She sat up straighter when he drove through the two pillars and pulled the car under the moon-dappled shade of the olive tree. They sat silent for a moment, listening to the rustle of the leaves overhead, the moment ripe with possibilities. He didn’t want to make any suggestions; he knew he had to leave the next step up to her.
“I’d better go in,” Gina said. He thought he detected a slight intonation of regret.
Hiding his disappointment was hard. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he said.
They made their way around the side of the cottage on the flagstone steps. Josh was prepared for Timothy to leap out of the garden, but there was no sign of the big cat tonight. Gina fumbled with her key at the door, and he helped her slide it into the keyhole. His large hand closed over her smaller one, and he was surprised at the warmth of her skin. Or maybe he wasn’t; Gina wasn’t one of those cool and calculating women, the kind you didn’t want to touch.
“Thanks for a lovely afternoon and evening,” she said. She had turned to face him, and this was the moment that he had been anticipating all night. The way her eyes were shining, the way her lips were slightly moist and parted—these weren’t the signs of wanting to say good night at the door.
“I had a good time, too,” he said, shifting closer. He wove his fingers though hers when he handed the key back.
“I’m sorry if my family was annoying,” she said softly.
He took her other hand, and she curled her fingers into his. “Your family is part of you, Gina. Of course I didn’t mind them,” he said, learning to his surprise that he really meant it.
She smiled gently, which brought an amused gleam to her eyes. This made her even more irresistible, and he drew her into his arms. The darkness shifted around them, realigned itself, and he touched his lips to hers lightly, experimentally.
“What if your family could see us doing this?” he murmured, trailing a string of kisses up to her temple. “What would they think?”
“Some of them would tell me I’d better be careful,” she whispered, but she offered her lips again, and from the way she kissed him, Josh didn’t believe that she cared what anyone thought.
Her lips parted beneath his, hungry and hot, and he obliged with a deep, demanding kiss. His heart commenced pounding against his ribs. That her passion was so knowing, so keyed to his, stunned him, and his hands gripped hers as he drove her back against the stone wall of the cottage.
He felt the firm outlines of her breasts pressed hard against his chest, and he wanted to caress them, to stroke them, to take them into his mouth and taste of them, learning to savor them as he had learned to savor fine wine. But there was no time to think about that now, not with her arms going around him and pulling him even closer, not with her breath hot against his skin.
“Gina,” he said, shaken by his desire for her. “Let’s—”
Her hand came up; her fingers touched his lips. “Don’t say it,” she said. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Nice Italian girls don’t sleep around,” she said primly, and then hiccuped. This was followed by a low laugh, and he decided that she’d seemed giddy ever since they’d laughed about all her relatives in the restaurant. Maybe she’d caught more of a wine buzz than he’d realized.
“Of course,” she went on, “I may not be that nice.”
“I hope not,” he muttered.
“Josh!” she said, though he suspected that she wasn’t offended.
“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, sounding more like the perfect gentleman than he felt at the moment.
“Kissing me might make me entirely too comfortable,” she said thoughtfully.
“That wouldn’t be the case with me,” he replied with great feeling.
Her eyes reflected the moonlight, the pupils enormous. “Today I meant what I said about how painful it was when our relationship ended before. I don’t want to be hurt again, Josh.”
Ah, so that was it. Stunned by this revelation, he removed his weight from her and pondered briefly this slant on things.
She was still so close that he felt the breath of her sigh on his cheek. “I’m sorry, Josh. I shouldn’t have—”
Now it was his turn to shush her, which he did with a brief kiss on the lips. “No apology necessary,” he said firmly.
“I need to reach a point where I can trust,” she said. “I’m sorry if that seems unnecessary to you. To me, it’s important. I don’t want to rush things.”
“I understand,” Josh said, regretting more than ever his choice of Tahoma. He’d been high on himself in those days, hadn’t thought he was capable of making a mistake because he’d started believing all the publicity hype about him. He hadn’t thought Gina had been in love with him back there at Dunsmoor Castle. He’d thought it was a serious case of like, of knowing that the possibility of something more existed. Now it was clear that their flirtation, their budding relationship, had been much more than that to her. He had been a fool for not reading the signs correctly.
