“Okay, I’ll see you later,” she smiles conspiratorially.
After thinking about his kisses earlier, I don’t want to wait until tomorrow evening. I want to see him now.
I buzz as I drive to his house, music blaring from the speakers. I can’t hide my grin as I pull up the driveway, noticing the lights are on inside. I’m quiet as I step up on his dream-worthy porch and knock.
When the door opens, I gape at the shirtless man in front of me. With low-hung shorts, his abs are on full display for me to ogle. A sexy smirk frames his full lips.
“Well, if it isn’t my special delivery.”
I meet his eyes, bright green joy, and my heart skips a beat at his reaction to seeing me. He pulls me to him, smashing his lips to mine in an all-consuming kiss that almost makes me forget why I came.
Dizzy from the feel of his lips, I lean on his chest and say, “I wanted to show you the car.” I shrug as if it were no big deal, but we both know that me showing up here on a whim is bigger than I’d like to admit. Up until now, I’ve been waiting for Miles to make the moves.
“Show me,” he slips on a pair of sneakers sitting by the door and holds my hand.
He looks around, opening the doors, the trunk, lifting the hood to inspect the engine.
“Nice,” he nods once he’s decided his inspection is complete. “It suits you,” he smiles.
“It does, right? It’s easy to drive, too.”
“I’m happy for you.” His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me to him. He bows his head, looking into my eyes under the starry night. His lips brush mine once…two times, and then he whispers against them, “Come inside.”
I nod and follow him, not ready to leave him yet. Miles leads me to his couch. Before I can sit, he tugs my waist so that I land on his lap. I laugh, shaking my head, and tilt my head to look at him.
“I hate not being able to touch you while we’re at work. We’re going to need a secret meeting place,” he teases.
Although people in town know we’re dating after the gossip started spreading, I still want to keep a professional relationship at work. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression.
“It’s good to practice self-control. Besides, I like seeing you suffer a bit,” I lift a brow, teasing him.
“You would,” he chuckles, kissing me softly. “But it’s tempting to pull you into a dark corner or hide in between the vineyards and steal a kiss or two.”
“We both know you won’t stop at that.” I run my hands up his chest, the smattering of light red chest hair tickling my palms.
“I can’t help it that I want you.” His lips skim my jaw. “So damn much,” he whispers against my ear before taking my lobe between his teeth.
My head falls back on a moan. “I didn’t come here for that,” I argue.
“I know you didn’t.” His voice is serious, his head moving back and his hand forcing me to look at him. “You aren’t a booty call. You’re my girlfriend.”
My eyes widen, and I’m sure I’m gaping at him like a fish out of water.
“Uhhh… Okay.” I nod. We’ve been dating exclusively, but I wasn’t sure if we were ready to put a label on it yet.
“Don’t look at me like that. What did you think you were? Some girl I went to dinner with? Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “You’re the woman I spend my time with, fantasize about,” he thrusts his hips to punctuate his words, “and the person I think about first thing in the morning and before I go to bed.”
My heart beats double time, my insides melting into a puddle of goo. “Have you been reading romance novels?” I grin.
“Nope, I’m a real-life book boyfriend.”
At this, I toss my head back and let out a cackle.
“What? Did I say that wrong? Isn’t that what they’re called?” His eyes are wide as they look between mine.
I nod, trying to control my laughter. Wiping the corners of my eyes, I say, “Yeah, it just surprised me. I’ve never heard a guy use that term before.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m your first.” His eyes darken.
I frame his face with my hands and get closer. His hands skim my body, up and down in slow strokes.
“I’m glad, too. Not every guy can pull off saying book boyfriend and still look sexy. It could be cheesy, but you…” I dip my head, looking up at him through my lashes. “You look good saying it.” I touch my lips to his. “Sexy.” Another kiss. “You make me believe that a real-life book boyfriend could exist.”
Before my lips land on his again, he grips the back of my head, and our lips crash. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience and floating above us, looking at how the two of us come together in harmony, witnessing how right we are for each other when it doesn’t seem that way on paper.
I let Miles show me how he fits the bill, how his words and touches are better than fictional ones, and I get lost in all that’s us.
Chapter 22
Miles
I’m holding June’s hand across the table after we finish lunch. I snuck away for a lunch date since she’s off today, and I didn’t want to wait to see her. Each day I have less and less patience to wait until we can be together. If I didn’t see her at the winery three out of the five days I’m there, it’d be less tempting to steal her away, but every time I see her, I want to wrap my arms around her and kiss her.
“What are you going to do this afternoon?” I ask her.
“I’m going to go home and read while I do laundry.” She looks at our hands, turning hers over and twisting our fingers together. These last few weeks together have been amazing.
“Just remember that I’m better than any character you could fall for,” I wink.
The way she laughed when I told her I was a real-life book boyfriend last week is engrained in my memory. She was carefree and open.
June is slowly being less careful around me, and it makes me damn proud that I’m the man opening her up. Just the fact that she decided on her own to come show me the car made me happy.
She squeezes my fingers. “I know,” she whispers.
I think I like it best when she’s coy. It gives me a different side of her that she doesn’t show everyone—a part of her that is just mine.
