White Wedding: A Christmas Romantic Comedy (Blackwood Cellars Series Book 3)

by Carla Luna

  He laughed. “Mostly rum, you mean. That punch is intoxicating as hell.”

  She stumbled slightly, then grabbed onto his arm. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” He helped her navigate around the table, waving goodbye to the bartender as they left.

  She couldn’t believe how woozy she felt. Not drunk. But fuzzy around the edges. She hoped the brisk night air would clear her head, but the five-minute walk back to Rafael’s apartment complex didn’t give her enough time to recover.

  She leaned against her car and took a deep breath. “I can’t drive. I’ll have to call an Uber.” When she checked her screen, she groaned. “Thirty-minute wait time? Are you kidding?” Her teeth chattered as the wind picked up. If she’d known it was going to be this chilly, she would have brought a coat.

  “Do you want to come inside?” Rafael said.

  She didn’t want to wait in the cold, but she couldn’t risk anyone catching them together. “What about your cousins? Don’t they live with you?”

  “They should be asleep by now. Unlike me, they have work on Monday morning. But I can go in first to make sure the coast is clear.”

  She checked her phone again. Now the wait time was forty minutes. “Okay. Just until my ride gets here.”

  He took her arm. “I’d offer to drive you home, but I had two beers. I can’t risk getting pulled over.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  He led her up the stairs, and she waited outside while he unlocked the door. A moment later, he emerged, giving a thumbs-up. “It’s all good. Let me help you. I don’t want to turn on the light.”

  She stumbled again as she made her way into the apartment, grateful for the support of his arm. In the darkness, she could barely make out anything, and she cursed under her breath when she walked into a chair. For a heart-pounding moment, she stopped cold, barely daring to breathe. But the place was silent, save for the ticking of a clock. When they reached Rafael’s bedroom, he shut the door behind them and turned on a bedside lamp, flooding the room with a soft glow.

  The room was dominated by a king bed with a navy comforter, adorned with a pile of embroidered pillows. She picked up a pink one and smirked. “Rosé all day? Wouldn’t have taken you for a wine mom.”

  “One of Araceli’s passion projects, a few years ago. Everyone in the family ended up with them that Christmas.”

  “Cute.” She pushed aside a pillow embroidered with the words “Kiss the Cook” and sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you think I could get some water? It might help clear my head.”

  “Sure. Hang on.” He crept out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Victoria bent down and took off her heels. But when she straightened up, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She lay down and closed her eyes, hoping the feeling would pass.

  Rafael turned on the kitchen light and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. A tap on his shoulder made him jump, and the bottle tumbled from his hands.

  “Whoa. Chill out, dude.” Dario stood beside him, dressed in a Padres t-shirt and a pair of ratty pajama bottoms. Like his brother Ernesto, he was tall, lean, and prone to a scruffy, three-day beard growth.

  As Rafael bent down to pick up the water bottle, panic flooded through him. Had he left the bedroom door open? Was Victoria visible? “I…ah…was just getting some water. What’s up?”

  “Needed a little late-night snack.” Dario opened the fridge, took out a container, and grimaced as he peeked into it. “This shit’s nasty.” He shoved it back inside.

  Rafael reached around him and removed the container. “Don’t put it back in there. I’ll clean it out tomorrow.” He inched backward, hoping to avoid further conversation.

  Dario was still watching him. “How was that thing at Araceli’s? You get all that shit done for the wedding?”

  “For the most part. It’s looking good.”

  “Did Victoria show up?”

  He froze in place. “Wh…why would you think she’d be there?”

  Dario tilted his head to the side, like he couldn’t believe Rafael was that clueless. “Isn’t she coordinating the wedding?”

  Duh. “Right. She came for a bit. Helped out with the gingerbread houses.” He held up the water bottle. “I…I should get to bed. I’m wiped.”

  But Dario had already lost interest. He poked his head back into the fridge. “Okay if I eat these leftover enchiladas?”

