Her mouth was dry all over again. “This entire conversation is—”
“Necessary?”
“—inappropriate.”
“I’ll keep it between the two of us, if you will.”
She felt like her entire body was buzzing. “Grayson—”
“Is that your phone?”
“What?” Feeling stupid, she looked toward her purse sitting only inches away from her. From inside came a distinct vibrating buzz. She plunged her hand inside and grabbed the cell, silencing it even before she pulled it out to see the screen. Max.
She dropped the phone back into her purse like the hot potato it had become.
“Tell you what. You think about the shoes while we have dinner.”
She looked at the wine and the package of cookies.
“While we go out and have dinner. There’s a new place I’ve been hearing about and I’m starving.”
So was she, but quite probably not in the way he meant. “A business dinner.” The emphasis was as much for herself as for him.
His gaze roved over her face again. “Sure.” There wasn’t an ounce of conviction in his response.
God help her. She had no willpower whatsoever.
She jabbed the tip of her finger against his chest. “I mean it, Grayson. I’m going to—” She realized her finger was still pushing against him and quickly pulled her hand away. “I’m going to find some new listings to show you. And we’ll review the ones you’ve already seen. Just in case.”
Now, he looked amused. “Whatever makes you sleep at night, darlin’.”
If she could sleep at night without dreaming about him, she would be a whole lot better off. She was weak-willed where he was concerned, clearly, but she wasn’t so far out of her mind to admit that. “Fine.” She started to walk away, only she still had one yellow shoe on and one off. She quickly shoved her toes back into the shoe, where they throbbed and cried a little at the discomfort, particularly now that they’d brushed so briefly against Louboutin heaven. “I’m going to change,” she told him.
He held up the tan box. “Don’t forget these.”
She gave him a look and marched into her bedroom, closing the door.
The bed, made neatly that morning like she did every morning, seemed to stare back at her.
A shiver danced down her spine. Glancing back at the door, she let out a deep breath, giving her bed a stern look as she walked around it and into her closet. She changed out of the blouse and skirt she’d worn all day for work and pulled on a pair of black jeans and a silky purple blouse. She traded the neon-yellow pumps for a more comfortable pair of high wedges and went into the bathroom.
There was too much color in her cheeks, but since nature seemed determined to put it there whenever she was around Grayson there wasn’t much she could do about it. She brushed her teeth and brushed her hair. Smoothed on some lip gloss, then tucked her hair behind her ear.
Her fingers froze as she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt Grayson’s fingers slipping behind her ear all over again...
And something inside her belly dipped and swayed.
She grabbed the brush again and quickly worked her hair back into a high ponytail, where she could be certain there’d be no need for tucking stray strands behind any ears.
“Business, Belinda Marie. Just because flirting is as natural as breathing to him, this is just business. Remember that.”
Her reflection nodded back at her and she went out to brave the evening.
All too soon, her intentions went awry. In fact, they didn’t even make it out of her parking garage before Billie knew she was swimming in waters too deep for someone who didn’t even swim.
Grayson stood beside her car with his hand outstretched.
“You want my keys?” she asked him.
“Yes. I want your keys.”
“But nobody drives my car but me.”
“One day I’ll let you ride Vix. Nobody rides him but me. For tonight, though, I want to arrive someplace with you without me sprouting more gray hairs.”
She immediately looked at his thick hair. It was a little overlong. And not a single gray that she could see.
He hadn’t lowered his hand. “Please?”
It was okay to be accommodating for an important client, she reminded herself. Just not too accommodating.
She dropped the keys in his palm. His fingers closed over them, catching her fingers, as well.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Still holding her hand, he opened the passenger door for her and didn’t release her until she’d slid down into the seat.
The only times she’d sat in the passenger seat of her own car was when she took it to the self-serve car wash and was cleaning out the inside.
He rounded the vehicle and reached down to adjust the power seat before he even tried to sit behind the wheel. When he was in, he adjusted it even more. He fastened his seat belt and started the engine. “Seat belt, Billie.”
She shook herself. What was so fascinating about him driving her vehicle? She fastened her own belt and looked through the side window as he drove out of the parking garage.
He cast a sidelong look at her. “You’re too young to be such a control freak.”
“You try being the baby of a controlling family for a while and see how you turn out.”
“What’s controlling about your family?”
Her gaze drifted back toward his hand on her steering wheel. “What isn’t? I didn’t even choose my own college degree.”
“You didn’t want an economics degree? What would you have chosen instead?”
She crossed her legs against the imagined feel of his fingers drifting up the back of her calf. “It was never an option so I don’t even know.”
“But you did choose to go into real estate.”
Right. That had definitely been her own choice. She reached behind the seat and retrieved her phone from her purse and pulled up her Austin Elite app.
“Calling someone?” he asked her.
“Checking for the new listings this week. We can go over them during dinner. What’s the name of the place you’ve been wanting to try?”
“La Viña. It’s the restaurant at Mendoza Winery. Been there?”
“Just once. I went to a wedding there not too long ago. The sister of a friend of mine invited me.” That was one way to describe Schuyler Fortunado’s joyful “the more the merrier” inclusion of everyone working at her father’s real estate office, which Maddie now headed. Billie had gone to the wedding only because there hadn’t been any tactful way to get out of it.
