He swallowed hard and licked his suddenly dry lips. “Claire, are you wearing anything under that dress?”
She turned to show him her bare back. Claire looked over her shoulder and gave him a saucy grin that was worthy of a vintage pinup girl. “I am stark naked under here.”
Jason groaned and rubbed his fingertips against his forehead as lust flashed through his veins. “You shouldn’t have told me that, Claire. I’m going to be thinking about it all night.”
“Good,” she decided. “I want you to keep an eye on me instead of letting me stand on the sidelines.”
That wasn’t possible. Her sparkling smile and sensual beauty was going to attract everyone to gather around her.
“People are already arriving,” she mentioned as she jerked her thumb at the door. “I know you want to be there to greet your guests.”
“In a minute,” he said. “There’s something I want to give you first.”
She perched her hip on the corner of her desk, her leg brushing against his. “Aren’t you nervous about the party? I would be. I never entertain because I’m always worried about no one showing up or something going horribly wrong.”
“It’s the unexpected that makes the party,” he insisted.
“I guess you would see it that way,” she said. “But you’ve hosted so many events since you’ve opened the tasting room. You must hope for the unexpected.”
“I hope that everyone enjoys the party. I want them to have enough fun that they want to return for the next event.”
“You have nothing to worry about.” She rested her hand against his arm and gave an encouraging squeeze. “A lot of people responded to the invitation and I’m sure this will be a successful celebration for your reserve label.”
Jason’s smile widened. Claire didn’t give false praise or sweeping predictions. He reached for the wineglass. “Here, have a taste of the merlot.”
“Oh, you want me to help describe it to the guests?” she asked as she settled more firmly on the desk. “I learned some things in the wine-tasting courses you offer.”
It wasn’t part of his plan for her to help him at the party, but he did want to see how she would describe the wine. “Go ahead. What do you think?” He watched as she intently studied the rich color before she swirled the liquid in the glass. Claire took a quick whiff and murmured with pleasure.
“Big. Bold.” She took an experimental sip. “I would say it has a dark, fruit flavor. Cherry? Maybe boysenberry? It’s a berry for sure.”
He always associated Claire with this merlot. She could express her boldness but she could also surprise him by showing a little spice. “Anything else?”
She tasted it again. “It’s soft and rounded. Voluptuous, really.”
Just like Claire. His skin tightened as he imagined exploring and tasting her with his tongue.
Claire pursed her lips. “I want to say there are hints of chocolate or coffee.”
He leaned in closer. “And what would you pair with it?”
Her eyes lit up. “Ah, now this I know thanks to the wine-pairing articles I put up on your website. The printable grocery list for the charcuterie is popular but I’m not really into pâtés and terrines.”
“I know.” She had thought his list was too fancy and told him so on many occasions. Her gaze darted away as she tried to remember what she had read. “I think you recommend dishes with meat or game. I’ve noticed merlot pairs well with Cajun food.” She suddenly snapped her fingers. “But I want to say chocolate, though I don’t remember that on your list. Let’s put it this way—I’d pair merlot with chocolate.”
He was impressed. “I thought about the wine and food pairings when I made a dessert in your honor.”
“You really did that?” She set her wineglass down with an awkward clink and pressed her hands against her pink cheeks. “Jason, I hope you didn’t go to too much effort. I was just thinking out loud.”
His eyes narrowed as he gave her a knowing look. “You wanted me to do it. You have this fantasy of having something named after you.”
“I wouldn’t say fantasy, but yeah, you caught me,” she said with a laugh as she lowered her hands. “This is so exciting. What did you decide on?”
Jason was nervous at the prospect of showing it to her. What if she didn’t like it? What if it wasn’t at all what she had hoped for? “I didn’t create the recipe,” he said, unable to meet her eyes. “You can really do it at home.”