We’re staring at each other when an obnoxious voice interrupts the moment, angering me. I clench my jaw when I hear Kayla say, “Really, Miles? You won’t go out with me, but you’re wastin’ time with Junebug.” The way she says her nickname makes my body pulse with rage.
I remember June telling me how she hated that name, how she knew it was a way for people to make fun of her and call her a bug. To me, she’s my Junebug—the beautiful woman I’m lucky to have in my life.
I glare at Kayla with disgust, my anger amplifying. “Back off, Kayla. I’m not wasting my time. I’m valuing it by spending it with the people I like. I don’t know what the fuck your deal is.” I look at June, and when I see her head bowed, my frustration only grows.
I squeeze her fingers and say, “Let’s go.” Tugging her, I guide her out of the diner and away from Kayla.
“Ignore her. She’s a bitch,” I don’t hide my true feelings. “She’s got this fantasy in her mind that she was going to marry me or some shit because our families both have money. She just wants the status.” I’m rambling, but June won’t react.
“Say somethin’, damn it.” I stop her on the sidewalk by a corner. I lift her chin, so her eyes are on me, and she can see my sincerity.
“I hate her,” is all she says, shaking her head.
“She’s no one.”
“Maybe not to you, but to me, she’s the one that made my life miserable. She’s the one that told everyone I was so worthless my father didn’t care to know me.” June’s eyes water and I can’t stand it. I embrace her, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head.
It kills me to see her like this. She doesn’t deserve this shit.
“Look at me,” I demand. Her tear-soaked eyes find mine. “You’re all I want
. All I need.” I press into her. “You’re so fucking amazing, and I can’t get enough of you. Not just your body but your mind and your heart.” I kiss her hard, making a statement. I don’t give a shit that people could see us.
When she’s breathless, I inch my head back and stare at her. “Do you get me?”
She nods, still missing the smile she had earlier.
“Don’t you think the fact that I work for you is an issue? That my mom has worked for your family for half her life? How can we make it work?”
I shake my head. “Stop. We’ll figure it out.”
If things progressed between June and me the way I could see them happening, it would be weird for her mom to be my parents’ housekeeper. It makes the family dynamic a little messy, but there has to be a solution. What I know for sure is that I don’t want to give up what I have with June over this.
“You look at everything as a possibility, but we come from two different worlds, Miles.”
“So you keep reminding me.” I fist my hands by my side.
“Because one of us has to be a realist in this relationship.”
“Realist or pessimist? Seems to me you keep finding excuses for this not to work. If you don’t wanna be with me, June, just tell me. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Or is this revenge because you’re still holding a grudge about high school?”
“Fuck you,” she says slowly, seething, and I know I’ve fucked up. I step back, tugging my hair.
“June… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Like hell, you didn’t. If this is what you think, then it’s best we leave things as they are.” She sidesteps me, but I reach for her.
With my hand around her arm, I look into her eyes and plead, “Don’t go like this. Let’s talk this out. I swear, I didn’t mean it like that.”
June yanks her arm away and shakes her head. “You should know by now this isn’t some stupid vengeance.”
She walks away, leaving me drowning in a sea of regret. I punch the brick wall in front of me and walk to my car, ignoring the trickles of blood dripping from my knuckles.
As the day progresses, I can’t get my argument with June out of my head. I’ve called and sent her text messages all afternoon, but all I’ve gotten in return is radio silence. The rest of the day has been a waste. I much rather be with her, apologizing until she looks at me with the same joy she did before Kayla interrupted our lunch.
I leave work late, needing something to distract me, although the attempt was futile. Whether I sit at my office or in my house, my mind is preoccupied with June and the shit I said to her out of anger. Once I’m home, I call again only to get her voicemail. I leave a message, begging her to call me and telling her how sorry I am before grabbing a beer from the fridge and dropping down on the couch. The same damn couch where I had her last, straddling me as she took all of me.
My head drops in my hands. This feeling of helplessness is new to me, and I don’t know how to handle it. Showing up at her house won’t be the best idea, and I still have another day until I see her at work. I went and fucked up. June doesn’t deserve that, and I’ve failed her after telling her over and over that she was worthy of whatever she wanted.
I chug my beer and check the fridge for something to eat. Thankfully, I find leftovers and heat them up in the microwave before heading back to the couch and watching some old movie from the nineties. I’m not even in the mood to cook tonight.
I’ve been torturing myself all night. All I did was toss and turn until my alarm clock went off, obsessively checking if June would magically respond to me. Of course she didn’t. I wouldn’t want to talk to myself either.
It’s true that June is stuck on the idea that she and I can’t work, but the way I took my anger out on her wasn’t right. I’m trying to prove to her how good we are, and then I go and say what I did.
I stop for coffee on the way to work, looking around The Grind in case June is there, but I leave disappointed. When I get to work, Charlie and Chloe charge at me, screaming my name. I smile, bending to catch them. Thank God these two angels don’t hate me.
“Uncle Miles, you lied to me.” Never mind that.
I look at Charlie with raised eyebrows. “And how did I do that?”
