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“I usually don’t this early in the day.”
Obviously amused, Riley cocked a hip. “Are you usually in a villa in Greece about to talk about god-stars this early in the day?”
“No.” Good point. “I’ll have the wine.”
Sasha followed, past an archway that opened into a room with a piano and another smaller fireplace, another room filled with books, a formal dining room, a masculine den or study, and on to the kitchen.
Riley had thrown open the triple doors of glass to the shaded terrace beyond so the scent of lemons and roses danced in on the breeze.
“This is the most incredible place. I can’t believe anyone would just let us stay here.”
“Pays to have contacts. The guy has vineyards.” Riley tapped a bottle of white she’d taken from the wine cooler. “I figured it’s only polite we start with one of his. Why don’t you deal with that?”
“Okay.” She ran a hand over one of the counters, the granite swirled with gold and cream and brown. “A kitchen this big should be intimidating, but it’s homey. Everything’s really up-to-date, but you contrast that with the dishes in the breakfront there, the butcher block table and island, the cottagey-style chairs, and it’s relaxed.”
“I’ll be more relaxed with food and wine.”
Sasha hunted up a corkscrew while Riley poked through an enormous refrigerator. “Big pantry over there—you could live in it. And a vegetable garden outside we’re to harvest from. We’ll work out some sort of divvying for the yard work. And the chickens. The coop’s out behind the garden.”
Riley sliced from a big round of brown bread. “That’s a commercial stove,” she added, “which means I’m not going near it.”
Though she couldn’t wait to try it out, Sasha decided to keep that to herself before Riley decided she was full captain of the kitchen again.
“The men wanted beer. Is there beer?”
Riley jerked a thumb at the refrigerator, and switched from slicing bread to slicing tomatoes.
“We should eat outside. I’ll set that up.”
She found bamboo place mats, opted for the colorful plates, cherry-red napkins, and entertained herself setting a festive table under the wooden slats of a pergola. She transferred the bowl of fruit from the butcher block to the outside table, turned back when she heard male voices.
“Let’s test it out then.”
She came back in as Bran poured a small amount of the wine into a glass. After a sip, he nodded.
“I’ll go with it.”
“Make it unanimous. You scored a hell of a place here.”
“My thoughts exactly. Sasha says we eat outside, and I’m all for it.” Riley set the last of four enormous sandwiches on a platter, dumped half the contents of a bag of chips into a bowl. “Let’s eat.”
Sasha eyed the size of the sandwiches, and when they sat down, cut one in half, put the second half back on the platter.
Bran took a hefty bite of his own. “You’re definitely the queen of sandwiches.”