by Reina Torres
A moment of silence was broken by a spate of muttering from the growers and gained a voice as Stella turned to her father. "Keep them happy?" She shook her head and some of her thick curls escaped the elastic tie on her hair, falling forward in inky spirals. "It would serve him right to lose our business."
Mr. Vincenzo put his hand on his daughter's arm in a show of affection, but he answered her in his usual cautious tone. "And where would we go, Stell?"
"These last ten years," Marco Pedroni spat on the dirt by the door, "these growers have been moving in and there are more on the way." He nodded at the sounds of discontent in the group. "What happens then?"
Stella turned to Teodoro, her eyes flashing with anger. "Doesn't history count for anything?"
Teo mulled over Paul's words in his head. "It makes sense in a way." He felt a hand on his arm and knew it was his Nonna without even looking, she supported him no matter what.
"What?" Stella wasn't. "You can't tell me that you agree with him, Teodoro! Really?"
"From a business standpoint, his standpoint," he corrected, "he has to make the big growers happy. He needs the business." He turned and addressed the group, watching their expressions carefully. "Would any of us be able to ignore the demands of a client that made up the lion's share of our business?"
The few grumbles he heard were in agreement, but he saw the worry and strain in their eyes. They were all tired and eager to make things work.
"What Stella said has merit, too." A few of the older men looked at Stella standing beside her father as Teodoro continued. "You could go somewhere else."
"Now wait a minute, son." Mr. Pedroni moved up to Teo's shoulder. "Where would we go? Like Russell said, where else can we go in this area?" A couple of men agreed with him. "I'm not shipping my olives out, the cost would kill my profit."
Teo held his hands up asking for patience. "I never said that." The men gathered closer to listen, they had been doing business the same way for years and change was hard. Tradition was strong in St. Helena and Teo didn't want it any other way. "What I'd like from you folks is to let me take a few days and draft up an idea." He felt the reassuring pressure of Nonna’s hand on his.
Lifting his arm, Teo settled it around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. She tucked herself into his side and nodded. "I think we can give you that time, Teodoro."
"I know that I'm interested to hear what you have to say, son." Mr. Vincenzo directed his gaze to the other men, giving them his vote of confidence. "Anything is better than standing out in the cold waiting for our turn." He held his hand out to his daughter and she walked with him to the door. Mr. Vincenzo held it open for Stella and gave the group a nod before he disappeared inside to walk his olives through the milling process.
One by one, the growers all gave Teodoro their vote of confidence. The success of Sunset Brew in Los Angeles was proof that the Santini brothers had the ability to run a highly successful business. They could only hope that he'd find a way to translate that to success in St. Helena. Teo had always been a part of the farming community here, but he was stepping into shoes that had been worn by his grandfather Sandro. He only hoped that he was worthy of the responsibility.
Chapter Ten
When Jonah pulled into the driveway of the little Victorian home, Teo slid out of the SUV before it was in park. “Hey!” Jonah wrestled the key from the ignition and threw open his door. “Where are you going?”
Teo, already at the door, turned back to look at the Sheriff. “In.”
Jogging up the steps, Jonah shook his head at his friend. “You have a key?”
The question was unexpected and apt, leaving Teo staring back with a helpless look on his face. “No, and she's probably sleeping.”
“Now he gets it.” Jonah, phone in hand, hit speed-dial. A moment later the call connected. “Shay, honey? We're here.”
The door opened mere seconds later. The house lights were off, but when Shay saw her husband, her smile lit up the entry. “Who’s we?” She turned and saw Teo beside Jonah. “Awww.”
The two men gave each other helpless looks in the face of her feminine sigh before Jonah added his two cents.
“I went by the mill to check on things near the end of my shift and Velia asked me to bring him by since she knew you were here.”
Teo explained the rest. “Nonna stayed there with some of the others and Mr. Vincenzo will see her home when they're done.”