“Good food?”
“Good food. Good wine.” Billie didn’t want to think about the wedding bouquet that she’d unintentionally caught when Schuyler’s flowers separated midair. Maddie had caught the other part and at the time had said it was a sign. A fact that Billie promptly dismissed where she was concerned. As for Maddie, it had been obvious even then that she and Zach were already head over heels for each other. No magic wedding flowers involved at all.
“The winery is a pretty setting.” She was glad her outfit wasn’t any more casual than it was, though. “And the restaurant’s a popular one. I’m not sure we’ll get in without reservations.”
She caught his grin.
“Oh. Right. I imagine that’s not a detail you have to worry about too often.”
He chuckled softly and the sound of it flowed over her like warm honey.
She looked out the window again. Definitely, the waters were way, way too deep.
Predictably, when they arrived at the crowded restaurant, the maître d’ did a double take when Grayson—after tugging Billie past the people already waiting to be seated—stopped in front of him. He obviously recognized Grayson, though, because he immediately showed them to a cozy table near one of the tall windows reaching from floor to ceiling. “It’s a pleasure having you dining with us, sir. My son was one of the participants at the riding clinic you held last year. He still talks abo
ut it.”
“What’s your son’s name?”
“Carmelo.”
Grayson grinned, nodding. “I remember Carmelo. He was fearless once he got on a horse. Tell him I hope he comes back next year. We’re expanding the clinic to include high schoolers and he’d be that age now, right?”
“Yes.” The maître d’ beamed as he opened the heavy menus and placed them in Billie’s and Grayson’s hands. “Your waiter tonight will be Alfonse, but please let me know if there is anything I can do to make your evening even more perfect.”
“It’s mighty perfect already,” Grayson drawled, giving Billie a sideways look that made her want to squirm in her seat. “But I appreciate it.”
Instead of squirming, she looked around the candlelit tables surrounding them. Even when it wasn’t being used as a wedding reception site, the restaurant was unabashedly romantic.
The press of Grayson’s thigh alongside hers wasn’t helping any. She stared blindly at the menu and tried to focus, and when Alfonse appeared a short while later, she gladly agreed to his suggestion that they ignore the menu altogether and instead enjoy the chef’s “special selections.”
The waiter moved away again and Billie looked at Grayson. Despite the crowded restaurant, their table still had the feeling of intimacy. “I suppose this happens a lot for you.”
“Getting into restaurants without a reservation?”
“That. And the chef’s special attention.”
She looked up when the maître d’ appeared again, this time to introduce them to the sommelier, who proceeded to present them with one of Mendoza Winery’s finest. “With our compliments, of course.”
With flair, the wine was poured, and once again Billie and Grayson were left alone.
He lifted the long-stemmed wineglass and tilted it toward Billie. “Yeah, and sometimes I’d just like to take out a beautiful woman and be left alone. To peace and quiet and, hopefully, a good steak.”
Afraid she’d break the delicate stem of her own glass because her fingers were so shaky, she lifted it toward him in return. “You do know that I’m vegetarian, right?”
Even in the candlelight, he looked surprised. And consternated.
She grinned and sipped the wine, which bloomed against her taste buds as promised. She leaned forward, conspiratorially. “I’m kidding. I’m strictly a ‘give me steak or give me death’ kind of girl.”
He chuckled. “I like to think I’m a live-and-let-live sort of guy, but between the chai tea and no steak, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was relieved.”
“Can’t have a real estate agent whose palate differs from yours?”
He waited a beat while his eyes captured hers. “Sure.”
She stiffened her back against the shiver sliding down it. Sliding into Grayson’s appeal would be oh, so easy. And oh, so pleasurable. Until he got bored and moved on. “I didn’t know you did riding clinics. Grooming the next crop of rodeo riders?”
“Not quite. We set up the clinics through Grayson Good for kids dealing with various challenges. Physical. Emotional. Financial. Any kind of background. Program’s doubled in the last year.”
“Here in Austin?”
“All over. About half the towns where I’m rodeoing. I don’t even have to twist too many arms anymore to get some of the other guys and gals competing to come on out and help.” He smiled wryly. “When we started out five years ago, though, it was a little harder.”
“How many kids do you end up with?”
“Depends. It’s elementary-school age through junior high kids, but we kept having to turn away kids once they got too old, so I found another sponsor to kick in so we could go through high schoolers. I suppose we average about fifty to sixty kids at each deal.”
She did a little math in her head. “And you remember Carmelo?”
“Might have been harder if he’d been named Jacob. You know how many thirteen-year-old boys are named Jacob?” His lips tilted up as he shook his head.
“Nathan? Is that—Oh.” A strikingly beautiful blonde stopped next to their table and propped her hand on a hip that was lovingly outlined by a bandage of a red dress. “You’re not Nathan,” she said to Grayson, “but you’re definitely Billie. Pemberton, if I remember correctly.” Schuyler Fortunado Mendoza’s vivid gaze bounced from Billie’s face to Grayson’s and back again. “How the heck are you, sweetie?”