  “Go for it.” Rafael hustled back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

  Victoria lay on his bed, fast asleep, her purse tucked under her arm. She must have been more looped than he thought. Either that, or the combination of exhaustion and alcohol had knocked her out.

  He prodded her shoulder gently. “Victoria?”

  She looked so sweet, lying on his bed. But she probably wouldn’t appreciate waking up in it. From inside her purse, her phone buzzed. Though he didn’t want to pry, he took it out and browsed the notifications in case her driver had arrived early. No dice. The driver had canceled. Not surprising since it was after midnight on a Sunday, and his neighborhood wasn’t the nicest part of Escondido. He set her phone back in her purse.

  What would it hurt if he let her nap? Given the late hour, he didn’t feel that great about her taking a ride-share alone.

  As he watched her sleep, a rush of emotions surged through him. Affection. Empathy. Longing. What was it about her that made him lose his self-control? If he were being truly responsible, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He would have bid her good night after Araceli’s party and headed back to his apartment alone. But he was as fiercely drawn to her now as he’d been in Baja.

  Before he rescued her on the beach, he’d made it a policy not to hook up with the guests at the resort. Though there weren’t any rules against it, he didn’t want a reputation as a player. He’d had his fill of that shit in Escondido. So, he’d resisted Victoria, at least until they camped out on the beach together. But when she attempted to seduce him, he gave in willingly. The next two weeks had been unforgettable.

  Her forced himself to look away and picked up an Italian cookbook from the stack by his bed. His collection of second-hand cookbooks was an obsession his brothers teased him about constantly. As if he was a grumpy old man who didn’t know how to look up recipes on the internet. But nothing beat the satisfaction of paging through a beautifully photographed cookbook, letting his mind wander as he imagined visiting different countries and trying all the food.

  Inspired by the conversation he’d had with Victoria in her office, he set down the book and grabbed one featuring recipes from France. He turned to the baking section and took his time paging through it.

  What would it be like to go to Paris? To learn how to make French pastries? More than anything, he’d love to go there with Victoria.

  After an hour, he could barely keep his eyes open. He nudged Victoria again, but she slept like the dead. He wasn’t about to sleep on the hardwood floor, so he’d have to take his chances in the bed with her.

  He changed into pajama bottoms but ditched his shirt. Dario had cranked up the heat again, making the apartment warmer than it needed to be. He carefully pulled the blankets out from under Victoria, then covered her back up. She would have been more comfortable without her pants, but he wasn’t about to take off any of her clothes. Not if he wanted her to trust him.

  As he settled into bed beside her, he put a few throw pillows between them. Anything to prevent him rolling over in the middle of the night and brushing up against her. He was almost tempted to kiss her forehead, but he resisted the urge.

  He was going to behave himself, even if it killed him. If all she needed from him was friendship, then that was what he’d give her.

  Chapter 18

  Twelve Days Until the Wedding

  Victoria struggled to get her bearings. Her brain was mired in a fog, she was wearing last night’s clothes, and she had no idea what time it was. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, only to come face-to-face with
Rafael, who lay beside her in bed, sleeping peacefully.

  His toned shoulders and chest peeked above the covers, making her wonder if the rest of him was bare. If she reached down to touch him, she’d have her answer. But on the chance he was a light sleeper, she was not going there.

  Bad enough that she was in his bedroom. In his bed.

  She took a deep breath and willed the memories to return. Last night, she’d come back to his apartment to wait for her ride-share. And she’d lain down in the hopes of easing her dizziness. But instead of reviving after a few minutes, she passed out on his bed. Judging from the light peeking under the shades, the sun had already risen.

  Oh God. She’d spent the entire night at his place.

  But nothing had happened. She was fully dressed. Besides, if anything had happened, she would have remembered it, regardless of her fuzzy brain.

