of wine.
I fiddled with the stem of my wine glass before answering. “Honestly? I don't know anything about wine and I have no idea what I just did.”
He took a sip of his red. “Would you like to?”
I nodded and he smiled. He turned and snagged two empty wine glasses from the table behind him and set them on the table. “We'll start with yours. First, look at the bottle. Evaluate the shape, the size and it's condition. Then look at the cork. The cork tells you a lot about the wine. Is it a nice cork? Is it cheaply made? Does it smell good?”
I pulled the cork from the wine bottle and inhaled the scent. “It smells good. And it's not falling apart, so I guess that means it's a good cork?”
“Yes,” he said with a nod. “Though, the cork is becoming less important as wineries shift to plastic or even screw-top to prevent corked wine.”
“Corked wine?” I asked.
“Where the cork has contaminated the wine,” he explained.
“Oh, okay.” I held up the cork. “This does not have that.”
“Next, the sample.” Aiden poured a small amount of the golden liquid into an empty wine glass. “Look at the wine. Look at the color. It tells you about maturity and quality. Color changes with age—whites darken and reds lighten. It should also be clear and not have anything floating in it.”
The wine looked golden and soft. I couldn't see anything wrong so I nodded for him to continue.
“Now, swirl.” He demonstrated the gentle rocking motion with his wrist. “See how it runs down the glass? Those are the 'legs'. The faster they run down the side, the less alcohol and body it will have. Long legs indicate a fuller body and more alcohol.”
“How do my legs compare?” I asked, looking at my wine and trying to decide if the liquid was moving fast or slow. I didn't even think of the sexual implication until he bent to the side and lifted up the table cloth.
“You have short legs, though very nice ones. Much like your wine.” Aiden winked and flashed me a cocky smile that made my stomach flutter.
I blushed, embarrassed that I had walked so blindly into that, but took the compliment.
“Now, the most important part: the smell.” Aiden watched as I put the open glass to my nose and inhaled. “Swirling it helps aerate the wine and increase the smell. Close your eyes and tell me what you smell.”
“I smell... wine.” I opened my eyes, feeling defeated.
“Try again,” he coached.
I took one last look at him and closed my eyes. I needed to concentrate. “I smell... apples. Green apples.” I opened my eyes, surprised at the new scent in my wine.
He grinned. “Good. What else?”
“Citrus. It reminds me of limes,” I said hesitantly. I didn't want to be wrong.
“Perfect. Now taste it,” he instructed. “ Just a small taste, let it run across your tongue and fill your senses.”
I tried not to squirm as I thought of the erotic implications of that sentence. I would like to run him across my tongue and have him fill my senses. I kept my eyes closed, knowing that he would see all my lusty thoughts if I opened them. “It's not sweet, but crisp. I can taste the apple in it. There's no burn at the end like some wines have.”
“Excellent,” he praised me. I opened my eyes to see him staring at me. There was a small pride and a lot of desire in that gaze. A deep need in my core started ache for him.
“Can I try yours?” I asked, setting my glass down.
“Please,” he responded, obviously glad I wanted to try more. “Have a sip of water and then try it.” I sipped on my water to clear the taste of the first wine before he handed me the bottle and a new glass.
My hands shook a little as I poured a small amount and narrated my actions. “The bottle is pretty. The cork looks and smells good.” I set the bottle and cork down and picked up the wine glass to swirl. “Yours has longer legs than mine, which is true it both cases.”
Aiden chuckled and I grinned at him before closing my eyes
I fiddled with the stem of my wine glass before answering. “Honestly? I don't know anything about wine and I have no idea what I just did.”
He took a sip of his red. “Would you like to?”
I nodded and he smiled. He turned and snagged two empty wine glasses from the table behind him and set them on the table. “We'll start with yours. First, look at the bottle. Evaluate the shape, the size and it's condition. Then look at the cork. The cork tells you a lot about the wine. Is it a nice cork? Is it cheaply made? Does it smell good?”
I pulled the cork from the wine bottle and inhaled the scent. “It smells good. And it's not falling apart, so I guess that means it's a good cork?”
“Yes,” he said with a nod. “Though, the cork is becoming less important as wineries shift to plastic or even screw-top to prevent corked wine.”
“Corked wine?” I asked.
“Where the cork has contaminated the wine,” he explained.
“Oh, okay.” I held up the cork. “This does not have that.”
“Next, the sample.” Aiden poured a small amount of the golden liquid into an empty wine glass. “Look at the wine. Look at the color. It tells you about maturity and quality. Color changes with age—whites darken and reds lighten. It should also be clear and not have anything floating in it.”
The wine looked golden and soft. I couldn't see anything wrong so I nodded for him to continue.
“Now, swirl.” He demonstrated the gentle rocking motion with his wrist. “See how it runs down the glass? Those are the 'legs'. The faster they run down the side, the less alcohol and body it will have. Long legs indicate a fuller body and more alcohol.”
“How do my legs compare?” I asked, looking at my wine and trying to decide if the liquid was moving fast or slow. I didn't even think of the sexual implication until he bent to the side and lifted up the table cloth.
“You have short legs, though very nice ones. Much like your wine.” Aiden winked and flashed me a cocky smile that made my stomach flutter.
I blushed, embarrassed that I had walked so blindly into that, but took the compliment.
“Now, the most important part: the smell.” Aiden watched as I put the open glass to my nose and inhaled. “Swirling it helps aerate the wine and increase the smell. Close your eyes and tell me what you smell.”
“I smell... wine.” I opened my eyes, feeling defeated.
“Try again,” he coached.
I took one last look at him and closed my eyes. I needed to concentrate. “I smell... apples. Green apples.” I opened my eyes, surprised at the new scent in my wine.
He grinned. “Good. What else?”
“Citrus. It reminds me of limes,” I said hesitantly. I didn't want to be wrong.
“Perfect. Now taste it,” he instructed. “ Just a small taste, let it run across your tongue and fill your senses.”
I tried not to squirm as I thought of the erotic implications of that sentence. I would like to run him across my tongue and have him fill my senses. I kept my eyes closed, knowing that he would see all my lusty thoughts if I opened them. “It's not sweet, but crisp. I can taste the apple in it. There's no burn at the end like some wines have.”
“Excellent,” he praised me. I opened my eyes to see him staring at me. There was a small pride and a lot of desire in that gaze. A deep need in my core started ache for him.
“Can I try yours?” I asked, setting my glass down.
“Please,” he responded, obviously glad I wanted to try more. “Have a sip of water and then try it.” I sipped on my water to clear the taste of the first wine before he handed me the bottle and a new glass.
My hands shook a little as I poured a small amount and narrated my actions. “The bottle is pretty. The cork looks and smells good.” I set the bottle and cork down and picked up the wine glass to swirl. “Yours has longer legs than mine, which is true it both cases.”
Aiden chuckled and I grinned at him before closing my eyes
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