A Taste of Sauvignon by Heather Heyford Page B

called them giants. They were the first people he saw when his ship landed there, five hundred years ago. He claimed he and his men only came up to the Patagonian’s waists.”
    â€œYou’re a Patagonian?”
    He shrugged. “That’s what my grandfather told me, when I asked him if I’d grow up to be as tall as he was.” He grinned. “I’m still playing catchup to him and Uncle Esteban. They were both six-six.”
    They packed the cooler with ice and food and took off again, breeze blowing across them through the open windows.
    When Esteban pulled up to a house in a neighborhood off Route 1, there was already a guy standing outside, waiting. Esteban got out to help him load his equipment into the truck bed.
    The stranger opened the passenger-side door. “Shimmy over, sweet lips.”
    Before Savvy could take offense, he was jamming a soft-sided cooler into the space behind the seat.
    Esteban slid in and made the introductions.
    If anyone had told her she’d be spending her Sunday squeezed between two men on her way to who-knows-where, she’d have said he was crazy. Yet here she was, yanking down on the hem of her dress, each of her shoulders mere inches from one of theirs.
    Grinning salaciously, Shane bent forward to address Esteban, as if she were deaf. “Where ya been hidin’ her?”
    She felt Esteban’s shoulder stiffen. When he ignored the question, Shane turned his attention to her.
    â€œYou like abs?”
    Savvy forced a tight smile. She was stuck here, and they still had miles to go. Maybe she should overlook Shane’s comment, give him the benefit of the doubt. He might just be simple-minded. Ignorant, yet nothing to be afraid of. After all, he was Esteban’s friend, wasn’t he? Esteban wouldn’t put her in danger. Somehow, she knew that.
    â€œI’ve only tasted them once. Yes. They’re good.”
    Shane’s eyes flicked to her bare knees, and she squeezed them together involuntarily.
    The men talked fishing while Savvy focused on staring straight out the windshield and not letting any of her body parts touch theirs. Before long, the road curved to the right to hug the Sonoma Coast, and watching for the sporadic views of the cliffs and the Pacific far below Route 1 absorbed everyone’s attention.
    â€œAlmost there,” said Esteban.
    Shane slid his arm around her. She flinched until she realized he was only digging in his cooler behind the seat. When he pulled out a beer and popped the top, she said, “You can’t drink that in here.”
    Shane took a swig. “Watch me.” He grinned defiantly.
    â€œI can’t be in a car with an open container. I’m a lawyer. If we get pulled over, I could be disbarred.”
    â€œWhy’re you gonna get disbarred, when I’m the one drinking?”
    â€œIt’s the law. Everyone in the car is liable for arrest.”
    â€œAh, quit worrying. Esteban’s a good driver, aren’t you, E? We’re not gonna get stopped.”
    â€œI’m serious. Can’t you just wait till we get there?”
    â€œCan’t you just relax?”
    Savvy looked to Esteban. His eyes stayed glued to the road, his mouth a thin line. Eyes forward again, she assessed her situation, tamping down her rising hysteria. She hated being at the mercy of other people. Trapped next to an idiot in a speeding vehicle, not knowing precisely where she was, where she was going, she might as well be hurtling off a cliff.
    Mentally, she tried to talk herself down. Maybe she was overly anxious. Esteban wasn’t drinking. That was the important thing. Besides, he’d said they were almost there.
    Shane chugged his beer, tossed it onto the floor of the cab, and reached around her again.
    She shot him an incredulous look. “Another one?” Quick as a wink, she bent down, picked up the empty and tossed it out the window on Esteban’s side.
    â€œHey!