by Brynne Asher
“Bye,” I call as Bev follows Morris out. After more goodbyes, Evan finagles a way to leave with Mary. I shoot her a grin and get an eye roll in return. I’m not quite sure what her hang up is with Evan. Even though they don’t look like they’d go together with her edgy, cool look versus his preppy persona, I think they’re cute and wish she’d give him a chance. I wonder how I can help make that happen?
I’m snapped out of my matchmaking thoughts when I hear boots clomping up the steps from the Ordinary. I probably should’ve done something to stall them from leaving because now I’m alone with Crew. When I turn to him, he’s carrying bottles and glasses in both hands.
I take the glasses and tip my head toward the other side of the kitchen. “Recycling is in the pantry.”
The bottles make a crashing-clanking sound as I finish loading the dirty dishes. It’s late and even though I don’t have an early morning tomorrow, I’ve had a long day. I really don’t want to be alone with Crew.
Preparing myself to walk him to the door and kick him out as politely as I can after he purposely threw poker all evening, I stop. He’s digging through the bag of Laffy Taffy, grabbing a couple. When he steps back, he leans against the counter across the room from me.
Ripping open a banana flavored piece, he tosses the whole thing in his mouth. As he chews, I’m jerked out of my trance to catch the green one he tosses across the kitchen. I nab it out of the air quickly, just in time before it hits me.
Holding it up in my fingers, I frown at him in question.
Through his chewing, he mutters, “Thought you liked the green ones?”
“How do you know that?”
“Pretty easy to see, you’ve been eating them all night.”
“Oh, right.” I sigh, grateful that something finally makes sense. I rip open my candy and take a bite.
“What made you buy a vineyard?” he asks out of the blue.
I guess he’s not leaving on his own. “I was here to visit almost two years ago. My mom is from this area and when she died, I thought it might be nice to spread her ashes here. My grandparents are buried here and she always talked about how she loved Virginia, even though we never visited. Anyway, when I was driving around the countryside, I happened upon Whitetail. It was for sale and had been for some time. Once I began looking into it, I realized it was a sound investment. Especially at the reduced price.”
“What did you do before?”
“I was an assistant manager of a country club. Knowing the restaurant side of things along with managing large events made it easy to transfer that to the winery.”
He tips his head to the side and changes the subject drastically. “Your mom died.”
I take a breath and nod. “Cancer. Ovarian. It was progressed when they found it. She went through treatments for a while before it took over. At the end, she said she wanted her ashes spread at the shore where we lived in California, but for some reason it didn’t seem right. I tried for months to do as she asked, but couldn’t bring myself to follow through. One morning I woke up and decided she needed to be here—where she’s from. You know the rest, I’ve been here a little over a year and a half.”
“You just picked up and moved?”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal, I thought I needed a change after she died. My mom was a real estate agent, and a good one. She purchased a brokerage firm ten years ago. Since I never got into real estate, she sold her firm near the end. That’s where I got the money to put down on the winery.”
He nods, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continues. “You must have family. What about your dad?”
I feel that down deep like I always do when I think about my dad. But after many years of practice, I hold steady. “My dad left when I was little. I don’t have a lot of memories of him.”
He looks at me for a second before slowly nodding again. This is far from small talk and getting too personal, it needs to end.
“I’m tired, Crew. I have an early morning,” I lie.
He ignores me again. “Why the green ones?”
I sigh and lean back against the sink. “Green apple is my favorite. I don’t like the others.”
His mouth tips. “Banana’s the best.”
“Banana is gross. The worst.” I wrinkle my nose because it’s true.
He instantly smiles.
I cringe. “You would like banana. You eat barbeque chips on top of Maggiano’s pasta.”
He huffs a low chuckle and looks down to study the wrapper in his hand. Straightening away from the counter, he moves toward me. I try not to let my eyes widen as he approaches, standing straighter as I frown. When he gets to me, I’m forced to look up. He doesn’t touch me, but he does put a hand to the sink at my side, leaning in close. Very close.
