With Me in Seattle Bundle Two

by Kristen Proby

  “You cooked this?”

  “It’s not hard.” He shrugs and offers me bread, watching me with humor-filled blue eyes. His hair is a bit messy today, as if he ran his fingers through it over and over again. I take a bite of the pasta and lean back in my chair, eyes closed, and savor the flavors and seasonings hitting my tongue.

  “Damn, that’s good.”

  I hear Dom inhale sharply and open my eyes to find him watching me with his heated gaze.

  “I think I love watching you eat,” he murmurs.

  “I am good at it,” I reply with a laugh, and sip my wine. “This wine is excellent with the sauce.”

  “I know.” His smile is smug.

  “So, your family was a pain in the ass today,” I say, encouraging him to keep talking. I love the sound of his voice.

  He stops twirling pasta on his fork and stares at me with a frown. “No. My family is never a pain in the ass. They can be challenging, frustrating even, but never a pain in my ass.” He sets his fork down and takes a sip of his wine. “My family is the best part of my life.”

  “Better than the vineyard?”

  “Better than anything.”

  “That must be nice,” I murmur, and take a bite of pasta to give my hands something to do. I suddenly feel self-conscious and jealous, and that’s just ridiculous. Not everyone has a tight family.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  “Oh, trust me, you don’t want that story.”

  “I do trust you, and I do want that story.”

  I take a deep breath and another sip of wine. This man is good with words.

  “We’re not close.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug and keep my gaze on my dinner. “There wasn’t a specific reason, we just never were terribly close. I don’t speak to them now. Why did you wait so long to find Steven?” I ask, and immediately want to call the words back. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “I don’t mind.” He uses his bread to soak up any remaining sauce on his plate, pops it in his mouth, and sits back in his chair. He pushes his fingers through his hair, while he gives my question some thought.

  Steven Montgomery is the patriarch of the Montgomery family, and it came to light only about a year ago that Dominic was the son that Steven never knew about.

  “When my mother was alive, it felt like a betrayal to her to want to find him,” he confesses, and swirls the wine in his glass absentmindedly. “She gave me a great life, Alecia. She was so young.”

  Finished with my own meal, I push my plate away, lift my glass, and stand. “Let’s go sit by the fireplace for story time.”

  “Good idea.” He grins and follows me to the fireplace, flipping a switch that makes the flames come to life, before sitting next to me on a cozy loveseat. He shifts toward me, with one knee up on the cushion, so he can look me in the eye.

  “She was young,” I prompt him.

  “Very. She was twenty-two when I was born. She was here in the States on a scholarship for college, and intended to always stay here. She didn’t want to move back to Italy. But, she didn’t have family here, and being a single parent is tough, so when I was about five, we went back to live with her family in Tuscany.

  “My grandmother and grandfather welcomed us and loved us. We lived on their vineyard, which is where I learned to love the lifestyle.” He reaches over and pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear and rubs my earlobe between his thumb and forefinger.

  The man is forever touching me.

  And I don’t seem to mind.

  “Mama worked as a personal assistant for a high-powered hotelier based in Florence, which was about twenty minutes from our home. When I was sixteen, the hotelier decided to come to the States to build a new resort, and he of course expected Mama to come with him, so we both came.”

  “What did you think of that?” I ask. I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s so expressive as he talks; his accent more pronounced when he speaks of his family and the home of his childhood.

  “I didn’t want to come. I was horrible to her. I had suspicions that she was having an affair with him, and that’s why he wanted her to come with him.”

  My eyebrows climb into my hairline. “Was she?”

  “Probably. But if they were, it was discreet. I do know that they had a great deal of affection and respect for each other.”

  “That’s nice,” I murmur.

  “So, we came to California. Mama’s boss, Arturo Baldovini, was building a big resort near Sonoma.”

  “Wine country,” I murmur with a grin, as Dom refills both our glasses, emptying the bottle.

  “Exactly. Once we settled in, I did well. I took jobs with the vineyards during the harvest, earned my own money. I graduated from high school there and then went to college at Sonoma State University.”

  “Why there?”

  “I didn’t want to be far from my mom, just in case she needed me.” He shrugs. “But then the resort was finished in my sophomore year, and Arturo and Mama returned to Italy.”

  “And you stayed.”

  “I stayed. I love it here. I worked my way through vineyards all over California, learning everything I could, so I could one day own one of my own.”

  “You don’t really even have much of an accent unless you speak Italian.”

  “I’ve lived here a long time. Well, until Mama got sick about five years ago. I was thirty, and I got a call from Gianna that Mama was sick with cancer, and that I should go home. So I did.” He sips his wine and cringes. “She passed less than six months later.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, the point of all of this is, while she was living, it never really occurred to me to look for my biological father. My life was happy and full, and I had a wonderful family. And during the few moments that I did wonder, it felt like I was being disloyal to her.

  “About a month after she passed, I was going through some of her things and I found a box full of journals. I set them aside, intending to read them one day, but I wasn’t ready yet.

  “Arturo came to see me, and said that Mama had asked him to help her invest her money, which he had, and to my utter shock, had done it well. She left me millions, Alecia.”

