the hottest smith

"i think so." she turned back to him, confirming that she meant every word. her camera was still in her bag, or she might have snapped a picture then, capturing the winemaker himself among his own creation. she wasn't confident she would be able to do it justice, her own eyes barely able to grasp the scope of what he'd created.

"like it?" she looked back at him, wreathed in snapdragons and haloed in goodness. there wasn't an exact word for what she felt, she'd spent so long without expression in her home, traveling from a sterile los angeles home to production offices. this was the opposite, loud and expressive, asking for her to stay as long as she like and take it all in. "i'm still not sure it's real."

The winemaker might have been Jo Harrison’s biggest fan. He subscribed to multiple magazines just to follow her professional footprint. It originally started as a way to help make the distance feel a little more manageable but he found himself actually really enjoying the work. The articles and journals were interesting and engaging, even.

But having Jo in Carroll was better than any magazine and he was running out of excuses to keep her at the vineyard. The snapdragons were creative and just a little outlandish but it had worked.

“Good,” he grinned like (a bit of) an idiot. Her enjoyment made it all the better. Unreal was a good way to describe it. All of it, actually. Jo in Carroll with him. He'd gotten lucky when he realized Ethan was in town. He passed along the information and the rest was history.

Noah instinctively stood up straight when she took a spot next to him. He let his eyes linger on her profile before following her gaze. Oh, she was right. It did look like spring. The place felt a lot like the way it did when he'd stepped into Petals Floral–like he'd been transported somewhere else entirely. An eternal spring.

Irvin had thought that moving back to Carroll would be easier, that somehow it would fix things, make him feel better even, now in hindsight he wasn't so sure anymore, at least he was able to find a job at the flower shop so not all was bad.

As he pushed the front door open, the fresh aroma of flowers flooded his senses. It smelled like spring, spring, spring. Technicolor buds and blooms littered the shelves. Pots filled to the brim with lush flora crowded the ground, leaving a distinct pathway. Before the winemaker could step further into the shop, he found a distraught person crouched before him.

“You haven't seen a pair of glasses, have you?”

Noah’s first thought was that the person's  accent felt very fitting for the floral shop, like it was something that grew here in rich soil among the flowers. Then, he realized he should do something to help. Approaching the front table, he sunk into his heels to aid in the search.

“Let me help you,” he insisted. He scanned the floor carefully for any sign of the lost spectacles. After a few moments, Noah located a pair of circular glasses nestled between two pots of hydrangeas. “Are these your glasses?” Noah lifted them up for them to see only to realize how ironic the whole situation was. No, this person probably couldn't see what he was holding up. 

“My bad, here,” Noah handed the glasses to the person for closer inspection.

“Hangin’ out the passenger's side of your best friend's ride. Tryna holler at me,” his grind widened, making the skin around his eyes crinkle with delight.

He loved his cousin. She was his best friend just like Ney. They were blood but they also stuck with each other. They were stuck with him. Grace had rescued him in highschool. After his mother died, he couldn't stand to be in that house. With Ney deployed and his dad's strict parenting style, Noah had felt utterly alone. And then Grace came to him like an angel and took him away. Saved him from himself.

“Are you sure you don't need any help, G? I feel bad just sitting here,” Noah leaned against his elbows. He felt weird just hanging out while Grace did all the work. The least he could do was ask.

He kept his sunglasses on, letting the moment stretch. Once Noah shifted and the sun returned to where it belonged on Joel he closed his eyes, tilting his face toward the warmth and basking in it for a beat. He cracked one eye open when Noah spoke, his gaze drifting to the nearly empty glass beside him. “It was almost as delicious as the vineyard owner,” Joel said lightly.

He flashed Noah the infamous Abernathy smile, the one that was charming and flirtatious, before letting his eye fall shut again, head tipping back. “I wouldn’t mind another glass, actually.” Joel paused for a moment before he turned his face just enough in Noah’s direction. “I think I may be here for a couple more hours now that I’ve secured your attention and your company.”

But Noah Smith was not having a midlife crisis or an existential crisis. He didn't need to be something he wasn't.

“Glad to hear that,” he bobbed his head in acknowledgement, still feeling rather shy.

Joel smiled at Noah and it was all over for the winemaker. He might as well just give the man a key to the cellar. Let him have whatever he wanted. 

“I'll go find us something to drink,” Noah rose to his feet, thankful to be released from Joel's spell, and headed toward the bar.