“Well. I guess that’s a wrap.” She didn’t sound happy about it.
He stepped away, and she did the same. “Do you want me to call you?”
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course,” she said. And then as if to reaffirm it, “Of course.”
He backed off, watched her go inside. As he walked around to the front of the cottage, he caught a glimpse of Timothy crouched atop the wall, his yellow eyes gleaming. The cat let out a long, woeful yowl.
“Yeah, me, too, buddy,” he said to the cat. Timothy only blinked at Josh, switched his tail and jumped down into the tall grass.
As for Josh, after he got home he lay awake in his lonely bed, imagining lying with Gina in her lavender-scented boudoir, and thinking that he’d better order a new supply of allergy pills just in case.
Chapter Ten
“All right, Gina. What’s up?” Shelley cocked her head and studied Gina while Gina schooled her expression to remain businesslike. This was, after all, a scheduled bachelor-auction committee meeting in Shelley’s office at the Bootery, and Gina was going over a list of food items that her aunt Dede’s catering service was planning to donate to feed the volunteers.
“What do you mean, what’s up? Unless you’re talking about pastrami sandwiches. Aunt Dede wants to bring them over around nine o’clock on the night of the auction.” Gina was all innocence, but the third member of the committee, Shelley’s friend Claudia, was sitting directly across from her and didn’t seem convinced.
During this exchange, Gina’s cousin Emily walked in and went to grab a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator in the next room. She tossed one to Claudia, too. “Yeah, Gina, you’re looking particularly happy,” she said critically as she sat down beside Shelley.
“Vibrant,” agreed Claudia. “I’m pleased that I have a hardworking committee dedicated to sponsoring the best bachelor auction in the history of this town,” Gina said.
“Rubbish,” sniffed Shelley. “I’d say your present radiance has more to do with seeing Josh Corbett. I hear a lot of gossip in the Bootery, you know.”
Gina slammed down her clipboard. “Oh, mercy. There’s gossip?”
“Fed by all your relatives who work at Volare. They said you two were gazing into each other’s eyes when you ate there. They said that Josh Corbett is a great tipper, and that he acts like he’s crazy about you. They said—”
Gina buried her face in her hands. “Oooh, spare me,” she groaned. “Can’t I do anything in this town without everyone’s knowing about it?”
“If you’re planning to sneak around, it would be best not to hang out at your family’s restaurant,” Shelley informed her.
“Great point,” agreed Emily.
“Why would I take Josh, who is accustomed to the finer things in life, to any place that wasn’t as good as Volare? I mean, the Beacon Drive-In doesn’t exactly measure up.”
“I’m not telling you
how to run your life. I’m merely stating that if you wish to remain anonymous, you could drive into San Francisco for the evening. Or to St. Helena, for that matter.” Shelley got up and brought another chair for the last committee member, Kasey Simms, who was breezing in through the front door as she spoke.
“Well,” said Kasey, “you won’t believe who just signed up for the bachelor auction.” She waved a list in front of their faces.
“Josh Corbett?” ventured Claudia. Gina snapped to attention.
“The same. I’d left the list at Mom’s Diner, like someone suggested last time, since that’s where most of the eligible unattached bachelors in town eat at least one meal a day. And Josh Corbett’s signature is right here on the bottom line.”
“Let’s see,” said Shelley, who tended to be skeptical. “Hmm, looks like you’re right.”
Gina tried to hide her dismay. If Josh Corbett were one of the bachelors, women would fall all over themselves trying to bid. She would be onstage as emcee and not allowed to participate.
Shelley shot her a knowing look. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
Even though Gina’s friend recognized her discomfort, she had no intention of owning up to it. “Now that we’re all here, let’s talk about who’s going to work the phones,” she said, trying to nudge the meeting back into focus.
