by Shelia Grace
“This is all I’ve got. Not exactly fancy. Is it okay?”
“You look beautiful,” I said hoarsely.
“You clean up pretty nicely yourself, Professor Bennett.”
I gave her a sharp look.
“What? You don’t want people to know you’re seducing undergrads?” she asked mildly. “Don’t worry. If anyone asks, I’m a twenty-four-year-old Master’s student in the English program.”
“My sister already knows about you.”
Alex blinked.
“You told your sister about me?”
“Had to,” I laughed. “The dress you’re wearing is hers.”
“Oh shit! I’m borrowing your sister’s dress?”
“Not quite. My sister’s only half a foot taller than you are.”
Alex shook her head.
“But you said the dress was hers.”
“Her design,” I corrected.
“Becca Gray. Your sister is Becca?”
“She is.”
Alex swallowed.
“Julie said this dress cost—”
“Would you stop worrying?” I laughed.
“I can’t. It’s a genetic trait—dominant on my mother’s side.”
I nodded toward the door and took her hand as I called Finn.
“He’s coming with?” Alex asked.
I nodded.
“I was going to drop him off with a friend, but it’s easier just to take him.”
We walked outside, and I locked the door. When I started walking toward the SUV at the curb, Alex stopped.
“That’s yours, too?” she asked with an air of shock and condemnation of my clearly profligate lifestyle.
“I borrowed it.”
Popping the back, I waited for Finn to jump in. Then I went around and opened Alex’s door. She sat down smiled at me, and I felt a rush of anticipation.
She had said no sex, but I was going to watch her come tonight.
Chapter 15
Alex
Going with Ryan to his parents’ event was an epically bad idea, and I knew it. Of course, I had had bad ideas before … thinking I wanted to be a doctor being number one. But my decision to go with him might knock pre-med off the top spot.
I glanced over at him as he drove. The term Egyptian sun god came to mind. He had already loosened his tie, the color of which just happened to match his unbelievably blue eyes. The first couple of buttons of his dress shirt were undone, exposing the golden skin underneath, and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off him. Of course, this made the whole “just friends” thing seem kind of silly. But what other choice did I have?
My options sucked. Yesterday I could have held my ground and told Ryan to fuck off. Or I could have forgotten about the whole being in love thing and just slept with him. Instead, I had gone the completely psycho route and decided to try to be friends with someone I couldn’t stop thinking about. Real smart, Alex.
Ryan merged onto the freeway, and I realized that the only person who knew I was with him tonight was Julie. During my brief conversation with Mom last night, I hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to tell her that I was in love with someone ten years older, because it was easy to imagine the speed with which she would have gotten in the 4Runner and floored it the entire four hundred miles across the state of California to yank me out of school.
It didn’t matter that I had been the most absurdly boring teenager ever. Or maybe that’s why I knew Mom would flip out. If I ever did something crazy, she would think I had lost my goddamned mind. Alexis Reed was boring, dependable, and completely invisible to the opposite sex—until my library stalker, followed by Ryan Bennett. Which, of course, made me wonder again if being stalked was the only reason Ryan had even looked at me twice. I cleared my throat, and Ryan looked over at me.
One look from him, and my heart raced. That was how bad I had it.
“So I forgot to ask you where your parents’ place is.”
“In Sonoma.”
“Oh. … Did you grow up there?”
He nodded.
“Mostly. I spent summers in France for several years.”
“Ah, oui? Vraiment?” I joked.
He asked me a question in rapid-fire French, and I blushed, shaking my head.
“I do okay on the homework, but my French basically sucks. Three years in high school and pretty much all I can say is, J’écoute à la radio.”
Ryan smiled.
“Tu écoutes la radio,” he corrected.
“Seriously? I have no idea why I decided to double major. Second biggest mistake after the pre-med thing, I swear.”
“It’s an easy mistake to make. You’re too hard on yourself. In French, the verb already contains the preposition to, so you don’t need to add it again.”
“You mean all this time I’ve been saying, ‘I listen to-to the radio’? That’s fantastic. Okay, I’m done embarrassing myself. Tell me about your family. You have a sister, Becca. And your parents?”
“Richard and Kathleen Bennett, married forty years this May,” he sighed.
“Do you … get along with them?”
It felt like such a silly question. He was twenty-eight, not twelve.
“When they’re not treating me like a wayward adolescent, sure,” he said dryly.
My pulse spiked.
“And what are they going to think about you showing up with me?”
“They’ll think I have good taste.”
I blushed and looked down.
“Did you send a Valentine’s Day card to your sister?” Ryan asked.
I looked over at him, startled that he remembered.
“Yeah, it was kind of a half-assed effort this year, but I would have felt bad if I didn’t do it. She’s probably getting too old for it. I’m sure she’s more worried whether the boys in her class like her.”
He nodded and glanced out the window.
“I wanted to take you for a walk around the grounds, but I don’t know if those heels would survive it.”
I laughed.
“Yeah? Well, I don’t know if I’m going to survive these heels.”