Shay stepped back and let them enter. When she closed the door she rose up on her toes and rewarded her husband a kiss, mumbling against his lips. “I love you.”
Even in his uniform and gear, Jonah softened with his wife in his arms. “Love you too, babe.”
Teo continued down the hall, following the soft halo of light outside an open door. He called to Emerson, barely more than a whisper. “How is she?”
Emerson stood up from her bedside chair, stretching her back. “Good, good.” She pointed to the stack of papers on the bedside table. “The discharge papers are there, but she's okay. A little bit of a headache that she has meds for, but that's all. I'll stay with her tonight.”
“I'll be here.”
“You're going to come back in the morning?”
“No.” He moved into the room and picked up the papers as he settled onto the settee. “I'm staying here.”
Emerson looked at Teodoro, considering his words. “She'll probably sleep through the night.”
"Okay," he continued reading.
Emerson looked over at the door and saw Shay and Jonah in the hall. Jonah waved her over. “If it was Shay, I'd stay.” He gave his old friend a wave. “Call if you need anything. We'll take Emerson home on our way.”
Teo grabbed a pillow and put it on the arm of the settee. “Thanks, man.”
"Get some rest." Jonah slid his arm around his wife. "We’ll stop over in the morning.”
Teodoro knew when she woke up. He could hear the change in her breathing. The room was almost dark, with only a soft cast of light from her lamp. “Emi?” Mira turned on her side and blinked into the darkness. “You here?”
“It’s just me, honey. Jonah took your friends home.”
Her eyes widened as she sat up, wedging an arm under her body to look at him. “When?”
Teo reached over and touched the screen of his phone to read the numbers. “A couple hours ago.”
“Why are you-” she couldn't stifle the yawn that stopped her in mid-question.
“I'm here because I care about you, Mirella. I’m here because there isn’t anywhere else in the world that I want to be than here with you.” He leaned closer, and gave her a lazy smile. “I know things are a little confusing for both of us, but when you decide you’re ready for more, I'll be here.”
She sighed and settled back into her pillow. “I might have to charge you rent,” she yawned again, her back arching in a languid stretch, “it won't be cheap.”
“Nothing worth having ever is, Mira.” Teo laughed and sat back against the settee with a soft groan.
Her eyes fluttered open and met his gaze through the shadows. “What's wrong?”
Teo fluffed the pillow and tried to stretch out on half-sized piece of furniture. “Just need to find a way to stretch out-”
“I have a guest room.” She mumbled and he tensed.
“I'm staying here tonight to watch over you. I can't do that from another room.”
Her answering sigh was almost a hum. “Hmm-'kay.”
He turned slightly and felt the wooden chair arm dig into his thigh. It was going to be a long night.
“Teo?”
"You need something, honey?”
He heard a rustle of fabric before she spoke. “Come and lie down. There's enough room.”
It wasn't bad enough being cramped on the settee for the night, spending the rest of the night in bed with Mira would be its own kind of torture. To be so close, but unable to hold her would be a true test of his resolve.
“Teo?” He heard a soun
d from the bed, and suddenly he needed to adjust the snug fit of his pants. Half sigh, half moan, it was all kinds of sexy.
“I’m pretty sure that I’d end up rolling and crushing you.”
She moved closer and he could finally see her face and soft lines of pain that had been hidden by the shadows. Mira held out her hand to him, and he was lost.
He managed to unfold himself from the antique lounger and tucked her in with a soft kiss on her lips. "I'll stay with you," he explained, "but I'll camp out on top of the blankets. Trust me, it’s better this way.” Laughing at himself he lay down on the covers. Once he heard the soft and easy sounds of sleep from her side of the bed, he let himself follow her.
Mira woke up wondering if she'd left the heater on. Unlike the cool fall air, her hands were deliciously warm and so was her cheek. She wasn't complaining about the feeling, not when it felt so good. She snuggled closer to the warmth.