Shelley produced a list of volunteers, and Emily brought up the subject of getting T-shirts screen-printed for them to wear that night, and soon the meeting was moving along as it should be.
But Gina kept thinking of how upsetting it had been to watch Josh walk away with Tahoma on the Mr. Moneybags show, and now that he’d signed up for the bachelor auction, that was exactly what would be happening again. Not with Tahoma this time, but with some other woman.
JOSH DROPPED INTO THE LOCAL barber shop early one morning for a haircut and ran into Gina’s uncle Albert, who glanced up from the newspaper he was reading and smiled his greeting. Albert Aurelio was the chief financial officer at Vineyard Oaks.
“Josh, how’s it going?” Albert asked as he folded the paper and set it aside. He appeared tired, even haggard, with deep circles under his eyes.
“Good,” Josh said. “I’m getting better at bocce, Frankie wants to give me one of his puppies and I’m enjoying my stay in Rio Robles.”
Albert nodded vigorously. “It’s the best place on earth,” he said with conviction.
“That’s what Gina says,” Josh said.
“It’s no more than what we all think. Rio Robles was a good choice for our forebears to start a winery. Now it’s up to my generation to ensure that there will still be a Vineyard Oaks for our children and our children’s children. It’s not so easy,” he added with a rueful chuckle.
Josh wasn’t sure how to reply to this, but Albert went on talking.
“Of course, without Fredo the winery would not have survived. Never have I seen someone who is more attuned to people. My main concern is finance—that’s what I was trained to do. But Fredo, he knows the grapes. And he’s great with workers, understands how to manage them, how to encourage them to give their best. Our strength is our family, but our heart—that comes from our people.”
“I like that philosophy, Albert.”
“It has served us well.” He paused. “You and Gina—you’re getting along okay?”
Josh was glad for the change in subject, since he was uncomfortable discussing anything about the Angelini winery with Albert. “Gina’s a wonderful person,” he said. “It’s good to see her again.”
Albert nodded sagely as the barber beckoned him for his turn. “Fredo likes you. So does Rocco. It was nice running into you, my boy.”
Josh picked up the newspaper, but he didn’t read it. As he scanned the lines of print, he kept thinking of how the Angelinis would fare if their winery was bought out by Starling. The operating philosophy of Starling was different, and the corporate culture wasn’t family oriented. The Angelinis would have a difficult adjustment to their new owner. More and more, he was having a hard time separating his friendship with the Angelinis from his obligation to Walter Emsing and Starling. He hadn’t spoken with Walter lately, but he’d be hearing from him soon, and he didn’t look forward to the conversation.
Josh was in low spirits by the time he got to the local bookstore, where he gloomily shopped for books about the background and history of the valley. On the one hand, he wanted to read them so he’d be more familiar with Gina’s family’s role in the Napa Valley, but he was also aware that any knowledge he gained would be interesting to Walter. Unless he bowed out of his obligation to Walt, which would certainly not endear him to his father, who sat on Starling’s board of directors.
HE WAS STANDING IN THE checkout line considering all the woulds and shoulds when Maren breezed into the store.
“Josh,” she said, smiling affably. “I haven’t seen you around lately.”
Three days had passed since he’d taken Gina to dinner, and although he’d called her, he hadn’t dropped by or made a date with her. Why? Because he was concerned that he’d been coming on too strong. Because, now that he was sure that she’d truly loved him when they were on the Mr. Moneybags show, he needed to evaluate his feelings for her all over again.
“I’ve been working,” he said, holding up the book he planned to buy. “Reading up on Rio Robles,” he added.
“Gina said she enjoyed taking you on a wine-tasting tour,” Maren told him.
He couldn’t believe how this comment made his heart leap in his chest. He remained calm, however. It wouldn’t do to let Maren know how crazy he was about Gina, especially since if he did, every Angelini from here to Calistoga would be in on it, too.
“It was fun,” he said, trying to maintain a noncommittal tone.