  My jaw drops as I watch his face, the awe and the love crossing his face.

  “Arturo said, ‘Your one dream has always been to own your own vineyard. This is your chance to own it anywhere in the world you want.’”

  “And you chose here.”

  “I chose this land before I knew about Steven.”

  “No way! That’s too big of a coincidence.”

  “It’s true.” He lifts a bottle off the floor at his feet and deftly uncorks it, then pours us each a fresh glass. “I’d owned this place for about two years when I came across that box of journals again. I pulled one out of the box, and a letter addressed to me fell out of it. She said that she was sorry for not telling me sooner about my father, but that she didn’t know how it could affect him. She didn’t give me all of the details, and Steven has filled me in on what she didn’t say since then, but he was on a business trip and picked her up in a bar. It was a one night stand thing, and after they had sex, he confessed that he was separated from his wife, and that he missed her and his children.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. He’d left her his business card, so she knew how to reach him, and when she found out she was pregnant, she did call the number on the card, but his wife answered.”

  “They’d reconciled,” I guess.

  “Yes, and Mama couldn’t bear the thought of ripping his family apart. So, she didn’t tell him.

  “I almost didn’t look for him, knowing about his family. I didn’t want them to think that I was trying to start some drama, or interrupt their lives. But I admit, I was curious.”

  “I would be too,” I add. This wine is going to my head.

  “So, I hired a private investigator, and within about a month, he found him.”

 
; “And all that time, you were less than an hour away.”

  He nods thoughtfully and then shakes his head. “I was so fucking nervous. We went through the blood tests to verify paternity, but that wasn’t the hardest part.”

  “What was?” I ask, expecting him to say meeting his siblings.

  “Meeting Gail.”

  “Really? Gail’s great!”

  “I know that now, but Alecia, how do you say hello to a woman, knowing that her husband had an affair with your own mother well over thirty years ago that you are the product of?”

  “You tell me.”

  He shakes his head again and sips his wine. “She hugged me.” His gaze turns to mine and he frowns in wonder. “Took one look at me and just wrapped her little arms around me and said, ‘I’m so sorry that you lost your mama, sweet boy.’”

  “Oh my.” Tears fill my eyes at the thought.

  “Yeah.” He takes my hand in his and threads our fingers together. His hand feels cool and smooth against mine. “I know it had to hurt her, Alecia. But she has never once treated me with any kind of malice.”

  “She never would.”

  “The second hardest part was meeting the siblings.” He laughs now, and brushes his knuckle down my cheek. “That was not easy. But over the past year, we’ve come to know each other, and most importantly, trust each other.”

  “It’s a big, overwhelming, amazing family.” I smile, as I think of the whole family. “They are the funnest people I know.”

  “Me too.” He chuckles. “I’m lucky to have them. They’ll never be a pain in my ass.”

  “They’re lucky to have you,” I whisper. “Natalie’s baby shower for Olivia was my first job with them. That was more than two years ago now. I’ve helped with every wedding, shower, birthday party, and major event since then. I think you’re all lucky.”

  “Who’s lucky to have you, cara?”

  I blink at him, and just then my phone beeps with an incoming text.

  Saved by the bell.

  I glance down and then laugh.

  “What is it?”

  “One of my brides. She’s changed her flower choices four times already, and her wedding is in three months. I don’t even know why she’s bothering. The marriage will be over inside of eighteen months.”

  “That’s a cynical attitude for a wedding planner,” Dom says dryly.

  “Just because I plan a good party, doesn’t mean I believe in love.” I glance up to see him cock a brow and wait for me to continue. “Let’s just say that I’m not a firm believer in happily ever after, and yes, I’m speaking from experience, and no, I’m not telling you that story tonight.”

  “A story for another night, then.”

  “Or a story for never.” I take a deep breath and stretch, and as I look around, I realize that night has fallen and the stars are twinkling brightly around us. “It’s late. I have to be up early.”

  Dom stands and helps me to my feet, then escorts me inside and up to my room, just down the hall from his own room.

  I hope I don’t pick now to start sleep walking, because he has me so tied up in knots I’ll most likely end up in his room, crawling into bed with him.

  “Thanks for walking me up,” I say, when we reach my door. “And thanks for the story. I enjoyed it.”

  “Much to my surprise, so did I. I haven’t told that story before.” I’m facing him, but not touching him. I can smell his body wash and that scent that’s simply Dominic, and my whole body tightens.

  What is up with the chemistry between us?

  Before I can turn away, he gently glides his knuckles down my cheek, then lifts the other hand and cups my neck and jaw, and the air around us is shimmering with longing and lust. He leans down and sweeps his lips lightly over mine and then, just like yesterday, kisses me tenderly, nipping at my lips gently. Finally, he pulls back just an inch to catch his breath and tips his forehead against my own.

  “Sleep well, cara,” he whispers, as he pulls me against him for a long, firm hug. Even in my heels, I fit just under his chin, and being pressed against his chest is the best feeling ever. He’s hard and warm and…comfortable.

