St. Helena Vineyard Series: Falling for You (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by MK Meredith

  “Fine.” She stomped behind the booth. “But you owe me.”

  No sooner had Sage stepped behind the counter, and it seemed just about every guy in town bee-lined their way to the booth like their dicks had honey radars. The hell he’d let any of these clowns get one taste of that full mouth. And he’d deal with why in another century.

  He slid up to the booth and slapped a hundred-dollar bill to the counter. “This should cover you.”

  “Well, isn’t this interesting,” Clovis twittered. “Hey, Lucinda. See what we got here?”

  Parker ignored the watching women. For some reason, seeing Sage kiss a line-up of different men made his gut twist. Did it make sense? Hell no, but what did in this damn town?

  Sage leaned toward him. “What are you doing?” she asked in a fierce whisper. “Don’t you think my humiliation is bad enough as it is?”

  He’d let her hurtful words pass; she was reacting under stress and hadn’t been privy to a kiss from Parker Edwards before. Well, he was about to make her day. Actually, he just wanted to save her from having to lock lips with every Tom, Dick, and whoever the Harry-hell else was lined up behind him. “I’m trying to help you, you spoiled brat. Don’t you think a hundred dollars should cover your friend’s break?”

  Sage glanced down at the money under his hand. “A hundred dollars, are you crazy?”

  He’d never thought so, but since stepping foot into Tiny Town, he now had serious doubts.

  “Well, get on with it already. There’s a line,” Clovis demanded.

  Sage’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth parted in a small “o.”

  He winked at her. “Let’s make it a good one. Give your paper something to talk about.”

  A mischievous twinkle lit her eyes, and her mouth widened in a grin.

  Dropping a hundred-dollar bill might look like a sacrifice, but he bet those lips tasted like a reward.

  Snaking his hand beneath her hair, he gripped her neck and dropped his mouth gently to hers. He’d been wrong, her lips tasted more like a celebration, one that had the potential to never end. She was sweet with wine and possessed a slick heat that made his body rear to attention.

  He’d had every intention of pulling away, but her arms snuck up around his neck, and she dove in like she’d just discovered scuba diving—and he was going with her. She angled her head, sliding her mouth against his, and as she broke away just enough to sample from the other side, he grasped the opportunity to take a deeper taste.

  When his tongue touched hers, her body jerked and her arms tensed, all but pulling him over the counter, and he wanted nothing more than for the crowd to disappear so they could see where this was going in private. Because he sure as hell liked the direction

  “What the hell is going on here? Is this a festival or a damned orgy?” Banon James Edwards I stood in a wide stance, his arms crossed at his chest, and condemnation on his face. Pretty much his usual look.

  Parker drew back from Sage, then stepped between her and his grandfather like a protective wall. She didn’t need any of his shit directed at her. “Sir, you know that’s uncalled for.”

  “What I’d say is uncalled for is embarrassing our family’s name.”

  Ida Beamon sashayed around the booth with her head held almost as high as her bosom, then stepped between him and his grandfather. “Now, you listen here, old man. Your grandson just donated one hundred dollars to our youth art program. What exactly have you done?” She poked a bony finger to his chest.

  Parker had never seen his grandfather uncertain, but in that moment, the old man looked like he wanted to run, and he couldn’t make eye contact to save his life.

  “My eyes are up here, Edwards.” Ida jerked her pointer and middle fingers toward her face.

  “Excuse, me. I was—”

  “Yes, you were what…here to tell your grandson ‘nice work?’ Here to make a donation? Or here to ask me out on a date?”

  Parker all but choked on his own tongue as his grandfather’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. No one had ever spoken to the old man like that, none that ever survived anyway. Parker never thought he’d see the day, but there his grandfather was, given what for by a woman dressed in her street corner best and all the poor guy could do was stare.

  Banon Edwards cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Ida laughed and shook her head. “I’ll be waiting. You know where to reach me.”

  She turned toward Parker and Sage with a self-satisfied grin and the devil in her eyes. “He wants me.”

