And then she stepped into his view. Cute yet rugged. Simple yet pretty. The woman crossed her arms and shook her head at Priscilla the waitress. Ben took the opportunity to check out the rest of…Al. Her jeans were too big, and hung on a frame that promised to be full and athletic, not beanpole thin like the socialites usually interested in him. Or rather, in his family name. She unzipped her bulky winter coat revealing an unbuttoned plaid flannel shirt, and a white thermal shirt stretched thin in all the right places. Definitely not the fashion attire he was used to seeing on women.
Dark, chestnut hair pulled back tight revealed fair skin and large, brown eyes that twinkled in frustrated amusement.
“I’ll go put this order in while you two get acquainted. I’ll put in your usual as well, honey. Why don’t you sit with our new friend,” Priscilla said before turning on her heels with a quiet laugh.
“You’ll have to forgive Priscilla. She’s the town matchmaker. And she thinks she’s psychic.”
“You must be Al?”
“Alexis. Al was an old high school nickname.” She stuck out her hand and he took it in his. Instead of soft, delicate skin, a warm, calloused hand squeezed his tightly. “Visiting family? We don’t get many tourists in January.”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“I’ll leave you to your brunch then.”
“Wait,” he said to Alexis’s retreating back. “Care to keep me company?”
Her ponytail swished as she shook her head. “You don’t have to—”
“I wouldn’t mind some company. I’d love to hear about the town, if you have time. You’re local?”
“What gave it away?” Alexis laughed and her face softened even more. Her skin was pale, as expected in the winter, with a hint of freckles peppering her nose. He could imagine them coming out full and strong in the summer. Her hands gave her away as a working woman, and for some odd reason he wanted to get to know her more.
“Your accent?” He couldn’t pin down the reason why. Maybe it was because she seemed so…fresh. So clean. So…real. There wasn’t a fakeness about her like he’d witnessed too many times on women. Alexis gave off a vibe as if she didn’t care what the world thought of her, but not in a rebel kind of way. It was more of a pureness. She was refreshing after all he’d been through back in California.
* * *
“Nice try.” Alexis pulled out the seat across from him and thanked Priscilla when she set a cup of coffee in front of her. She left them alone, another quiet giggle escaping her lips as she walked away.
“Like you said, not many tourists about now, and Priscilla knew you by name, as well as your usual order.”
“Observant. I like that.”
Ben grinned and sipped his coffee. He debated telling her why he was here, but didn’t want to reveal any secrets if Shane didn’t want the community, or possibly his neighboring wineries, to know about his financial troubles.
“So what is it that you do, Alexis?”
“My family owns Coastal Vines. I help run the place.”
Ben choked on his coffee. The daughter Shane had warned him about. The one who wanted nothing to do with an expansion.
“You okay?”
“Yup. Wrong pipe.” He banged his fist on his chest and sighed in relief when their food came out. It would serve as a distraction while he thought up a temporary story to feed Alexis.
“It’s mostly lobsters and blueberries around here. And the best ocean views in the state. You’ll have to come back in July. This place gets packed. Nothing compared to Rockland or the other big cities. Just enough, you know?”
“I bet that draws a big crowd to your winery.” His throat grew thick as he hedged for information.
“Yeah, it’s our busiest selling season. We have a limited harvest in the fall but it’s worth it. Best job in the world.”
“What is it that you do there?” He knew but he enjoyed how her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she talked about her winery.
“Uh, everything.” Alexis bit into her bacon and moaned. “I could live on bacon, coffee, and wine. Cheese would be nice, too.”
If that’s how the woman ate on a regular basis she had to work like a horse to stay so trim. He appreciated her love of food and drink. Again, the open honesty about Alexis was refreshing.
“Know anything about wines?”
“A bit.”
“Let me guess. You’re a beer man, and only pick up a bottle of red to impress a woman.”
“You’re stereotyping me?” he teased.
“You don’t look like a wine drinker.”