  I could stay here all night.

  So I do the only thing that makes sense and I pull slowly away, not even trying to mask the confusion and longing that must be on my face.

  “Sleep well, Dominic.”

  He watches me with heated blue eyes as I turn away and close the door to my room behind me, then lean my back against the smooth wood.

  How can a man kiss me like it’s the first time…again?

  Chapter Six

  I wipe the fog off the mirror in my larger than life bathroom and stare at my bloodshot eyes.

  Damn sexy Italian.

  I slept like shit because all I could think about was the way his lips feel on mine, how standing in his arms is the safest I’ve ever felt, and that sexy accent of his when he speaks Italian is enough to melt a girl’s panties at twenty paces.

  I have too much to do today to have him on my mind. I have to keep my head in the game. My eyes on the prize. My…crap, what’s that metaphor about the target?

  Either way, I don’t have time to get all moony over Dominic Salvatore.

  Just as I begin to rub lotion into my still-wet legs, there’s a knock on my door.

  While shrugging into a robe, I pad across the bedroom and open the door to find a smiling Celeste holding a breakfast tray.

  “Mr. Salvatore asked me to bring you something to eat. Can I set this inside for you?”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I reply, and reach out to take the tray from her. “Thank you, I’ll take it.”

  “It’s no problem. And just between you and me?” She laughs and crosses her arms over her chest. “He chose everything on that tray. It was actually very…surprising.”

  “Surprising?”

  “I’ve never seen him take so much interest in breakfast before. Have a good day.”

  She waves and leaves, and I carry the tray to the seating area before the window. The silver tray is covered in a cream colored cloth, and boasts a small vase with a single pink tulip, making me grin and my heart soften, just a bit.

  Under the silver dome lid, I find scrambled eggs, bacon and yogurt.

  And he even remembered how I take my tea.

  He’s not just a sexy Italian. He’s a sweet sexy Italian.

  As I nibble a piece of bacon and sniff at the soft pink petals of the tulip, I notice a small white card with my name written in bold handwriting.

  Inside is a note.

  Alecia,

  Good morning. I hope you slept more soundly than I did. Couldn’t stop thinking about how badly I wanted to keep kissing you, and mess up your gorgeous hair. Thank you for listening last night.

  Dom

  I read it three more times with a silly grin on my face, and feel my belly fill with gigantic butterflies.

  Oh boy. What in the hell am I going to do with him?

  ***

  “I don’t give a shit if every hole has been dug, you’re going to fill them and re-dig them.”

  Isaac Montgomery, the eldest of the Montgomery clan, is pissed, and for good reason. The person in charge of digging holes for the tent measured incorrectly.

  “You got it, boss.”

  “Mark,” he calls over to Mark Williams, another member of the huge family, and a part of Isaac’s crew. “How is the arbor coming?”

  Mark cringes and joins us. “Hey, Alecia.”

  “Hi, Mark. What are you doing here today?”

  “Scott’s kid came down with appendicitis, so I’m taking over this job.” He turns to Isaac. “We don’t have enough supplies. One of the guys forgot to restock his truck last night.”

  “What the fuck?” Isaac asks, and props his hands on his hips. “Since when did this become an amateur operation?”

  “He’s headed back to town to get what we need, but we’ll lose two hours.”

  That means we’ll
all be working an extra two hours today.

  “Okay, it is what it is.” I consult my iPad and make notes. “Mark, do you know when the outdoor restrooms will be delivered?”

  “My brother just had to order the hoity-toity toilets,” Isaac laughs.

  “I’m sorry, but I refuse to put a Honey Bucket out for the guests to use,” I reply, and shake my head.

  “Hell, the men could find a bush,” Mark says with a smirk, and then laughs when he sees the scowl on my face. “I’m just kidding.”

  “This isn’t a frat party, you know.”

  “Wait until the music and liquor start.” Isaac pats my shoulder almost apologetically. “And it’s not the boys you have to worry about.”

  “Our girls know how to have a good time,” Mark adds with a smile.

  “Oh, I’m aware, and I’m looking forward to it,” I reply. The girls are a blast, if a bit of a handful. “You know you love it.”

  “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Isaac confirms with a half-smile. “I’m going to go check on other details before I leave you in Mark’s capable hands.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.” I nod at the guys and turn away just as my phone begins ringing. “Hello, Tonya.”

  “What the fuck, Alecia? I’ve texted you nine times today!”

  “I’m aware. I haven’t had a chance to respond.”

  “I need more attention than this! This is ridiculous! I need to feel like I’m your only client!”

  I roll my eyes and rub the back of my neck. “Your business is appreciated and important, Tonya, but you’re not my only client. What’s going on today?”

  “If you would have read my texts, you would know. My fiancé’s sister is a bitch. I don’t want her in my wedding.”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath and mentally think, hello pot, meet kettle. Tonya is my most challenging client. If you look bridezilla up in the dictionary, her photo is right there. “Have you informed her that she’s not going to be in the wedding party?”

  “That’s your job.”

  “No, Tonya, it’s not my job. This is a family matter.”

  “What did I hire you for?”