  “Ida!” Sage pressed a hand to her mouth, looking from Parker to her aunt as if she were trying to figure out who to run from first.

  Clovis nodded in pure appreciation. “Now, that’s how a leopard hunts its prey.”

  A tall blonde with a friendly grin and even friendlier eyes joined them. “I’m back.” She hugged Sage while she inspected him from head to toe. “Thanks for the help, Sage. Looks I’ve got my work cut out for me.” A look of challenge accepted crossed her face as she examined the long line of suitors.

  She crooked her finger toward Parker. “You can be first.”

  Sage stepped up and grabbed his hand. “You got your hands full already, Baby.”

  He glanced down at Sage, surprised by the strong tug in the other direction. Waving at the ladies, he let her lead him away. “In a hurry?”

  “To get you away from the man-eater?” She scoffed. “Yes.”

  The idea that she didn’t want him kissing the woman named Baby made him feel a shit-ton better about his donation. Though, if they were both feeling it, the reality was, he had more of a problem than he thought.

  They made their way through the crowds of tasters with Sage not letting up on her grip of his hand. And he didn’t mind—which was weird as hell. He’d never been a hand-holder, even with women he’d been dating a couple of weeks, much less a couple of days. Shit. He and Sage weren’t even dating.

  He eyed her, noting the perfect tip of her nose, and how she was the perfect height for him to see just a bit down her shirt, and how her smile left his chest tight. The afternoon was not at all what he’d expected, starting with how caring of a person Sage was right down to how good she tasted. The fact that his grandfather just got hit on by a corseted septuagenarian couldn’t even register. He shook his head.

  “I’m sorry,” Sage whispered.

  “For what?”

  “This isn’t exactly how today was supposed to go. And your grandfather seemed really mad.”

  That was an understatement. Monday would be a long day of ass-chewing either by his grandfather or the board. He had some fast-talking to do to make sure they didn’t replace him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. He’s not my greatest fan. But I owe Ida a big one. I’ve never seen the man run scared in my life. It was fucking awesome.” The last statement was punctuated with a fist pump and Sage jumped.

  “Oh!” She continued with a fearful look in her eye, “Don’t tell Ida you owe her, the reality of her payout might give you nightmares.” Laughing, she shook her head. “Family is as terrifying as they are beautiful.”

  But that was just it. He didn’t know beautiful, not when it came to family. Though each day spent in this town was giving him a glimpse of what being a part of a larger whole could really mean.

  It was another reason to finish this job and hightail it far away. No sense in sampling something he could never have.

  But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t look away from the gratitude and joy shining from those damn chocolate eyes.

  Chapter 5

  Two days later, Sage had to bite her lip to keep from whistling.

  “Where are we going now?” Parker walked up in a pair of worn jeans that hugged his thighs, and Sage would bet her cartoonist salary—measly as it was—that they celebrated his ass, too.

  She was treating him to one of Harper’s art lessons at the Fashion Flower children’s boutique. Harper had become so busy as the to
wn’s marketing guru, she hadn’t been able to teach as often as she’d like, so this was a special treat. And one more way for Parker to see how the paper was significant to the St. Helena way of life.

  “I’m glad you wore some casual clothes. But we’re going to have to do something about that button-up.”

  He glanced down at his light blue designer shirt, brushing his hands over the front. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

  “Not a thing as long as you keep rubbing it that way.” Her eyes popped wide. Damn it! “I mean, aren’t you afraid of getting paint on it? I’m not sure Armani goes with candy apple red acrylics.”

  He visibly blanched.

  Laughing, she grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.” At least, she hoped she would, anything besides how good he tasted and better he felt. She couldn’t get the damn mind-numbing experience of kissing him out of her head, and they were going on over forty-eight hours since her lady parts had started singing hallelujah.

