabbed a piece of sharp, aged white cheddar and popped it into her mouth. The calcium crystals in the cheese crunched against her molars as the salty tang brought forth a fresh flood of saliva. She took a sip of the wine and closed her eyes, humming again in delight. But she wasn't about to ignore the suggestion of chocolate. Once that mini climax waned, she picked up the chunk of bittersweet chocolate, took a sip of wine, and bit into the chocolate. It was an entirely different, but wonderful, sensation. Less salty and more sweet with bitter notes, and the way the creaminess of the chocolate danced with the mocha overtones of the wine was captivating.

She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes until Naomi laughed and Justine blinked her eyes open.

"I love to end the tasting with the merlot and chocolate. It's so satisfying, isn't it?"

Justine couldn't remember the last time she'd ever been this happy, or tasted anything so wonderful. But as soon as she acknowledged that joy, on came the guilt.

She stood up abruptly from her seat. "I, uh … I have to go. Umm, thank you. What do I … what do I owe you?"

Naomi appeared shattered and confused. That just compounded Justine's guilt.

She needed to get out of there.

"It's on the house. I … have I done something wrong? I'm sorry if I've upset you."

"No … you've done nothing wrong. I …" She hooked her purse over her shoulder. "I just … it's the guilt. I can't."

"The guilt? Guilt about what?"

"I'm sorry." She reached into her wallet and pulled out two fifty-dollar bills, placing them abruptly on the counter. "It can't be on the house. You're running a business here. I get that. I'm sorry. Thank you. Thank you." Then she ran out of the building, cringing at how hard the door slammed behind her.

Gravel flew out from beneath her tires as she hastily backed out of her parking stall and onto the dusty laneway that would take her back to the main road. Rows and rows of grapes flanked her, but she could barely see them through the fat blobs of tears that blurred her vision and tumbled down her cheeks.

She didn't even remember the drive back to her cabin, but before she knew it, she was there, pulling into the small parking space in front of cabin number five.

The tears had stopped falling in such rapid succession, but her face remained damp and her heart heavy.

She probably shouldn't have driven, given that she'd just had wine, but she didn't feel drunk, and she never finished any of the glasses—besides the moscato.

With stuttering breaths, she climbed out of her SUV, hooking her purse and beach bag over her shoulder.

The property was rather quiet, save for the chirp of birds and the reassuring sound of the surf not too far away. But the closer she got to her cabin door, the louder a strange whooshing sound grew.

Pausing, with her key in the lock, she looked around. Where was that noise coming from?

With her chest still recovering from crying, she pulled in a shallow breath that snagged in her throat, closed her eyes and turned the key.

The rushing sound of water was right there now and when she stepped into the living room, her shoes squelched on the welcome mat.

The floor was soaked and water flowed out from the hallway.

She raced into the cabin and the bathroom, where more water gushed from the wall, but she couldn't see exactly where from. Everything was soaked.

The floor, the baseboards. And it flowed out of the open bathroom door into the hallway, the bedroom, the living room and kitchen. Anything of hers that was on the floor was drenched. Luckily, she was the kind of person to put her clothes into dressers when she stayed anywhere for a considerable amount of time. But a few things were on the ground—and they were ruined.

The water pressure was stronger than she anticipated and she was sopping wet in seconds. But she couldn't reach the shut off.

Not knowing what else to do, she ran out of the cabin, leaving the door open and water pouring out onto the porch, and headed for Bennett's office.

She didn't even bother to knock and just shoved the door open.

He was at his desk, hunched over a bunch of spreadsheets with the bartender from her first night there. Dom was his name, if she remembered correctly.

Both men looked up at her in surprise. Bennett surged to his feet, panic in his blue eyes. "What's wrong?"

"My cabin has flooded. A water main, I think."

Dom was on his feet too, and both men raced after her, then passed her as they jogged to her cabin. Bennett entered the place first, cursing under his breath over and over again. He made it to the bathroom and was soaked just as quickly as she'd been. Only, he didn't let the water pressure stop him and he grunted as he reached behind the toilet to the shut-off handle.

And then it stopped.

The water stopped gushing, and only the sound of their heavy breathing and the random drips all around the house filled the air.

Devastation was painted all across his handsome face as he stood up to his full height, but he looked past her to Dom, who stood behind her.

Dom was stricken, but not nearly as much as Bennett. The man looked like he could either cry, vomit, or strangle someone.

All she wanted to do was hug him. Take away his pain.

Then it hit her.

This was her cabin, and it was unlivable. Now what?

She wasn't ready to go. She hadn't done what she came here to do, which was figure out the next step in her life. Figure out how to move past the crippling guilt.

She didn't want to leave the island.

She didn't want to leave Bennett.