He returned only a few moments later with a bottle in each hand. A pale white with a label depicting an impressionistic painting of the California coast and a deep red with a sleek black label. Both were his favorite creations from 2022 and he thought they'd be right up Joel's alley. “Which do you want first, white or red?” 

Interesting how it had taken her so long to get out here, but with Valentines day on the horizon, she'd had the stroke of genius of trying to maybe find a wine she could brand in some way to do with the club. To serve as a special on valentines.

One would be shocked how many couples decided to try a spicy trip to Eden's Garden on Valentines, hoping to ignite their own bedrooms. Not nearly as many came to distract from their own loneliness, but in the end it was her pockets their money ended up in.

His dark eyes fell on the large glass windows that overlooked the endless rolling vineyard. The syrupy azure sky kissed the horizon and Noah felt the overwhelming urge to just disappear into the maze of grapevines. Walk until his legs stopped working.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in,” Noah cleared his throat. He straightened the pile of papers on his desk to convince himself that he looked busy.

His employee poked her head around the door, a look of fear and nerves haunted her face. 

“What's wrong?” Noah's eyebrows raised in concern. He filtered through worst case scenarios. The bathroom flooded. The kitchen was on fire.

“Sada is here to see you.”

Oh, that was bad.

Noah stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. He looked like an animal ready to make a break for it. To be fair, Sada Van was a carnivore and Noah was just a fawn in comparison. She scared the shit out of him. Between her cool beauty and coy attitude, she was a force to be reckoned with and Noah was in no position to be reckoning with anyone.

“Right,” realization dawned on Noah. He'd forgotten the woman had set up an appointment with him. Rather than stressing over the planned interaction, he'd pushed it out of his mind. Made it future Noah's problem. 

His pulse kicked up a few notches. Sweat prickled in his palms. It was a bad time to have a panic attack.

No, he was a big boy. He had tools for this, he reminded himself. He took a few deep breaths through his mouth and exhaled through his nose. Closing his eyes, he focused on grounding himself. His feet firmly on the ground. The sky above him, the earth below him. He was alright.

Following the employee out of his office, he found his visitor waiting for him in the lobby. She was just as threatening as he remembered, her impossibly long eyelashes low over her dark eyes as she looked down on Noah. He wasn't sure how she managed to look down on him as he was several inches taller than her. But the sentiment was still there. 

“Ms. Sada Vang, good to see you,” he greeted, offering her a mild smile.

Noah led the woman to the tasting room. The sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood floor felt like a death march. He was alright. 

The winemaker pulled a chair out for Sada before taking a seat across from her. “To what do I owe the please?” Noah was under the impression the woman wanted to do business with Golden Coast, but he was feeling fuzzy on the details. 

After a few moments passed, a server appeared with a bottle of red wine. He poured two glasses before disappearing. “This is from our 2023 summer collection,” he explained. It was a crowd favorite because of its well-balanced and notes of fresh fruit. He thought Sada might like it.

Sleep? Who knew her? Neylani carried in a couple of wine glasses, filled almost to the brim with the new bottle Noah had brought for them to taste. She was so thankful to have him there tonight, even if only a few hours, because it kept her mind off other things. Specifically— work, and the investigation into that accident which had disrupted all of their lives, and left two of her rugrats broken. Not to mention, it was just difficult for her to get any decent rest regardless, in this empty four-bedroom home she bought over ten years ago, with the thought that by age thirty-seven it would be filled with a husband and two-point-five children already.

"Noah, I need you to stop screaming 'kiss her, kiss her' at the screen," she advised her brother, amused, as she handed him another glass and resumed her spot on the couch. Ney tucked her legs in, the oversized off-shoulder sweater practically drowning her slender frame as she balanced her own glass at her knee. "Colin doesn't even know how he feels yet."

He shrugged, throwing one leg over the other. He was unanused by Colin Bridgerton’s indecisiveness. How could he not know how he felt when the stunning Penelope was standing right there? With her lovely red hair and beautiful eyes and incredible mind. Noah was convinced the third eldest Bridgerton was an idiot.

He didn't even like the show. 

“How can he not know how he feels? I mean just look at how he's looking at her?” Noah made an obscene gesture at the screen with his wineglass. The motion sloshed the liquid, nearly spilling its contents. Noah might have been a little intoxicated at that point. Maybe.

It was Ney's fault though. Just because Noah had brought four bottles of wine for his sister to try didn't mean they had to drink through all of them. And yes, the winemaker was a bit of a lightweight to begin with.