“You told me Ms. Sully’s daughter wasn’t your girlfriend, and she is.” Charlie pouts, arms crossed over her chest.
I smile and lift her up, Chloe looking between us with furrowed eyebrows.
“When I told you that, she wasn’t my girlfriend.” I kiss Charlie’s cheek.
“And she is now?”
“Eh, she was, but I scr–messed up yesterday, and she’s mad at me.” I shrug, frowning.
“Did you hurt her feelings?” Chloe asks, looking up at me. I bend and pick her up, too.
“I did.”
“Well, say you’re sorry. That’s what my teacher says we have to do when we’re mean to someone,” Charlie reasons with me.
“I did, but what I said wasn’t nice, and she hasn’t forgiven me yet.”
“It’s okay,” Chloe leans her head on my shoulder. “We still love you.”
I smile genuinely for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, thanks to these girls, and carry them over to the lounge so I can make myself another coffee and give them some orange juice. Charlie and Chloe tell me all about their summer camp while I prepare our drinks.
“Yeah, why aren’t you at summer camp today?” I question them.
“We wanted to spend the day here. Daddy said it was okay since he’s been workin’ too much,” Charlie explains.
“Yeah,” Chloe nods. “He also told us he was gon’ get us ice cream.”
I laugh. “Did you girls guilt-trip him?”
“What’s that mean?” Chloe scrunches up her button nose.
“When you make someone feel bad for not spending time with you,” I explain the best I can.
Charlie’s eyes widen, and she frowns. “We kinda did, didn’t we, Chlo?” Chloe nods.
“You girls know your dad works hard so he can take care of you and give you everything you need and want, right?”
“Yeah, but we miss him.” Charlie’s eyes water. “And Mommy’s not here anymore.”
My heart breaks, and I wrap my arm around her in a tight hug. “I know, sweetheart, but you’ve got all of us.” It’s not the same, but it’s what I can offer her.
Charlie was four when Brett’s wife passed away, so she has a vague memory of her. Chloe doesn’t remember her at all since she was just a toddler.
“Okay,” I clap my hands. “How about I give you some juice, you help me come up with a way to apologize to June, and then we’ll convince your dad to take you for ice cream earlier than planned?”
“Yes!” They jump up and down, and I’m grateful for the sudden change in mood children have. If only June could switch like that.
I’m in my office with Charlie and Chloe checking emails while they throw out ideas for my apology. Chloe said to draw her a rainbow, but that alone won’t do. Charlie mentioned a card, but I need more.
“June likes to read, right?” I nod at Charlie’s question, skimming the contents in an email. The chef sent me a current inventory of the food at the restaurant.
“I know!” Charlie’s screech startles me, and I find a huge grin on her face. “Write her a book!”
I lift my brows, her words slowly seeping into my mind. “I don’t know how to write a book, let alone have the time.” I shake my head.
“Yeah, you do. Chloe and I can draw the pictures, and you write the words.” I sit back and process her idea. It doesn’t have to be a novel. A book, like a children’s book, but for adults.
“You might be onto something there,” I point at her and nod.
“Yay! We can draw.” She stands and grabs paper from my printer, giving some to Chloe. I hand them the crayons I keep in a drawer for when they come to the winery.
They get to work, and I begin to draft my story about how a prince needs his prin
cess in order to live a happy life. It could work, or she could laugh in my face, say she isn’t a princess, and throw the book at me. No, I refuse to think June will never give me another chance.
Chapter 23
June
I’ve been dreading going to work today. So much so that I’m almost late when I enter the tasting room in a rush. This is why people shouldn’t get involved with co-workers, or worst, bosses. I’m “people” in this case.
I knew it’d be complicated dating Miles when I work for him and his family. I’ve avoided his calls and messages, but I know that it won’t be as easy to ignore him physically. Knowing Miles, he’ll make it a point to see me alone today. He’s a persistent ass. An ass I like a lot. However, Kayla’s reaction to seeing us together and Miles’s hurtful words have made me coil into myself.
I drop my purse off in the small room for employees and get to work helping Carla prepare for the tours we have today. It’s started getting busier this month, with more tourists coming through town, which helps to make the time pass by faster.
As I’m getting ready for a tour, I see Miles out of the corner of my eye. Thankful that I’m busy with customers, I lead them through the cellar and leave him behind. My heart pounds double-time, but I’m still hurt over what he said. If any part of him, no matter how small, thinks that me being with him is out of revenge, then we’ll never work. As it is, some days, I have a hard time figuring out how we will move beyond the bubble we’re living in.
Will I go over to his parents’ house for dinner, and my mom will be there after working for them? Will I eat the food she makes when it’s not at home for us as a family? I’m not sure how any of that will work. Will she have to stop working for them because employing family is messy?
I take a deep breath and focus on the tour, needing to be fully present so I can give them the best experience. After all, tips are always nice and helpful.
When it’s time for lunch, I welcome the quiet and grab my bag. I tilt my head when I see something on top of my lunch bag. I grab the stapled papers with what looks like a little kid’s drawing on it, my name written messily.
Not So Charming: A Hate to Lovers Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 1) Page 15