It was already dark, and we stayed on the freeway for about a half hour before Ryan merged onto another highway toward Sonoma/Napa. Wine country. After that, I pretty much lost track of where we were. Another twenty minutes or so passed—with my nerves getting worse and worse—before Ryan pulled onto a long driveway lined with trees lit up by twinkling lights. We drove through a stone archway, and I looked up at the wrought-iron sign. Bennett Family Cellars. I swallowed. Holy shit.
On the way up the winding hill, I could just make out the outline of grapevines beyond the road. Finn yipped in the back, and I turned and looked at him. Right now, given the choice, I would have gladly spent the night hanging out with Ryan’s dog instead of going to a fancy party.
We pulled up to an enormous Mediterranean-style building, and a man in a valet jacket came running up. There were luxury vehicles all over the place, and I started having my own little private panic attack as Ryan waved the guy on and kept driving. He drove around the back of the main building until he reached a more industrial-looking structure. When he parked and got out, I froze. The back of the SUV popped open, and I heard Finn jump out. Seconds later Ryan was at my side opening the door. I didn’t move until he reached across me and unbuckled the seatbelt before taking my hand. I stepped out, careful not to catch my heels-of-death on anything, and Ryan offered his arm.
“Welcome to Bennett Family Cellars,” he said.
“Please don’t let me fall on my face,” I whispered.
“Never,” he smiled.
“Where’s Finn?”
Ryan shrugged.
“He’ll turn up.”
He took out his phone and began texting someone as we walked toward the main building. Then I watched as he took out a set of keys, smiling as he unlocked a door that said Employees Only. When he held out his hand for me to go ahead of him, I stepped into the room, wh
ich looked like an industrial kitchen prep area, bustling with people in white and black. Ryan led me through another door, and we ended up at one end of an enormous room jammed with people. Ryan lifted his hand and waved at someone, and my nerves ratcheted up again when I saw a gorgeous woman—an insanely tall, gorgeous woman—striding toward us. She was wearing a bright red cocktail dress that was—wow. Plus, she was almost as tall as Ryan in her heels.
“So this must be your plus-one, baby brother.” She turned to me, her blue eyes—like Ryan’s—twinkling. “Alex? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Becca.”
She held out her hand, and I took it.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“You’re so tiny!” she said.
“I definitely didn’t get the tall genes like you two,” I laughed.
Becca nudged her brother and pointed across the room.
“When you get a chance, can you tell your friend over there that he’s at a winery, not a bar. He’s going to be shit-faced before ten.”
I looked in the direction she was pointing and saw Ryan’s friend James at the bar knocking back a shot. Standing next to him was a bored-looking woman holding a glass of white wine. I recognized her instantly. Ryan’s ex-fiancée. She was so well manicured that it made my chest squeeze. I looked back at Ryan’s sister, grateful for the dress I was wearing, particularly since my other option had been jeans.
“Becca, thank you so much for the dress.”
Ryan leaned toward me.
“Alex, don’t tell her that. My sister owes me for being the sibling who takes the brunt of our parents’ disapproval.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” she cried.
I laughed, and she turned back to me.
“Alex, have a glass of wine. I won’t tell anyone.” She winked and then saw someone across the room. “Duty calls. Senator!”
With a wave, she began striding across the room toward a gray-haired man. I looked down, wishing I could be like that—totally fearless. Maybe it would help if I happened to be six-feet tall and gorgeous. I turned to Ryan and smiled.
“Your sister’s great.”
I felt stupid for even saying it. She didn’t need my approval. Ryan took my hand.
“Come on. Let’s get a drink before one of my parents finds us.”
That was actually the last thing I wanted to do, because it meant getting closer to Ryan’s ex and James McDevitt. I tried to concentrate on the most important thing, which was not tripping and killing myself in these heels. When Ryan approached the bar, I fell back a little, watching as he put his arm around his friend’s shoulder. He said something quickly in James’s ear. Then I watched James spin around with a drink in his hand. His dark eyes locked onto me.
“Alex!” he bellowed, like I was some sort of long, lost relative.
He started walking toward me, but Ryan caught the back of his suit.
“Not the time or the place for it, McDevitt,” Ryan whispered sharply. “Deal with the date you brought here.”
Ryan let him go, and James took the last couple of steps toward me, leaning forward and kissing my cheek.
“It’s good to see you again,” he whispered in my ear.
He smelled of hard alcohol and cologne. In other words: overwhelming—kind of like his personality. Ryan gave him a light shove, and James turned back and looked at me once before sauntering back over to his friend’s extremely pissed-off-looking ex. A second later Ryan handed me a glass of red wine, and I gave him a look.
“Were you and your buddy running a contest to see who could bring the most inappropriate date? ’Cause I think he won.”
Ryan shrugged.
“I knew he was bringing Gretchen.”
“You knew he was bringing your ex? Whatever happened to don’t go for your friend’s ex, et cetera, et cetera? Isn’t that part of the guy code?”
“Only if the guy in question gives a shit, and I don’t.”
He held up his glass of wine and touched it to mine.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“That was yesterday,” I pointed out.
“Well, this is my do-over.”