  He’d taken Sunday for research—or so he said. Sage worried the whole time he was avoiding her because of the kiss. She was sure the last thing he wanted was to get sexy with a small-town cartoonist, but damn if she didn’t wish it anyway. Then Monday, he’d been holed-up with the silver-hairs in meetings in the morning and then in the evening. She’d seen him for all of two hours mid-day on Sorrento Ranch alongside a gaggle of kids who’d been visiting on a field trip. Thank God the kids had been there because every time she stood too close to him, her lady parts leaned his way like a damn divining rod. The only thing keeping her from making a complete fool of herself was the threat of jail for indecency in front of minors.

  In the end, the extra hours alone left her a lot of time to work and too much time to think. She’d planned a new series of greeting cards and had made progress on the week’s comics. Unfortunately, her apartment studio’s walls were also now beginning to look like some weird stalker’s altar of worship with the different profiles of Parker she’d drawn. But there was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place just by looking at him—so she’d needed to draw him. Pencil to paper in multiple shades was where she got her answers.

  Thanks to the success of Saturday’s picnic, there were so many hearts floating about her head that even her comic gorilla, Edward, was behaving himself—somewhat, anyway. The Sunday edition showed the big oaf kissing the townsfolk while being chased down by Mittens, and Monday’s edition was Edward playing hide-and-seek with the children on a field trip at Sorrento Ranch.

  That one really got to her. When she’d taken him out there to show off everything Frankie and Nate had accomplished, she never imagined he would actually interact and play with the children, and even look like he enjoyed it. Her heart had gone a pitter-pattering, rudely refusing to listen to reason, common sense, or any words, period.

  She sighed and followed him into the store, noting that his jeans did, in fact, celebrate his ass and giving a small fist pump of victory. Holy shit on an apple stick, how did a man in business get a body like that? She fanned her face, dropping her hand as he turned toward her.

  “Are you feeling okay?” he asked, dipping his head to find her eyes.

  Which now stared at his fully packed crotch instead of his round and ready ass. It took all the X chromosomes she possessed to drag her eyes up to meet his. “Oh, of course. I was just, um...”

  “Great, you’re both here.” Harper hopped up to meet them, and Sage made a mental note to thank her later. “The kids are so excited to meet Edward. I mean, Mr. Edwards.”

  But Parker hadn’t missed the joke, and shook his head with a lopsided grin. “If you guys are honestly teaching these kids that I’m the gorilla, you two are bad influences.”

  Sage giggled behind her hand. “Oh, I almost forgot. He can’t get paint on his shirt, and with these kids, that’s like saying don’t breathe. Any ideas?”

  Harper looked him up and down with a gleam in her eye. “Follow me.”

  They marched past Young, Hip, and Happening BLVD, where all the tweens found their signature looks and followed Harper into a back changing room. “Take your shirt off.”

  “What?” Both Sage and Parker said, simultaneously. Though Parker also leaned forward with a look of pure confusion on his face.

  “Your shirt. You don’t want it stained, take it off.”

  He blinked at her.

  “Oh, for sweet carrots and brussels sprouts, I’m not going to shoot you for The Boulder Holder’s next underwear ad, I’m going to give you a smock.”

  “Sweet carrots and brussels sprouts?” Sage asked.

  Harper rolled her eyes. “Don’t you start with me, miss ‘oh heck this’ and ‘oh heck that.’”

  Parker joined it. “I gotta side with Harper on this one.”

  Both women turned on him and said, “Shut up.”

  With a shake of his head that said, these women are crazy more than it said I should stay quiet, Parker released the buttons of his shirt, revealing solid mounds of tanned, smooth muscle from underneath.

  And with each button let loose, Sage lost another breath.

  “Sage.”

  Damn, she thought he was sexy before, but this was beyond anything she’d ever imagined.

  “Sage,” Harper said a little louder, holding out a smock. “Help him out instead of eye-banging him.”

  “Ohmygod! What happened to sweet carrots and brussels sprouts? There are kids out there.”

  “Exactly, and the more time I spend in here, the more likely they are to tear the place down.”