  She was tempted to grab her things and flee. Make a quick exit to avoid any awkwardness. But leaving while Rafael was still asleep would be a coldhearted move. A call-back to her callous behavior in Baja. At the very least, she needed to thank him for taking care of her.

  Unfortunately, now that she was awake, her full bladder demanded attention. On her left, a sliding door revealed a closet filled with clothes. Beside it was another door. She eased out of bed and slunk across the room. When she tested the door handle, it opened to reveal a tiny bathroom. Barely big enough for one person, but perfect for her needs.

  After relieving herself, she took stock in the mirror. Hideous. Her braid had come undone, her mascara was hopelessly smeared, and her breath was disgusting. She unbraided her hair and ran her fingers through it, letting the dark strands fall loose around her shoulders. The only way to salvage the makeup was to scrub it off completely. Three swigs of minty mouthwash took care of her morning breath.

  She slipped back into bed and checked her phone. A few texts from Connor, but nothing urgent. A text from Araceli. And one from her father. She braced herself, hoping he hadn’t noticed she’d been gone all night.

  For once, the universe cut her a break.

  Heading to Napa on an early flight. Back on Weds @ noon.

  Yes. Two solid days of freedom.

  When she set down her phone, Rafael was stirring. He blinked and smiled at her. “Good morning.”

  His voice spilled over her like warm honey, the same bedroom voice he’d used in Baja, when he woke her every morning.

  “Umm…hi.” She tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry I passed out in your bed. Thanks for letting me crash, but I should probably take off.”

  He chuckled. “Hear that?”

  She strained her ears, suddenly aware of noises emanating from outside the bedroom door. Low voices. Footsteps. The beep of a microwave. She inhaled the tantalizing aroma of coffee. “Your cousins?”

  “They’re getting ready for work. So, unless you want to deal with a million questions, you’d better sit tight for now.” He sat up and stretched, putting his shirtless upper body on full display, then grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “It’s seven forty, so we have about forty-five minutes until they leave. Maybe an hour.”

  “An hour?” She stared at him, trying to pull away from the lure of his sculpted body. Her gaze lingered on his broad chest and the rows of tattoos running down his muscular arms. “Couldn’t you put a shirt on?”

  He smirked. “Why? Are you tempted?”

  Even if she was tempted, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She wiped her hand across her forehead. “It’s roasting in here. Any chance you could turn down the heat?”

  “The thermostat’s in the living room. Dario cranks it up too high, so I usually turn it down when I go to sleep, but I forgot last night.” He gave her a roguish smile. “It doesn’t help that you’re fully dressed.”

  His mocking tone set her pulse racing. If this was a challenge, she wasn’t backing down. “You want me to take off my clothes? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  He set down his phone, giving her his full attention. “You slept in my bed all night and I never touched you. I think I can control myself.”

  She glared at him. If he was going to tempt her with those luscious muscles and sexy tattoos, then two could play at that game. She peeled off her cashmere sweater and gave a sigh of relief. Much better. Lifting up her hips, she removed her pants and tossed them on the floor. All that remained were a red lace bra and matching panties.

  When he gaped at her, she raised her eyebrows. “What? You said you could control yourself.”

  “You didn’t mention you were wearing Victoria’s Secret underwear.”

  “These aren’t Victoria’s Secret. How gauche. They’re from La Perla. Much classier.” She loved this set. The bra made her breasts appear at least a cup size bigger.

  His voice was a low growl. “You’re playing dirty.”

  “No dirtier than you. You’re the one who’s half-naked.” She pulled the blankets up to her waist but left her breasts on display. Then she wondered if she’d gone too far. Because even if her intent had been payback, she was having a hard time resisting him.

  When their eyes met, it was all she could do not to throw herself at him and press her body against his. But a loud pounding on the door doused her lust.

  “Yo, Rafael,” a voice called out. “You up yet?”

  She recognized the speaker as Ernesto, whom she’d met at Araceli’s. Giving a squeak of terror, she dove under the covers and pulled them over her head.