“And what exactly does a wine drinker look like?” Intrigued by the adorable woman across from him, he slid his plate to the side and rested his elbows on the table. His mother would be ashamed at his poor table manners, but he didn’t think anyone at the Sunrise Diner would be aghast.
“Older.”
“I’m over twenty-one.”
“I don’t doubt that. Most of our visitors are graying. Retirees. Or nearing it. You don’t find many men in their twenties or thirties sipping on wine unless they’re on a date trying to impress a woman.”
“Interesting.”
“You’ve got more of a rugged look. Marlboro Man minus the cigarettes. You don’t smoke, do you?”
“I’ve had three cigars in my life. One the night before my sister married. Another when my niece was born, and the third when I started my own company.”
“Congratulations. On all three accounts. What is it you do?”
“I’d like to hear more about your stereotype.”
Alexis scooped the rest of her eggs in her mouth and chewed, then swallowed. She ran her tongue across her teeth and took a sip of coffee before continuing. He liked how comfortable she seemed around him. He studied her as he ate, hoping she’d continue with their playful and snippy conversation.
“It’s the five o’clock shadow and tanned thing you have going on.”
He ran his hand across his stubble. “I’ve been traveling.”
“And drinking beer. IPA? We have a few breweries in Maine. I can give you some names if you’d like. Dark or pale ale? I’d say dark. You have that dark, mysterious thing going on.”
Ben tipped his head back and laughed. Alexis Le Blanc was a breath of fresh air. She held her own, spoke her mind, and wasn’t afraid to let her hair down, figuratively. He imagined what it would look like down, swirled around her shoulders. On his pillow.
“I like my beer pale and my wine robust.”
“Robust? Hmm, maybe you do know your wine.”
“Care to put me to the test?”
She leaned forward, excitement dancing in her chocolate eyes. “Sure. What is a—”
“A real test. Dinner tonight.”
Alexis shot back in her chair and jerked her head back. “I’m not following.”
“Dinner. We each bring a bottle of wine and cover up the label. See if we can identify the flavors and essence.”
“I’m not inviting you to my house. I don’t even know your name.”
“Ben.” He wouldn’t exactly call what was happening between them flirting, but he’d like to see where this would lead.
She crossed her arms, relaxing into her chair and pursed her lips. “Well, then, Ben, even though I hardly know you, let me tell you where I live so you can kidnap, butcher, and bury me in a shallow grave.”
“Ground’s too cold to dig a hole, and I’m not a fan of blood. Gives me the willies.” He held his mug up for a refill and Priscilla hustled over, topping both their coffees. Alexis did that thing again, sliding her tongue across her teeth, and studied him. He stared back and sipped his coffee, nearly burning his tongue. “Damn, that’s hot.”
“You didn’t ask for iced coffee.”
He could see the wheels spinning in Alexis’s head. She wanted to accept the challenge, he knew, and held back a victorious smile when she gave in.
“Fish on the Wharf has BYOB. I’ll meet you there tonight at sev
en. Loser pays the tab.”
Ben pulled out enough bills to cover both their bills and tucked them under his plate. “I accept your challenge.”
Alexis managed to escape her mother’s probing and knowing eye, and snuck off to her apartment after turning down dinner with the ‘rents. She supposed at twenty-nine she should invest in her own place, but the apartment above the tasting room suited her needs just fine.
An open living room, kitchen and eating space, a tiny bathroom barely big enough for a cramped stand-up shower, and a bedroom perfectly spaced for her double bed, dresser, and a coat closet. She didn’t need much hanging space. Her winter coats were the only items she had that needed hangers.
The rest of her wardrobe, work thermals, flannel, and a handful of plain T-shirts, jeans, a few pair of shorts—some for running but most for working—and two pair of black pants, fit in the four drawers of her dresser.
It wasn’t often Alexis went out on dates. None of the locals interested her. She’d grown up with them, played football with them right up through eleventh grade, and talked smack with the best of them. They were more-so her brothers, not love interests.