Still bemused as she was by what Grayson had told her, it took a minute before Billie remembered that Schuyler hadn’t only married Carlo Mendoza, who was one of the winery founders, but that she worked there, as well. “I’m great, Schuyler. Marriage must agree with you. You look more amazing than ever.”
Schuyler grinned. She was even shorter than Billie, but she had a personality as big as Texas. “Marriage suits me very well.” Her gaze took in Grayson with undisguised curiosity. “So. Let me guess. You’re the other brother. The rodeo one.”
Grayson returned her smile, though a little less naturally than Billie was used to. “You’ve got one up on me, I’m afraid,” he said.
Right. Billie mentally shook herself. “Schuyler Mendoza, this is Grayson F—Smith. Grayson, Schuyler was the bride at the wedding I mentioned on our way here. Now she’s the special events coordinator for the winery.”
Schuyler looked pleased that Billie knew that detail, and extended her hand to Grayson. “So nice to meet you, Grayson Fuh-Smith.” Her smile widened as she winked. “I’ve met your brother Nathan, hon. I know all about you Fortune boys.”
Billie thought Grayson’s expression looked a little doubtful about that, but he shook the bright-eyed blonde’s hand without comment.
“How do you like the merlot? We’re pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself.”
“It’s everything that your sommelier promised,” he assured her. “Truth is, though, by nature I’m more of a beer kind of guy.”
Schuyler laughed. “Sugar, I’ve heard that your tastes are wide and varied.” Her humorous gaze took in Billie as she said it. “Well, you have one of the finest tables in the house and Alfonse is one of our best. He’ll take good care of you, I’m sure, so I’ll stop intruding on your evening.” She bussed Billie’s cheek with a quick kiss before sashaying away.
“Good friend of yours?” Grayson asked after they were alone.
“Schuyler’s good people. She treats everyone like they’re her dear friends. But I really only knew her because I worked with her sister.” Billie toyed with her wine stem. “She sure seems to know about you, though.” She finally lifted the glass and took a sip. “Fortune boys?”
Grayson grimaced. “I’ll have to call Nathan to see what that was all about.”
Billie hadn’t eaten since that morning and her few sips of wine were already going to her head. Almost as much as he was going to her head. “Being triplets, I imagine you’re all pretty close.”
“Close enough. I haven’t talked to either one of my brothers in a few weeks.” His gaze turned to where Schuyler had stopped at another table across the room, where an attractive older couple were seated. “I wonder what her deal is,” he murmured.
Billie didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking. Schuyler was stunningly beautiful. “She’s married,” she reminded him.
His dark eyes slid back toward her and he smiled slightly. “And not my type, anyway.”
“Not wide and varied enough for you?”
The amusement in his eyes glinted in the flickering candlelight. “My tastes have been narrowing down to more of a fine point lately.”
“Well, I hope you’re not going to be as picky about real estate as you are about women, or you’ll never find your forever home.” She couldn’t believe the words came out of her mouth.
He let out a bark of laughter.
“It’s the wine,” Billie muttered, feeling the glances his laughter had drawn their way, and pushing her glass toward the middle of the table. Since the table seemed about the size of a postage stamp, that wasn’t very far. “Keep that
stuff away.”
“I don’t know about that. It’s helping me get a glimpse into what you’re thinking.”
She frowned at him. Without her noticing, his arm had gone around the back of her chair and his fingers were flirting with her bare shoulder. “What I’m thinking is that this is supposed to be business.”
To prove it, she pulled her phone out of her purse and brought up the new listings again. She scrolled through several, dismissing them out of hand because they didn’t have any land. When she was finished excluding the unsuitable ones, there were only a few remaining, one of which was the Harmon ranch.
“Here.” She set her phone on the table between them so he could see the display. “Three possibles. How much time do you have before you need to be back in Reno? I’m sure I could schedule—”
She broke off when he took her phone and turned it upside down on the table where she couldn’t reach it. “Grayson.”
“Billie.”
“You’re far too used to getting your own way.”
He just smiled slightly and placed her wineglass in her hand. “Indulge me with dinner and I’ll look at your listings over dessert.”
“You’re making that sound like I’ve invited you to see my ‘etchings,’” she grumbled into the wineglass.
He leaned closer until his lips practically brushed her ear. “Is that an offer?”
“Belinda, I thought that was you.”
She nearly choked when DeForest Allen stopped next to their table. “Mr. Allen!” She set aside the glass again and it would have tipped right over if not for the smooth way that Grayson caught it. “What a surprise. You, ah, you haven’t actually met my client Grayson Smith yet, have you.” She quickly made introductions.
“What a surprise, indeed.” Her boss’s smile looked tight as he shook Grayson’s hand. “Anita and I are here celebrating our anniversary.”
“Our twenty-fifth.” Anita Allen patted her husband’s arm. “I insisted on a romantic dinner and DeForest didn’t fail me. La Viña is simply wonderful, isn’t it?” She leaned closer to their table. “I was going to insist that DeForest take a walk with me in the vineyard, but I just couldn’t tear myself away from the excitement.” She gave a meaningful little nod toward the table where Schuyler was still talking with the older couple.
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