  Rafael answered calmly. “Barely. It’s my day off. What d’you need?”

  “The maintenance guy called. He’s coming at ten to fix the dishwasher.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She waited under the covers, her heart skittering in fear. Had Rafael locked his bedroom door last night? If Ernesto opened it, she was screwed. For a terrifying moment, she worried he might extend the conversation further. When nothing happened, she let out her breath in a long, shaky exhale.

  Rafael lifted the blanket and grinned at her. “All clear. You can come out.”

  She made no attempt to move. “You think this is funny? What if he’d come in here?”

  “Then we’d have a lot of explaining to do.” He pushed back the covers and lay down next to her, so close their bodies were almost touching. “Ernesto wouldn’t believe we’d be lying here, half-naked, doing absolutely nothing.”

  The heat from his body acted like a drug, luring her in. She wanted to close the distance between them, pepper his skin with kisses, and make him groan with pleasure. A throbbing ache built up inside her.

  To hell with it.

  One time couldn’t hurt, could it?

  She rested her hand on his bare chest. “What if we weren’t doing nothing? What then?”

  “Then we’d be in deep trouble.”

  She inched closer and grazed her fingers against his pajama bottoms. Rock hard. Just as she suspected.

  He closed his hand around hers. “This is a terrible idea.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “But like you said, we’re lying here, half-naked, in your bed. It seems a shame to waste this opportunity.”

  He drew his thumb against the soft lace of her bra, rubbing her nipple until it hardened into a tight little bud. “You have to be very, very quiet.”

  She gasped at his touch. “I…I can be quiet.”

  “Really?” He lowered his head, his tongue teasing her nipple through the thin material. “Because I remember you being very loud in bed.”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, her body ablaze with longing. “You…liked it when I was loud.”

  “I loved it,” he murmured. As he continued sucking on her nipples, he smoothed his hand down her side, along the curve of her hips, slowly making his way between her thighs. “But you moaned so loud I worried they’d kick us out of your suite.”

  She bit her lip, hard, when his fingers delved beneath her panties and teased her with slow, deliberate circles. “I…couldn�
��t help it. You made me feel so good.”

  “Is that what you want now?”

  “Yessss.” Her words dissolved as he continued those circles, until her nerve endings were on fire. Even after five years apart, he knew exactly where to touch her.

  As he pushed her onto her back and spread her legs, she complied willingly, putting herself at his mercy. The pressure from his fingers, combined with the brush of his lips against her breasts, made the pleasure indescribable. She was helpless, reduced to putty, so close she could hardly stand it.

  “Please don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please.” She grabbed one of the throw pillows and covered her face, moaning into it as the orgasm rocked through her.

  For a moment, she lay still, her breath coming in ragged gasps. But instead of feeling spent and satisfied, she wanted more.

  Rafael pulled the pillow away and brushed sweaty wisps of hair from her forehead. “You look so cute when you’re flushed like that.”

  She didn’t even care he was teasing her. When he leaned down to kiss her, she pulled him closer, tangling her tongue with his, wanting to taste and devour and hold nothing back. He unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, then pressed his bare chest against hers. She ran her hands along his broad, muscular back, glorying in the feel of him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this kind of ravenous, wanton desire.

  He murmured her name as his lips trailed along the curve of her throat, her shoulders, her collarbones, lighting her skin on fire. When he ground against her, she tugged on his pajama bottoms, desperately wanting to remove them. She didn’t care about rules or propriety. She wanted him inside her, right the fuck now.

  But he pulled away and rolled over onto his back.

  If this was his attempt to behave like a gentleman, she wasn’t buying it. She placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “You don’t have to stop. I really want this.”

  He let out his breath. “I do, too.”

  “Then what’s the issue? I promise I’ll be quiet.” Even if she’d already had one orgasm, she was greedy as hell. Besides, he hadn’t gotten his turn. She wanted to feel him shudder as he came inside of her.