“Do I go over and talk to them?”

“Nope. Let them sweat it out,” Jonah said, coming up from behind. Even though he was dressed in jeans and a Red Steel Cellars t-shirt, his department-issued authority was still locked and loaded. “Most of those people are mid-level buyers. They don’t have the money to compete at the level you’re about reach.”

“Which is why I told her not to accept any offers,” Abby said with a smile. “And she’s had plenty.”

“Smart thinking.” He tugged Frankie’s hair. “After you win, those offers will be tripled. And I bet if you don’t sell out tomorrow, whatever is left over will go straight to Chicago where it will fetch even more at auction.”

Frankie rolled her eyes. “We don’t even know if I made the cork court.”

She’d had an amazing day, no question, but she didn’t want to be talked into making a clean sweep only to be disappointed with a consolation prize.

“Just because I didn’t follow in dad’s footsteps doesn’t mean I didn’t follow him around for the first twenty years of my life.” He leaned down and gave her a hug and Frankie clung tightly to his shoulders. A response that surprised them both. “He would have been proud of you today, Frankie. I know I am.”

“He’s right,” someone said from behind. An extremely sexy someone, whose voice alone had the power to send a warm sensation sliding through her body. “You won.”

She turned and her breath seemed to stick in her throat. Nate stood in his trademark uniform of khaki slacks and a DeLuca polo and took her in with those warm, brown eyes of his that made her feel like giggling. Then she looked down and did. His feet, minus one set off stuffy loafers, were sporting a pair of muddy, rugged ball-buster boots, which Frankie had come to associate with the down-and-dirty grape grower. Which meant that along with the giggling came some squirming on her part because of the intense heat that pulsed below her belly button.

“We don’t know that.” But in her heart she hoped it was the truth.

“Oh, you won, sweet cheeks,” he said. “No matter what Mrs. Rose has written on her tally, there was no other wine as talked about this year as Red Steel. I even had buyers asking me if I had tried it.”

“What did you tell them?” she asked, feeling very girlie and not really caring.

“That it was a shoe-in for the win.”

“I’ll bet,” Jonah said, eyeing Nate with suspicion.

Frankie hadn’t told anyone about Nate being her boyfriend—even thinking the word made her chest go shifty. But it was pretty obvious by how they were all but mentally stripping each other that there was more than just a roomie situation at Sorrento Ranch.

Movement at the front of the stage caught Frankie’s eye, as Mrs. Rose and the mayor took their place. Behind them, elbowing each other for the front spot, like a group of grannies at a high-stakes coupon bingo game, stood ChiChi, Luce, and Pricilla, each reaching for a tray with an award. ChiChi grabbed the King’s crown and Luca ended up with the Queen’s crown.

Frankie tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter which lady carried what award, that she’d held her own with the big boys and she should be proud. But she didn’t want to merely hold her own, she wanted to kick some ass. And that meant winning.

“Can I have some money?” Ava asked as she walked over. Today her hair was streaked teal, matching her bellybutton ring, and she wore a halter top and a strip of white denim on bottom.

Abby blinked. Twice. Then leaned in and whispered, “Where’s the rest of her pants?”

“On vacation with the rest of your legs,” Ava said. “What are you, like four-feet tall?”

“Five-one,” Abby huffed.

“Whatever.” Ava rolled her eyes then turned to her mom. “Can I have some money? I’m hungry.”

Jordan handed her a twenty. But when Ava went to take the bill, Jordan didn’t let go. “If I find out that you gave this to Mr. Sexy Syrah two rows over, who promised to sneak you a couple of bottles if you met him behind town hall—”

“You’ll do what, mom?” Again with the eye roll. “You already took away my internet and phone.”

“You want to try me, young lady?” Jordan said, all business. Even Jonah took a step back. “I will have Mr. Sexy arrested for soliciting a minor, you thrown in jail for being underage and in possession of alcohol, and you will spend the rest of senior year taking Tiny Tots Tap with me at the Tap and Barre School of Dance. Now, you still need money?”

“Gawd.” Ava drew out the word for so long Frankie was convinced she’d pass out from oxygen deprivation. Bad ass mom with wicked game: one. Bad attitude teen with a wardrobe disorder: zero.

The mayor tapped the mic and it echoed through the loud speakers. “Good afternoon, everyone.”

