Let It Breathe Read Online Free Page A

“I didn’t mean to imply your marriage was a terrible idea.”
    “It doesn’t matter; it was.” She swallowed, not sure why she felt so flustered. She’d never been heartbroken about the divorce, not even when the wounds were fresh and she and Eric were fighting all the time. Now it was more a dull emptiness. Mourning for what was supposed to be, instead of what was.
    She cleared her throat. “Eric and I were meant to be great friends, but nothing more. Didn’t take long to figure that out.”
    “Right,” Clay said, and Reese could see him regrouping. “My point is that even after you two split, I hung around for years and made life miserable for both of you. And then there was that business at Finnigan’s, the night you got hurt—”
    “You already apologized for that,” she said. “You called from rehab four years ago, remember?”
    “Right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about all of it, Reese.”
    She nodded. “Okay.”
    Clay shifted awkwardly, and Reese wondered what to do next. Hug him? Slug him in the shoulder like an old friend? She tried to imagine what his shoulder might feel like under her hand and then realized she knew exactly what it felt like. She remembered it well, hard and solid and bare beneath her clutching palm . . .
    “Let’s look at the construction site, shall we?” she blurted, her cheeks burning.
    Clay nodded and started to reply. He stopped, turning as a trio of middle-aged women came giggling up the walk behind him in a cloud of perfume so thick Reese could see it.
    “Is this where the wine tastings are?” called a heavyset blonde woman in a pink cashmere sweater and a diamond ring that could double as a paperweight.
    “Yes,” Reese said, moving to one side as Clay stepped to the other and held the door open for the women to pass. A second woman wore designer boots and clutched a dog-eared copy of Wine Trails of Oregon . The third woman toted a handbag Reese knew cost more than her car. All three were flushed with wine and the exertion of climbing up the walkway. Reese was glad the new tasting room would be on lower ground with a parking lot and a picnic area and—
    “Aren’t you a gentleman, holding the door for us?” giggled one of the women as she beamed up at Clay. “Very sweet.”
    “Ma’am,” Clay said, and pulled the door closed behind them.
    “Welcome to Sunridge Vineyards, ladies,” Reese said as she moved toward the wine bar. “Are you here to do some tasting?”
    “We are,” agreed Pink Cashmere. “The guy in the tasting room at Larchwood Vineyards said you weren’t open, but I knew you would be.”
    Reese gritted her teeth, silently cursing the neighboring vineyard owner. “He does that sometimes, but I can assure you, we’re open. Seven days a week, eleven to six. Will you pardon me for just a moment?”
    She scrambled into her office and tucked the baby opossum into a small pouch she’d placed on a heat pad in the cage. Latching the cage door, she turned to scrub her hands at the sink before hustling back to the tasting area. Clay was standing at one end of the bar smiling his old familiar smile at the customers, and Reese felt her heart twist.
    “So were you ladies hoping to do our full tasting menu, or just some select wines?” she called.
    “The full thing,” piped the woman toting the wine book. “We hear your Pinot Blanc is just to die for.”
    “It hasn’t killed anyone yet, but the day is still early,” Reese said with deliberate cheer.
    She reached up and grabbed three wineglasses from the overhead rack, tugging the hem of her shirt as it rode up. She glanced at Clay, wondering whether he’d stick around or wait outside.
    He was watching her with an expression that gave Reese the peculiar sense he could see right through her clothes. She ordered herself not to think too much about it as the women sidled up to the bar. It wasn’t really a bar so much as a large piece of plywood over two retired wine barrels. The linen cloth Reese