Without taking his eyes off me, he lowers his voice. “What did the boy chip say to the girl chip?”
I read all the jokes. Rather, I read all the jokes on the green apple pieces. I’ve been reading them for so long, I know a lot of them by heart, but I’ve never seen that one. Trying to keep my voice steady, I give my shoulders a slight shrug. “I don’t know.”
I look into his smoldering dark eyes and feel my heart pound. When he leans in even closer, I feel the plastic of the wrapper lightly scraping my bare arm, giving me goose bumps. I congratulate myself for holding my ground, but I had to work for it. I want to push him away even though I want to touch him. I want to slide out from between him and the sink, yet I want to see how his lips and scruff feel on my face.
The next thing I know, he’s holding the wrapper between his index and middle fingers. I lose his eyes when he leans in farther and I get what I wanted. His scruff scratches my cheek when his lips come to my ear, his voice coming out low and rumbly. “Let’s dance and I’ll dip you.”
I whimper on an exhale. Holy shit. He can make a Laffy Taffy joke sound dirty.
He doesn’t wait for me to reply and looks into my eyes. “Carpool Thursday. Be ready at five.”
“I’ve decided to drive myself,” I try, knowing if he makes me weak with a Laffy Taffy joke, there’s no way I can be in the car with him for hours.
He doesn’t say a thing, but shakes his head slowly.
“I’ll see you there,” I go on.
He keeps shaking his head. “Carpool at five. Don’t be late.”
I’ll leave at four-thirty. I’m sure I’ll get lost and need the extra time anyway.
“Fine, five o’clock,” I lie, pleased with myself for sounding strong.
“Thanks for the poker night, Addison.”
“You can’t come back if you keep throwing the game. It’s not fair.”
He says nothing but he does smile, proving he threw the game.
His voice dips and he’s so close, I feel it across my face when he promises, “Thursday.”
My resolve starts to slip and I have to fight the urge to reach out for him, because right now I want nothing more. Finding it hard to stay in control, I decide it’s best not to say anything and simply tip my head as a goodbye.
He pushes off the sink, tossing the wrapper to the counter before turning to leave. When he moves out of my sight, I slump in relief right before the front door slams. Quickly, I grab the wrapper and read the joke again. A joke for kids, that’s clean and pure, but when read by Crew Vega, it’s not only sexy and hot, but made me want to touch him all over.
I can’t help myself. I cross the kitchen to the drawer where I keep my favorite jokes. After opening it, I toss the banana wrapper into a sea of nothing but green.
Chapter 7 – Carpool
Addy –
Swiping mascara quickly over my lashes, I finish and screw the tube shut, tossing it on the vanity. It’s a quarter to five and I planned on leaving fifteen minutes ago.
My day has been busy. The Hatfields-to-be were back and we met with their caterer. It was a long meeting, once again longer than needed. Between the caterer and me, we moved it along as efficiently as we were allowed, planning the s
it-down dinner, table set-ups, and serving staff. Our kitchen should handle it all, as most things will be prepared ahead of time and finished off here.
All this put me behind and I need to get out of here before Crew shows up. The White House starts accepting guests at six-thirty with dinner being served an hour later. With traffic, the normal one-hour drive into the district could easily take two. There’s no way I’m carpooling. Especially with Crew.
Giving myself one more look-over before racing out of the house, I say a prayer to the fashion gods that I’m dressed appropriately. I’ve obviously never been to a dinner at the White House—Sheldon O’Rourke said the dress was semi-formal. That’s a fine line when it comes to dresses. I chose to go simple yet sexy. My dress isn’t embellished and hits me at the knees—I hope that keeps it from being too formal. But it’s fitted, the color of platinum, and the only way I’m able to walk is the slit reaching the middle of my left thigh. The neckline is low, draping into a cowl neck, framing my cleavage more demurely than it would otherwise. It sits on the caps of my shoulders and falls to the middle of my back.