I took a sip and nearly choked when a large hand—not Ryan’s—came down on my shoulder.
“What do you taste?”
Turning, I saw a handsome man with steel-gray hair dressed in an impeccable suit. He was at least ten years older than my own parents, very tall, and very obviously Ryan Bennett’s father.
“Um, dark chocolate, sir.”
I frowned. I had never called anyone sir in my life. My parents were kind of hippies, and my friends had always just called them Stephen and Michelle. On the other hand, it seemed way inappropriate to call Ryan’s father by his first name, considering I had never even met the man.
“I’m impressed, young lady.”
I reddened.
“Thank you.”
“Dad, this is Alex Reed.”
His father reached out his hand, which I took. His father’s hand was massive, like Ryan’s, and I felt like I was visiting the land of the giants.
“I’m Richard. It’s very nice to meet you, Alex.”
When a man with an earpiece arrived next to Mr. Bennett, Ryan’s dad smiled and excused himself. I took a quick swig of my wine and glanced at Ryan.
“Sir?” Ryan laughed.
I gave him a crooked smile.
“I don’t know what came over me.”
“That’s Richard Bennett, inspiring formality.”
I detected a hint of scorn in Ryan’s tone, but I decided it was better not to ask. Looking across the room, I saw Ryan’s friend James nursing a drink next to his unhappy date, who was sulking as she sucked down another glass of wine. When James saw me looking, he raised his glass.
Smarmy dickhead.
Servers were moving through the room with large trays containing a dangerous number of glasses filled with red wine. When a woman came by and offered glasses to us, Ryan set his empty on the tray and took two, placing my barely sipped glass of wine on the closest surface.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us this evening,” Ryan’s father said from a small stage across the room. Next to him, there was a tall, stately woman with golden hair like his sister’s, only hers was shorter. Ryan’s mother. “Our vines may be dormant at this point in the season, but this is still a pivotal time of year for us as we prepare for spring. The vintage you hold in your hands this evening is of special significance to our family, a reserve dedicated to our eldest son, Reece. If he were with us today, I imagine he would be running Bennett Family Cellars. Now please, everyone. Raise a glass and join me in toasting Reece and the future of winemaking in Sonoma County.”
In a daze, I blinked and slowly turned to Ryan. His features had turned to ice, and the wine glass that had been full a few seconds ago was empty.
“Ryan?”
He turned to me with a twisted smile that told me he was going to brush off any attempt at sympathy.
“Do you want to take a walk?” I asked. “I need air.”
He stared at me like I had just barked like a dog. Then, slowly he nodded and took my hand. As we weaved through the crowd, I tried to absorb this new information. Before tonight, Ryan had just been my incredibly hot TA. To think of him as a brother, a son—and someone who had lost his older brother—was strange. It made me think of everything hidden beneath all of us, the things we carried with us and never told other people about. It made me feel lonely. We were almost to the front door when the woman I had seen on the stage intercepted us.
“Ryan Bennett. Both your father and your sister have met your young friend. Am I not to expect the same courtesy?”
Ryan’s mother was beautiful, like an older, more delicate version of his sister. But she had a coldness to her that scared me, and I couldn’t help noticing her description of me. Young friend. It was accurate, but pointed.
“Alex Reed, meet my mother, Kathleen Bennett.”
“Alex?” she asked with
a raised eyebrow.
“Alexis,” I said quietly, very aware that I was not passing her appraisal.
She turned to Ryan.
“Have you seen Gretchen this evening?”
I looked down, wishing I could sink into the floor.
“Yes, I did—and that was enough for me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep a gurgle of laughter from rising to the surface.
“Ryan!” she scolded.
“Are we done, Mother?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He took my hand and began leading me toward the door, stopping at a table and grabbing two empty wine glasses from a display before pulling me outside. The air outside was cold, but at least it wasn’t raining. I shivered and wished for jeans. Ryan took off his jacket and draped it around my shoulders.
“Your mom seemed—”
“Bitchy? Cold? Passive aggressive?”
“I was going to say unhappy.”
“My mother is always unhappy. I call it her perpetual state of being.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s a terrible way to live.”
He led me back to one of the outlying buildings and opened the door. It was dark when we stepped inside until Ryan flicked on a row of florescent lights. I watched as he picked up a crowbar and pried open a crate. He pulled out a bottle of wine and gestured for me to follow him back outside. As we walked toward the edge of the grounds, I looked up and saw that the sky was mostly clear. We reached a gazebo that must have had an amazing view during the day. Even now, though, under the pale moonlight, I could see most of the grounds, bleached colorless by the moon. I jumped when a cold, wet nose hit my bare thigh. Looking down, I saw Finn.
“Hey, buddy.”
Ryan had already opened the bottle of wine with an opener that he must have been keeping on his keys. He poured me a miniscule glass of wine and helped me up the stairs of gazebo. The heels were killing me, so I slid them off.
“Alex?”
I looked over at Ryan. His blue eyes were shining in the moonlight.
“Thank you for coming with me. Without you here, tonight would have been …” He shook his head. “It was better with you here.”