She stopped short when she heard a groan.
Opening her eyes, she blew out a breath that sounded like a soft whistle of appreciation. Somehow, a very shirtless, very sexy, Teodoro Santini had ended up in her bed.
Mira squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, just to make sure. Yes, thank you dear heavens above, in her bed and close enough to touch.
Teo drew in a long breath and then let it go. All she could do was stare at his insanely attractive face and the muscled expanse of his chest under her hands. He wasn't built like a weightlifter, or even one of those guys in the "Magic-whatever" movies, but that wasn't something she looked for in a man. Teodoro’s frame was long and athletic and it was obvious that he was no stranger to physical labor. Since she met him, standing on her doorstep, she'd tried to get him to keep his distance, but he’d made it impossible for her to hold onto her resolve. And now, this close to his glorious, barely clothed body, she was glad she’d decided to open up her heart and take a chance.
She turned her hand slightly, drawing her nails down to his hip.
He mumbled a sound that sounded suspiciously like her name.
“Teo?” She flattened her palm against his waist, her fingers curling around his hip.
“Yeah,” he tensed but he didn't move.
“When did you take off your shirt?”
He drew in a breath as her fingers dipped lower, slipping under the waistband of his boxers. “I don't remember.”
“Hmm, why not?” She turned her head, her lips brushing along his collarbone.
There was no mistaking his physical reaction to her touch. Even though he was still laid out on the blankets she could feel the ridge of his erection through the fabric and when she tugged him closer she felt it twitch.
“Mira, stop.” His arm, tucked under her pillow, flexed as he fisted the sheet in his hand.
She pulled away, her hand releasing its hold on the waistband of his boxers and came to a rest again on his waist. Her eyes met his with a glimmer of a smile. “What's wrong?”
He groaned, but he didn't move away. “When was the last time you took a pain pill?”
She shook her head. “I don't have a headache.”
“That's why I'm asking,” he grimaced as her fingers grazed the bare flesh from his waist and slid beneath his waistband again. “You need to stop that.”
“Stop what, touching you?” Mira held her hand still, and met his eyes.
“Touching me, yes.” Teo’s breath hissed from his lips. “That would help.”
She could swear his eyes were telling her another story.
“Help?” She looked up at him. “I was going to help get these off.”
He felt a groan pass his lips, but he couldn't hear it with the blood rushing through his ears. “Wait, Mira, wait.” He was mentally kicking himself for saying it, even as he used his free hand to hold her wrist. He needed to think clearly, to talk her down from a decision she might just regret.
“I'm not going to regret this,” she grumbled as she used her legs to kick down the covers separating them. His expression said that was exactly what he was thinking.
“You need to be sure-”
“Oh my god, you're going to be one those too-good-to-be-true guys, aren't you?” She managed to work her wrist free and reached around the back of his head to pull him closer, “I'm absolutely sure, but just so you know-” She pulled him closer and slanted her mouth over his.
The kisses they'd shared on her porch swing had nothing on this moment. They gave her a taste of heat and tempted her to explore this connection between them, but this kiss was hungry. Their next kiss was a blatant invitation.
He sank into the heady sensations that burned between them, but still he struggled to pull away, cupping her cheeks in his hands to gain her attention. He managed to still their kiss, drawing back enough to look into her eyes. “Mirella, don't play with me.”
He could see the shifting color in her eyes, as teasing humor turned to serious intent.
“Okay,” she slipped her fingers free of his hair and drew her hand down his chest toward his abs, her fingertips skimming his taut flesh. His breath hissed free of his lips as she turned her hand and slid her fingers beneath his waistband. It was only a heartbeat before her delicate fingers wrapped around his length.
“I’m not playing.”
He looked at her, his jaw clenched tight and his muscles trembling. She smiled and he gave in.
His free hand lowered, the backs of his fingers meeting her shoulder and tracing the thin strap of her camisole, down and over the swell of her breast.