There’s nothing simple about my jewelry and shoes, though. I chose a lariat necklace, worn backwards to hang from my neck down the center of my back since it’s bare. It’s adorned with Swarovski crystals to catch a sparkle in the light. Since I pinned my hair up loosely, I chose long earrings, and my bracelet is wide, taking up at least a third of my forearm. Besides my silver clutch and pencil heels that hook around my ankle, that’s it. I’m a shade of silver from head to toe.
But I’ve got to go, I’m cutting it too close. Grabbing my shoes and clutch, I scurry out my bedroom and down the two flights of stairs. Once I hit the main level, I turn toward the back of the house where the mudroom and garage were added eons ago.
“Yoo-hoo!”
Shit. What’s she doing here?
“Addy?” Bev calls.
I stop at the door to the mudroom. I know I could run for it and she wouldn’t be the wiser, but my conscience grips me. Bev is sweet and she’s come to mean too much. She’s a friend, yet a little maternal. No one could ever replace my mom, and Bev has her own family. She’s motherly and grandmotherly. Basically, she’s too loving for me to skip out on her.
Turning back, I sigh. “Coming.”
She meets me in the middle hall and shrieks, “Look at you!”
With my shoes in one hand and clutch in the other, I swing my arms out. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, you’re a beauty,” she beams. “You’ll represent us splendidly this evening.”
I smile, always loving how Bev has so much ownership over the vineyard. She’s lived here for eighteen years, longer than anyone has ever owned the place in decades, so she would.
“Thanks, Bev, you’re sweet. But I really need to go. I’m going to be late.”
“But Crew isn’t here yet,” she says, a frown playing on her brow. “I came to take your picture.”
“My picture?” I frown back.
“Yes. You’re going to the White House, Addy. They’re going to be featuring wine from our vineyard. A business you’ve worked hard to turn around in short order. A White House function isn’t a common occurrence. You’ll want to remember it forever so I’m going to take your picture,” she explains, frustrated I even asked.
“Bev, I’m late.”
“Crew’s not here,” she repeats.
“The carpool was cancelled,” I quickly inform, because as the moments tick by, she’ll soon find out the carpool was absolutely not cancelled.
She puts her hands to her hips and frowns deeper. “You’re going to get lost.”
“I’ll be fine,” I sigh and turn, looking for my escape.
“Addy!” she calls out for me at the same time the damn doorbell chimes. Shit. “Stop right there, I haven’t taken your picture. Let me get the door.”
I exhale and turn in surrender. Still standing barefoot and holding my shoes by the straps, I close my eyes cursing myself for not doing a better job escaping.
“You did come,” I hear and pull in a deep breath before Bev keeps going. “Addy said the carpool was cancelled.”
I look up and there he is. I’d say he doesn’t look anything like himself, but he does. I’ve only ever seen him scruffy, sweaty, dirty, or at his best, in a clean t-shirt and worn jeans. And in all these states, he’s been nothing short of gorgeous, sexy, and all man in every way he could be.
But now?
Now.
Standing on my doorstep, he’s in all black. His single breasted black suit was molded to fit his body perfectly. He’s a big guy, but it doesn’t look too fitted or like a tent on his large frame. It’s absolutely flawless. A black tie layered over his black dress shirt does all kinds of amazing things—making his dark eyes darker, his hair lusher, and skin even more rugged, if it’s even possible.
And for the first time, I see him clean shaven.
“She did, did she?”
His voice pulls me out of my preoccupation of all that is him.
“You shaved.” It pops out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying. In all honesty, I’m disappointed. As good as he looks—and he looks really good—I think I prefer the scruff.
Ignoring me, his eyes are again sharp and narrowed a bit, not at all happy to learn I was trying to give him the slip.
“There must’ve been a misunderstanding,” Bev, ever so positive in everything, declares. “But now you’re both here and I can take your picture. Come on, Addy. Put on your shoes.”
Blinking myself back to reality, I say, “I’ll put them on in the car. Which reminds me, we should take mine. I won’t be able to climb up in your truck in this dress.”