“Josh,” Maren said, moving slightly closer and lowering her voice so that she spoke confidentially. “I’ve had a brilliant idea. You may recall that I work for a caterer.” She waited for his nod before she plunged ahead.
“Well, one of the things we do is prepare picnic lunches for honeymooners. They like to get away from it all in a romantic setting, and there’s no more romantic setting than the Napa Valley, don’t you agree?”
“I certainly can’t argue with that,” Josh said.
“The thing is, these two honeymooners ordered a big picnic basket for today and then canceled. We have no one else who can use it, so the food will simply go to waste. How about if you stop by our kitchen on Springwell Street and pick it up? I’ll run over to Good Thymes and suggest that I relieve Gina for a while, and then you can walk in with the basket and invite her on a picnic at Lake Berryessa. It’ll be fun.”
“Maren, I like the way you think,” Josh said. His spirits climbed at the very idea of spending the whole afternoon with Gina.
Maren smiled conspiratorially. “The catch is that you can’t tell her I set this up. Promise?”
“Promise,” Josh assured her.
“You’ve got yourself a date.” Maren winked and fluttered a little wave at him as she headed out of the store, moving at a fast clip.
GINA SPOTTED JOSH THROUGH the window when he arrived at Good Thymes. For a moment she appeared flustered, smoothing her hair back, frowning, then grinning engagingly before disappearing from view. He took this to mean that she’d gone to put on lipstick or comb her hair, and he wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter to him if her hair was stringy or her lipstick chewed off; she looked gorgeous to him all the time.
When he walked into the shop, Maren was pouring herself a cup of herbal tea; she winked at him.
“Gina, you have a visitor,” Maren caroled, and presently Gina appeared from the back room. Two bright spots of color accentuated her cheekbones, and Josh was sure that this was a natural blush, not artificial.
“Hi, Josh. Nice to see you,” Gina said in an offhand tone that didn’t fool him a bit.
“I came to drag you away from your work,” he said, smiling down at her. Her hair was drawn ba
ck into a knot at the back of her head, and he suddenly had a vision of his hands releasing it to fall around her shoulders.
“What are you offering?” she said. She angled a coy look up at him, and though he didn’t find coyness attractive in a woman, it pleased him that she wanted to play the age-old game of luring a man. Not that he needed luring. He was already entranced by her. Still, the byplay made pursuing her more fun.
“I have a picnic lunch in the back seat, a full tank of gas, and I am prepared to sweep you off your feet.”
She pretended to consider the offer. “Since it’s a slow day, you’re on,” she said. She spoke to Maren. “Mother, you don’t mind if I leave you in charge, do you?”
“Not at all. In fact, I might be able to get some real work done around here if you leave me to myself. Go on, children.” Maren smiled and shooed them away.
When Gina wasn’t watching, he returned Maren’s wink. For some reason, the thought popped into his mind that she’d be a great mother-in-law.
“JOSH, YOU SHOULD SEE MORE of the valley than just Lake Berryessa. How about if we eat lunch there, then ride up to Calistoga and take in Old Faithful?”
“The geyser? I thought that was at Yosemite.”
“Well, it is. This is a different Old Faithful.”
“Okay. It’s like the other day when we went wine tasting—you’re the tour guide.”
“I’m sure you’ve traveled a lot,” she added. “Old Faithful’s not going to impress you that much, maybe.”
“Don’t expect me to be impressed by the scenery. You’re all the scenery I want.”
She hated it when he looked at her that way. No, she loved it when he looked at her that way. Oh, she didn’t know how she felt at all, which was confusing. The other day on their wine-tasting tour, she hadn’t expected to reveal so much of herself to Josh. She wasn’t sorry that she had, however, because she sensed that their communication had reached a new, more honest level. She had begun to doubt whether she should have let on how much she’d cared for him in the past. She didn’t want him to take off running; she didn’t want to scare him away. At least, not until she’d figured out if there was still a chance for them to have a real relationship.
Heard It Through the Grapevine Page 14
