Let It Breathe (27 page)

“This is what you’ve been doing?” Reese asked Axl. “When you said you were growing ’shrooms, I thought—”

“Magic mushrooms?” Axl grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got those, too.”

Tony frowned. “Right. As you may know, Oregon black truffles can sell for more than two hundred and fifty dollars a pound. Given the superior quality of truffles found on your property, I’d like to contract with you to be the exclusive truffle provider for my entire restaurant chain.”

“Fuck yeah,” Axl said.

June placed a hand on her father’s arm. “Tell her the other part, Dad.”

“Right. You know my old place, right?”

“Right,” Reese said, her head still spinning.

“We’re converting it into a joint joint.”

“A what?”

Reese’s dad cleared his throat. “I believe the correct term is ‘bud and breakfast.’ With Oregon legalizing marijuana last year, pot tourism is becoming a big draw for this whole region.”

“Wait, you mean all those permits were legit?” Reese blinked. “Axl was doing everything legally?”

“Maybe not everything—” he began.

“But the things that matter—the paperwork,” June said. “That’s all legal.”

“Believe me,” Jed said. “No one’s more surprised than we are.”

Larissa bounced cheerfully beside her on the sofa. “So we’re saving the vineyard with weed and magic mushrooms. Isn’t it great?”

Jed and June clasped hands and beamed. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice,” June said, “but it does seem like a workable plan.”

“So whaddya say?” Axl said, nudging Reese’s knee. “I believe we have a proposal on the table.”

“A very good one,” Tony added. “I can show you the figures if you’d like. All the paperwork is back in the office, if you’d like to review it, but I can assure you it’s an excellent proposal.”

“What do you say, Peanut Butter Cup?”

But Reese wasn’t looking at her grandfather or her parents or her cousin or Tony anymore. She was looking at Clay, who was smiling down at her like they were the only two people in the room.

“Yes,” Reese said. “I say
yes
.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Growing up in Oregon’s Willamette Valley made me intimately familiar with the geographic setting of this story, and I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the amazing individuals in the wine industry who spent countless months familiarizing me with the nitty-gritty of vineyard operations and winemaking. I’ve taken some creative liberties with the details, and any errors are mine alone.

Spending time at more than fifty Oregon vineyards while researching this story was certainly no hardship, but a handful of people went above and beyond to make the experience even more incredible. Special thanks to the Ford family at Illahe Vineyards and to Leanna Garrison for helping set up my fabulous time there. Thank you to Michael Lundeen, Forrest Schaad, Michael Caputo, and Peter Rosback for opening your cellar doors and opening my eyes to the incredible passion that drives this industry. You inspired facets of the story and characters that might not have existed if I hadn’t met you.

I’m grateful to Alex Sokol Blosser at Sokol Blosser Vineyards and to the fine crew at Stoller Vineyards for giving me insight into the challenges of LEED-certified building at Oregon wineries. And thank you to Rebecca Sweet at Van Duzer Vineyards for offering a glimpse into the life of a female vineyard manager.

Thank you to Angela Perry for the Catholic liturgy, to Larissa Hardesty for letting me steal your name, and to Dan Krokos for help developing Clay in the early stages. Thanks also to Adam Fenske, PsyD, (and awesome cousin to boot!) for your insights into addiction and recovery. I’m also grateful to my veterinarian, Dr. Holly O’Brien, for not batting an eyelash when I started asking questions about alpacas and pot.

I owe a million hugs and sloppy smooches to my amazing critique partners, Linda Brundage, Cynthia Reese, and Linda Grimes, as well as my terrific beta readers, Larie Borden, Bridget McGinn, and Minta Powelson. You all know the challenges I was facing in my life while writing this book, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for pulling me through both personally and professionally.

Thank you to the Bend Book Bitches for your unwavering friendship and love of good books. I’m eternally grateful to the readers of my blog, Don’t Pet Me, I’m Writing, for being the best cheering section a girl could ever ask for.

I owe so much to my amazing agent, Michelle Wolfson, for the extra hand-holding that went on behind the scenes during the creation of this book. Thank you for being my staunchest advocate and most enthusiastic cheerleader. I’m picturing you with a bullwhip and pom-poms.

Huge thanks to Irene Billings, Anh Schleup, Jennifer Blanksteen, Chris Werner, Michelle Hope Anderson, Nicole Pomeroy, Sharon Turner Mulvihill, and the rest of the fabulous team at Montlake Romance for shepherding this story from “that manuscript gathering dust under my bed” to the book I always knew it could be. I’m especially grateful to Krista Stroever for understanding so precisely where I wanted to go with this story and mapping out the perfect route to get us there. Your belief in this book and its characters reignited my passion for it after all this time.

Thank you to my parents, Dixie and David Fenske, for all the love, support, and humor over the years. None of this would be possible without you guys. I’m also grateful to my baby brother, Aaron “Russ” Fenske, and his lovely wife, Carlie, for buying so many copies of my books even though I would have given them to you for free.

Thank you to Cedar and Violet for being the world’s most kick-ass stepkids (a phrase I figure I’m okay using since you aren’t old enough to be permitted to read this book yet).

And thank you to Craig for the endless supply of love, laughter, strength, and joy. You are my daily reminder that
happily ever after
doesn’t always turn out the way you think it will. Sometimes, it’s better.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo © 2013 Craig Zagurski

Tawna Fenske is a fourth-generation Oregonian who wrote this book as an excuse to roam Oregon wine country sipping good Pinot Noir and rubbing shoulders with all the cool people in the wine industry.

Tawna writes humorous fiction, risqué romance, and heartwarming love stories with a quirky twist. Her offbeat brand of romance received a starred review from
Publishers Weekly
, noting, “There’s something wonderfully relaxing about being immersed in a story filled with over-the-top characters in undeniably relatable situations. Heartache and humor go hand in hand.”

Tawna lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband, stepkids, and a menagerie of ill-behaved pets. She can peel a banana with her toes, and she loses an average of twenty pairs of eyeglasses per year.

To learn more about all of Tawna’s books, visit
www.tawnafenske.com
.