At the mention of my dress, his dark eyes drop to my body, traveling all the way to my toes. When they make their way back up, Crew steps through the door and swings it shut, capturing my gaze. “Since I’m only hauling you and not your cow, I didn’t bring my truck. You’ll be fine.”
“You can’t go to the White House barefoot. Put your shoes on, Addy,” Bev keeps on.
Giving up, I step over to sit on the bench in the hall. I try and hurry with my shoes, but they’re both waiting and watching. After stumbling with the first, I jerk, surprised when Crew is all of a sudden crouched at my feet. I didn’t even hear him approach.
He doesn’t say a word, but his big warm hands circle my ankle, making efficient and quick work of the delicate clasp. When he finishes, he doesn’t stand, but slides a hand up the back of my calf, giving me a light squeeze. When I look up, he’s got a smirk on his face. “We would’ve been here all night and missed the dinner.”
“Sorry.” The word falls from my lips in a breath, because his hand is searing into my skin, making the urge to touch him overwhelming. With Bev watching us, I need to get his hand off my leg before I throw myself at him. I quickly announce, “Let’s go.”
This buys me one more squeeze before he stands.
Holy shit, it’s going to be a long night.
“Pictures!” Bev demands.
I turn slowly and tip my head, giving her a small smile.
Bev puts her hands up and flips them toward one another. “You too, Crew. Get in there—the two of you make one handsome couple. The White House won’t know what hit ‘em. Maybe you’ll end up on the news.”
The next thing I know, a large warm hand slides around my waist. I look up and there he is, pulling me to his side. He holds me snug and I warm all over. Trying not to think about it, but thinking about it all the same, I like how I fit against him. It’s been a long time since I’ve been held close by a man, but I don’t remember fitting like this. I’ve never been with anyone as tall as Crew. He looks down at me, our eyes a mere five inches apart. The side of his mouth tips before he looks back to our photographer.
I look back at Bev and she’s grinning while pointing her camera at us, clicking away. After at least ten clicks, I pull away from the warmth of his body. “Thanks, I think you got it, Bev.”
I return her cheek kiss and slip through the door Crew’s holding for me. But once I step outside, I stop, again surprised. “Is this your car?”
Crew moves around me and down the steps. When he reaches the passenger door, he opens it, sort of complaining, “Yeah. Let’s get a move on, Addison. Traffic’s gonna be a nightmare.”
“You match his car!” Bev declares.
Holy shit. I do match his car.
Crew is standing with the door open to a sexy, silver sports coupe, but I don’t recognize the model. Slowly, I move down the steps, listening to Bev clicking away, capturing the moment like the paparazzi.
“What kind of car is this?” I ask when I reach the opened door.
“Jag F-Type,” he answers as I settle in as modestly as possible in the low seat. But modesty isn’t promising when the slit up my thigh tightens, riding up my leg. I certainly didn’t think about transportation when picking my outfit.
“Bye—” Bev’s yell is broken off as he slams my door. Looking out my window, I smile as she waves excitedly from my doorstep.
When Crew bends to slide in next to me, I realize how small his car is by his nearness. And with his height, I’m surprised to see him fit comfortably behind the wheel. He presses a button and the engine purrs to life. I turn, waving at Bev one last time as he pulls out.
Silence engulfs us as the car come to a stop at the entrance of the winery. There’s no traffic and I’m about to ask what’s wrong, when I feel a warm touch on my bare knee. I look down and the tips of his fingers are barely caressing my skin, making my eyes dart up in surprise.
He slowly pulls his hand away, once again leaving goosebumps in their wake. His voice comes out low when he utters, “Never carpooled with anyone more beautiful than you, Addison.”
I try to be flippant to lighten the heavy mood in the car. “Do you carpool a lot?”
A hint of a smile teases me, thinking might get the dimple, but I don’t. “No, I guess I should correct myself and say, I’ve never done anything with anyone more beautiful than you. Ever.”