Silence settled throughout the park. A light breeze picked up and rustled some of the last leaves from their branches. Mrs. Rose snagged the Cork King crown from ChiChi and walked to the center of the stage. ChiChi settled on the Cork Prince award, but not before shooting the current Wine Commissioner a sharp look.

“Over five thousand corks have been cast, counted, and tallied. And the results are right here in these envelopes.” The mayor held up four gold-embossed envelopes and the crowd cheered. “It is with great honor that I get to present this year’s St. Helena First Harvest Cork Crawl’s royal court and crown the best wine of the harvest with the coveted title, Cork King.”

“About the party tonight,” Nate whispered, his breath tickling her ear. He hadn’t touched her yet; in fact he was keeping his distance today. Something that she had asked for when she saw that her grandfather was just a few tents away, but was now regretting.

She turned her head slightly and had a hard time speaking. He was still a companionable distance away, but she could feel his presence press through her entire body. “I haven’t decided yet.”

His eyes dropped to her lips. “Holding out for a better offer?”

“No, just making sure the offer still stands after the results are in.”

She had been putting off her decision because she didn’t want Nate to feel obligated to bring her if the results swung in her favor. Or if they swung his way, she didn’t want him to bring her out of pity. She wanted him to bring her because he liked being with her. So she’d wait until the results were in, gauge his interest level, and then make her decision.

“And the new Cork Princesses of this year’s harvest comes from… the Stags Leap District. Chiappa Vineyards for their Petite Syrah reserve.”

“Ohmigod Ohmigod Ohmigod,” Abby chanted harshly over the cheering. “We won. I mean you won, well I was on your team, but you freaking won.” She looked at Nate. “Sorry about being number two. You do know that it is the first loser.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look,” Abby practically screeched. “Look at Nora Kincaid. Look where she is standing.”

Nora Kincaid had been huddled with her ear pressed to the tally tent for the past thirty minutes. After sharing a few hushed words with Mrs. Rose, she had taken up residence next to Charles’s booth. And she wasn’t just standing there, she had her phone set to camera, and her fingers were hovering over the snap-and-load-to-Facebook button.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” But Frankie knew that it did. “It could mean that he won.”

Something that would not be the end of the world. Sure, it would burn to lose to Kenneth, but Frankie knew what kind of boost being crowned king could give her grandfather. She’d spent most of the day watching him, partly hoping to catch his gaze and silently wish him good luck. But mostly she was worried over how tired he looked, how fragile he appeared. When had her hellion of a grandfather gotten so old?

“Nope,” Jordan said, clapping her hands. “If he won, then she’d be filming you.”

“Can you guys be quiet?” Ava hissed. “You just missed winner of the Cork Prince.”

“Who was it?”

“Doesn’t matter, it wasn’t you.”

Frankie looked back at her grandfather. It wasn’t him either. Which meant that between her, Nate, and Charles someone was going to have a really crappy night.

Frankie felt a warm hand engulf hers. She looked up and saw Nate smiling down on her. He didn’t say anything, but then he didn’t have to. He was doing the one thing that she needed but was too embarrassed to ask for. He was supporting her no matter what.

“And the Cork Queen of this year’s harvest comes from the St. Helena Appellation area.” The mayor took a dramatic pause and Frankie’s heart literally stopped. Her hand tightened around Nate’s and he gave a quick squeeze back. She looked up to find him not watching the mayor, but staring down at her. “Please give a warm hand to DeLuca Vineyards for their Cabernet Sauvignon.”

Frankie wasn’t sure what she expected, but it hadn’t been for his smile to widen. For his eyes to go soft and him to look genuinely happy for her. And proud of her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m not.”

“We still don’t know if I won. Charles could take it.”

He shook his head. “You won, honey. This is your moment.”

Frankie looked at Charles whose eyes were firmly fixed on the mayor. “And finally, I am honored to say that this year’s Cork King also hails from the St. Helena Applications.”

She watched as Charles finally looked her way. His eyes weren’t warm, but they weren’t angry either. They looked desperate, scared, as though everything he had was riding on the mayor’s next words. And suddenly Frankie got an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Please welcome our new King Cork, Red Steel Cellars for their Cabernet Sauvignon reserve blend.”