Her hand stilled on him. When he turned his hand, brushing a knuckle over the crest, he felt her nipple harden beneath the fragile fabric as she caught her breath, closing her eyes. The subtle movement only increased friction and her hand tightened.
He tensed and she mumbled an apology, opening her eyes. The hunger he saw in her dark eyes took his breath away. It wasn't just lust, he'd seen enough of that before, this went far beyond.
“Teo?”
He found a way to answer her around the thick knot in his throat. “Yes?”
She withdrew her nimble hand and he bit off a protest. She rewarded him a moment later when she rose up, onto her knees, pushing him onto his back. “I take it all back.”
“Take what-”
She straddled his hips, rocking against him, robbing him of his words.
“Oh,” she splayed her hands against his bare chest, repeating the sinuous movement, “that feels good.”
He agreed with her, but he couldn't speak beyond a breathless parroting of her earlier words. “Take what back?” He bit his lower lip, struggling for control. Dressed only in her white camisole and matching panties, she leaned over and the wavy lengths of her dark hair spilled forward over her shoulders. It was all he could do to keep his hands off of her, grabbing handfuls of her sheets.
“I want…”
Teo watched her, mentally begging her to continue, but all he could do was breathe as her heat settled against his.
“I want not to be afraid of whatever this is between us.” She leaned forward a bit, pressing tighter against him. “I want to look forward to my life and the people in it.”
He heard the earnestness in her voice, and nodded.
“And, Teo?”
Mira leaned forward and he felt a tremor roll through his body. “Yes?”
He heard the rough scratch of his voice, and she smiled, a shy expression that managed to be sweet instead of coy. “I want you. Here... now.” She swallowed, and he mirrored the gesture unable to do more than wait for what was surely a ‘but.’
Mira licked her lips. “But, I don't have- I mean, do you have…”
He nearly passed out with relief as blood rushed back into his brain. “Yeah,” his hands lifted from the bedding and settled on her thighs, caressing her warm skin. “In my wallet, on the nightstand.”
He started to turn and reach for it, but she stopped him with a laugh. “Let me.”
And he did. He felt her crawl higher over him, her h
ips almost on his stomach, her breasts lowering toward his face.
He took in a steadying breath and smelled her skin, powdery fresh with a hint of flowers. Just a breath had him hardening even more, his fingers digging into her thighs.
He felt her shift, brace herself on the table with one hand, as her other hand found what she was looking for.
“Got it.”
She slid down his body, but stopped short when his hands left her thighs and reached up to her shoulders.
Mira looked down into his eyes and felt her body flush with heat. When his fingers found the spaghetti straps of her camisole, she held her breath as her thighs clenched around his hips. She finally remembered to breathe, but only in short, shallow breaths as he slid the straps down her arms, stopping midway to her elbows, stretching the buttery-soft cotton over her breasts. Her finger traced the edge of the condom wrapper, waiting to see what he'd do next.
She didn't have to wait long.
Tracing his fingers back along the spaghetti straps, his fingertips slipped smoothly over her skin, along the rise of her breasts. With a soft exhale he drew the camisole down. The soft stretch of the fabric slipped beneath her breasts, giving them a subtle lift and bounce that held his gaze.
Beneath her hips, his hard-on swelled, twitching between her thighs.
She felt a rush of heat in her body and she sank down against him, a moan falling from her lips.
“Yes, exactly,” shifting his weight, he got one elbow under him and his free hand spayed on her back, drawing her closer.
She felt his breath before she felt his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the curve of her breast. She mumbled something under her breath that had his eyes glittering in the shadows.
“If you insist.” He turned his face to rub his cheek along the outside swell of her breast. Mira felt her skin flush a rosy red as her body tightened in a number of delicious ways. A heartbeat after she decided the feeling of his early morning stubble against her skin was the most amazing thing she'd ever experienced, he turned again and dragged his lower lip across her nipple.