Not that Ben was anything more than eye candy. Sure, he was handsome in that tall, dark, and mysterious way. Between his jet black hair and over-confident attitude, he should have been dark and imposing, but those eyes…
Ice blue. Like snow banks and icicles glistening in a gorgeous backdrop of a crystal blue sky the day after a wicked nor’easter. That layer of scruff on his face added a rugged edge to his beautifully etched face. She had never swooned over a guy, and she wasn’t about to now. But she could enjoy a hot guy’s company while he tried to show her up.
Alexis chuckled to herself. She hoped the man didn’t have an ego. Or pride issues. She sure the hell didn’t. Not while she was still living with her parents.
Grace had kept her bedroom in the main house, granted her sister was never home so it wasn’t like she was still living at home. Alexis, on the other hand, hadn’t technically left the nest yet.
And there was no need to. She could step out of her apartment and be at work. Not that it felt like work. Testing the grapes, pruning, pressing, bottling, and tasting the wine was no hardship.
It was her life. The smell of the freshly turned earth when planting new seedlings. Measuring, experimenting, and tasting every barrel to make sure it passed the Le Blancs high expectations. It was what made Coastal Vines a long-standing tradition and a tourist hot spot in Crystal Cove.
Not that her little neck of the woods could compete with Rockland or Camden. Still, for a small town, they held their own.
It didn’t happen often, but she’d been on the receiving end of the occasional pick up line from a tourist. It always surprised her. She didn’t wear makeup and dressed for work, not to impress.
She didn’t want to care how she looked; it went against everything she believed in. If a guy couldn’t appreciate her for who she was and what she looked like naturally, screw him. Still, Alexis didn’t need to show up tonight smelling like dirt. She shrugged out of her sports bra and put on her one normal bra; the one with hooks and underwire. The white one with a tiny bow in front. It was as fancy as she got. She tugged on a beige Henley and brushed her hair into a ponytail. Her mother warned her about hair breakage if she wore her hair up all the time, but she couldn’t have it getting in the way of work.
For one-point-two seconds she contemplated wearing it down, or even French braiding it, and decided against it. If anyone saw her they’d make a big to-do over it. Or not recognize her. She slid into her boots, and opened her closet, opting for her navy barn coat instead of the ski jacket. It wasn’t supposed to snow tonight so she didn’t need the waterproof material.
“Be a good boy,” she said to Hemmy, filling his dish with food. “Mama will be home in a couple hours.”
After a few licks to her hand, and a nudge of his head into her waist for a thorough rub, Hemmy ditched her for his food.
Alexis jogged down the stairs that lead to the back of the tasting room and skimmed over the racks. Coastal Vines carried eight varieties of wine. Three whites, four reds, a blush, and hopefully soon, an ice wine.
Ben had said he liked robust, so choosing a red would be too easy for him. To make the night more interesting, she reached for the Hidden Vine and found a blank label to cover it up. It was their best selling white and had a hint of melon.
She grabbed a paper bag and slid the bottle into it, as well as a wine opener. She dug deep in her coat pocket for her keys and locked up behind her. Crime wasn’t an issue in Crystal Cove, but she didn’t need to leave their family’s income open to the public.
The short drive didn’t give her much time to think about how she wanted the night to play out. It had been months since her last date. Or maybe…over a year? Alexis couldn’t remember and didn’t care. Much.
Her summers were busy with taking care of the vines and tourists, not giving her much time to meet anyone. The fall was harvest time, and her winters were fairly shut in, working on recipes, turning the barrels, bottling.
Yeah, Alexis Le Blanc was no sex goddess, and Ben What’s-his-name was a hottie. Their dinner meeting was anything but a date. A challenge, yes. The man was staying nearby on business and bored. He’d be gone soon enough. Which made him the perfect man for Alexis.
She didn’t think she had an itch that needed to be scratched, but she couldn’t ignore the slight tingling she got in her belly when she sat across from Ben at brunch.