He snagged a handful of charcuterie fixings from the elegant spread on the coffee table and shoveled them into his mouth between chews, he added, “he's spent most of his screentime screwing other girls. Pen is too good for him.” 

Again, he didn't even really like the show. He was just watching it because Ney liked it. And he'd never admit he'd read the entire book series. Twice. What his sister didn't know didn't hurt his reputation.

"i didn't realize this was going to be a—" she broke, shaking her head still disbelief at the stage he'd set for her. she'd asked to take pictures of the winery because she loved the rolling hill of the vineyard, the beautiful arbors that noah had created in the midst of a coastal town. it'd felt like the perfect amount of work to add to her article, though she couldn't pretend to feign concern for the work. it had been an excuse, a reason to stay in town long enough to buy a house. now, it was much more important to her, because it was a hundred bouquets important to noah. "is there a proposal happening?"

Incredible indeed, he thought as he watched a smile lit up Josephine’s face. It was an expression Noah had the pleasure of witnessing over the years. But still, it felt like the first time he'd seen the sun. When she smiled, it seemed like delight rippled through her. Almost like a breeze that sent a shiver up her spine.

Noah would do anything for that smile. 

“I'm glad you think so,” he breathed.

He'd thought his interest in the photographer was fleeting when they met in France. But nothing with the winemaker had ever been fleeting. Or casual for that matter. No, instead, his eyes always found her first. He wanted to make her look at him. Really see him. 

So that's how he'd ended up with one hundred bouquets.

“No proposal,” he quickly added. He understood how Jo came to that conclusion. The vibrant flowers made the vineyard look like it belonged on the front of a wedding magazine. Not that the place needed much help to begin with. It was already dreamy and ethereal with its abundance of natural light and lush landscape. “I just thought the vineyard needed something bright to get us through January,” he shrugged. “Do you like it?”

Joel surveyed the vineyard over the rim of his sunglasses, watching the locals chatter as if they were doing something worth his attention. He’d probably spent too much time here, but when a town offered exactly two forms of entertainment—wine tasting and whatever small-minded gossip passed for drama—repetition was inevitable. Ingrid was off doing something with the cheer squad, or maybe parading around this lame excuse for an engagement. Joel couldn’t be bothered to remember which.

He was alone, bored, and already several glasses deep. Fourth? Fifth? It hardly mattered. He swirled the wine with practiced disinterest and tapped his pinky ring against the bowl, listening to the delicate clink. The wine wasn’t terrible, which was faint praise, and he found himself craving something stronger. Something that didn’t pretend to be rustic charm in a bottle. He also briefly considered stealing the glass. It had a clean, elegant line that would look far better in his own kitchen than sitting here for tourists to paw at. He took another measured sip, deliberately leaving just enough to justify lingering, and set the glass down. A shadow fell across the table.

“You’re blocking my sun,” Joel said without looking up. When he did, he recognized the vineyard owner. His irritation smoothed instantly into something pleasant and polished. “Noah. Nice to see you,” he said, gesturing lazily to the empty chair. “Care to join me and relocate yourself out of my sunlight?”

Instead, he milled about the tasting room, greeting the regulars with a wide smile. During the off season, he typically catered to the usual Carroll crowd and a handful of tourists. It was just how he liked it, quiet and full of familiar faces. The midday sun pooled through the large glass windows, blanketing the warm wooden floors in soft light.

Despite having plenty of staff, Noah Smith loved working the floor. There was something special about handpicking and pouring a bottle for someone that treasured his life's work. It made him a bit of a pushover, but that wasn't a problem. Not really. 

He stepped out onto the patio, the pleasant winter air brought the smell of the ocean with it. Noah grinned and continued his rounds. Collecting empty bottles and glasses, he stopped in his tracks. His eyes fell on the rolling landscape, grapevines and golden earth for miles and miles. 

Ah, this was why he'd bought the place all those years ago. It was beautiful enough to take his breath away.

“You're in my sun,” a familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. 

Noah found himself face to face with Joel Abernathy. He wasn't surprised to see the Carroll royalty lounging at his vineyard. In the last six months, the handsome man spent a lot of his time draped across the furniture with a wine glass in hand. And Noah wasn't complaining.

“It’s nice to see you too,” Noah returned the greeting, an easy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t mind if I do.”

He dropped into an open seat and folded one leg over the other. “What do you think?” The winemaker eyed the nearly empty glass with curiosity. He knew Joel had expensive taste but it seemed he liked to rotate between Noah's stock. 

Grace Reynold's Mood board: The Smith Cousins. @angstfactory @noahhhfence