  Sticking her tongue out, Sage grabbed the smock. It was one of the many hospital gowns donated from St. Helena Memorial. Wanting to die of abject mortification, Sage twirled a finger at Parker, handing him the cover-up. “Put this on, I’ll tie it in the back.”

  He remained generously quiet as he shrugged into the foam green material. Every striation in his back stood out with each movement, and Sage had to swallow—hard. “That’s ah…I mean. You must work out.”

  What? Why did she keep opening her mouth?

  Grabbing the ties, she threw them into a knot, then turned to flee, but Parker stopped her with a hand to her wrist. “It’s the gym. I work out to release stress. And you have the worst poker face I’ve ever witnessed in a human being before. I gotta say, it’s kinda adorable.”

  Great. She held back a sigh. She was adorable. Like a damned puppy.

  “Shut up.” She scowled, but only halfway before a grin joined it. “Come on.”

  All the kids hailed the new arrivals with the excitement and acceptance that only the single-digiters knew how to do.

  Harper introduced the class to Parker and Sage, then got everyone moving along. The sharp, clean smell of acrylic hit Sage’s nostrils, immediately making her feel at home. When she sat down to work, she most often used a black, felt-tip Flair pen on twenty-four pound Southworth bond paper, but acrylics on poster board worked for her, too.

  She peeked at Parker to find him making faces at a little girl with a face full of freckles and two missing front teeth. Her cheeks were rosy with delight as she stuck her tongue out, pulling her lips wide with her fingers at the same time.

  “Miss Maggie, are you going to play or paint?” Harper asked, then turned toward Parker. “I’m hoping you won’t be a distraction, Mr. Edwards?”

  The whole class giggled as Parker replied, “Yes, Miss Harper.” Then, he threw a wink toward Maggie and picked up his paint brush.

  Sage applied bright yellow paint to her brush, then added her first stroke to the blank page. That was always the most exciting one and carved the path for the rest to follow. She’d seen so much more of Parker in such a short period of time and it was becoming more and more difficult to envision him as her adversary. Especially with those bedroom eyes, and that sexy as heck grin. He was hardworking, kind and open. He played with the children and flirted with the likes of Clovis and Ida. And even though Baby, and every other eligible card-carrying estrogen oo
zer followed him around like he was the newest meat on a stick at Stan’s Soup & Service Station—not that Sage cared, of course—he’d politely offered a hello, then had moved along.

  Sage couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever seen Baby stare forlornly; that was a woman who got what she wanted when she wanted it. But she saw it Saturday.

  “Where do you draw?” he asked, pulling her from her daydreams and back to the much less interesting present—as far as reality went, anyway. He found her adorable. Great.

  “I have a studio in my apartment.”

  “So, did you share the hobby with your grandfather?”

  Gripping her paint brush to keep from throwing it at him, she bit her lip. Art wasn’t her hobby; it was who she was. How could he miss that?

  “Can I see it?” he whispered, oblivious to how close he came to being throttled.

  She stared at him, distracted from revenge by his question, as Harper continued to give instructions and “ooh’d” and “aah’d” at every student’s masterpiece.

  Sage never let anyone but Harper in her work space, and a tight sensation wrapped around her chest. It was too personal, too intimate, too special—with more than her work. It held all the best memories of her childhood with her grandfather. Not to mention the new art on her wall. But something in her wanted to show Parker. He really seemed to be understanding the importance of the paper to St. Helena. And to her. Maybe, if she let him in, he’d really see the light. As soon as she removed the drawings of him, of course.

  And she wasn’t too blinded by her own agenda to miss the struggle Parker had with his grandfather. She didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but the old man sure didn’t seem to hold his grandson in very high regard, which only made Sage think the poor thing was going senile.

  Harper clapped her hands. “Thank you so much for this special treat. It’s nice to see you all improving since the last time I taught. Remember, it’s not the art you make, but the you made by your art.”

  As the children cleaned their work stations, Harper hurried up to Sage. “Hey, can you lock up, Granny called and needs me to pop next door real quick.”