Oh, hell, the tingling was lower than her belly, that’s just where it started. An unfamiliar anxiety latched itself onto her hands, and her feet twitched with nervous energy.
Finding a spot close to the front door was not a problem on January ninth. In fact, Alexis was surprised Willie Richmond kept Fish on the Wharf open in the winter months. The locals appreciated it when they wanted a break from their own kitchens, but it wasn’t like Willie was rolling in the dough.
“You coming in?” A deep voice said to her left.
Alexis startled, surprised she hadn’t noticed Ben’s SUV pull up next to her. His body hunched, his face pressed close to the glass of her driver’s side door, his breath forming a warm circle on the window.
“Uh, yup.” Dignified, she was not. Ben stepped back and she opened the door and slid out. “Oh, wait. The wine.” She reached across and found the paper bag sitting on the passenger seat. “Got it.”
“Me, too,” he said with a grin as he held up his bottle, hidden in a brown paper bag as well.
“Well, then. Let’s get this party started.” She opened the door to the restaurant and held it for Ben.
He looked at her skeptically and held his hand on the door high above her head, motioning for her to go first.
Manners. That was nice.
She imagined what he saw through his eyes when they stepped into Willie’s place. Five, four-top scratched wooden tables, each with mismatched chairs, a line of windows looking out over the pier. On a clear, sunny day you could see for miles. Alexis loved watching the sailboats the most.
Tonight, however, all they saw was black. And their reflection. She met Ben’s gaze in the window, and she looked away pretending to scope out the empty place.
“Hey, doll. Haven’t seen you in a while. And you have a man with you.” Willie had grown a potbelly in his retirement, yet kept his bushel of white hair and hardworking hands.
“Don’t go starting rumors, Willie. Remember, I have my share of dirt on you.”
“This one.” Willie pointed a condemning finger at her, but the twinkle in his eye said he was only teasing. “You keep your eye on her. She’s fast. And smart. Not as tough as she likes you boys to think though.”
“I hear Pizza Hut is still open if you’d rather have Italian,” Alexis said to Ben, pretending to ignore Willie.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Willie shook his finger at her.
“Whatdoyasay? Pizza or seafood?”
Catch
ing on fast to her joking, Ben played along. “Fish sticks were my favorite food as a kid. I used to eat them frozen.”
“That’s disgusting.” She curled her lip in distaste.
“Over my dead body,” Willie warned. “This boy needs real food. You two sit your asses down and I’ll make ya a fisherman’s platter. Help yerself to the glasses. I’m not a damn waitress.”
When Willie left through the swinging white doors Alexis took down two wine glasses from a self-serve cabinet and brought them over to the table where Ben stood.
“He’s a character.”
“Willie retired from lobstering seven years ago and drove his wife Helen nearly insane. She was used to having the house to herself, and Willie was used to being up at three and not home until supper. They were at each other’s throats all day. She forced him to find a hobby, get a job, or move out.”
“So he moved out?” Ben took a wine opener from his coat pocket and began to uncork his bottle, still hidden in the paper bag.
“Nope. He cooked to stay busy. Invited over anyone and everyone, partly to piss off Helen, and partly for the entertainment. Helen told him he’d better start charging people to eat before they went broke. When this place opened up, he rented it, dirt cheap since he’s a local favorite, and they’ve been in marital retired bliss ever since.”
“See, it’s those kind of local stories that sell…papers.” He sniffed the cork like an expert then held it out to her.
“You’re a journalist?”
“Not exactly. I’m going to get us some water.”
Alexis watched as his tall, strong body hunched just a tad, his shoulders slouching instead of broad and strong like they were a few minutes ago. And those gorgeous eyes of his lost their sparkle for a fraction of a second. Not long, but long enough for Alexis to notice a difference. The easy-going guy she’d met at the Sunrise Diner had a thin layer of nerves now. Maybe Ben realized he’d challenged himself against a woman who’d been opening bottles of wine and smelling corks since she was six. Not that he could know that.
At First Blush (A Well Paired Novel Book 1) Page 2
