Page 31 of The Vineyard Crush

With agonizing slowness, he brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along the throbbing pulse point of my captured wrist, igniting pinprick blazes in its wake. My breath hitched at the simple yet devastatingly intimate caress.

“Unless…” His voice lowered to a gravel-rough timbre that flooded my veins with pure sin. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me, little flower.”

Oh sweet mercy. Waves of liquid heat lapped through my throbbing center as my name rolled off his tongue in that rugged satin rasp. My knees threatened to buckle, held upright solely by the steel band of Ridge’s grip and the banked promise blazing in his darkening gaze.

“I…uh…” Smooth, Emma. Very coherent.

A ragged exhale huffed past my parted lips, the smallest of smiles playing across Ridge’s beautifully carved mouth. Slowly, deliberately, he tugged me closer, near enough to feel the thrum of his body’s virile heat through the thin cotton of my sundress.

This close, his earthy, masculine scent - leather, sandalwood, and something headier, muskier - enveloped me in a drugging cloud. My free hand drifted upward of its own volition, fingers skimming the ridged plane of his abdomen through the soft, worn henley…

Somewhere in the room, a tiny bark echoed, reminding us of the two kids and Scooby still very much present in the office. I jolted away from Ridge’s overwhelming presence as if doused with a bucket of ice water, abruptly snapping back to reality. Scrambling behind my desk, I busied myself unnecessarily rearranging the clutter atop the polished cherry wood surface.

Playtime was over. At least for now.

“Um…you here to see my mom?” I asked in a strained attempt at nonchalance, clearing my throat loudly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the barest hint of Ridge tugging the brim of his battered Stetson lower, shielding his chiseled features in shadow. But not before I glimpsed the unmistakable stain of crimson tingeing those razor-cut cheekbones.

The man was blushing. Bless him.

“Yes,” he replied, gruff and terse, all playful flirtation abruptly shuttered away.

I lifted my gaze, arching an inquisitive brow. “There some problem you need help with?”

For a split second, Ridge’s forest green eyes flashed with an unreadable emotion before the shuttered mask slammed back into place. “No…uh. My mum had something sent over for her.”

“Ah, I see.” My shoulders slumped slightly as the tension bled out of the room like a deflating balloon. “So nothing too earth-shattering then?”

Ridge’s gaze skated away, suddenly finding great interest in studying a random placard on the wall. “Not particularly. Just…Mother being Mother, you know how she is.”

I did indeed know how Mother was - better than anyone, perhaps. While her rigid upbringing and militaristic ways could often feel oppressive, there was no denying the deep well of love and concern that fueled it all.

My own hard-scrabble childhood on the ranch had instilled a similar protectiveness over the small brood gathered in this very room. Perhaps that was why the palpable chemistry between Ridge and I kept simmering so close to the surface. We were simply two rudders cut from the same implacable stock.

“Daddy, I’m still hungry,” Cody announced with a plaintive whine, tugging on the hem of Ridge’s shirt. “And I think Scooby needs to go potty.”

“Yeah, and smell is getting rank up in here.” Lily poked her brother in the shoulder, eliciting a squawk of protest.

Rolling my eyes skyward, I bit back an exasperated sigh. So much for the simmering promise of just moments ago. Some things were simply more important than chasing the tendrils of unrequited desire.

As Cody and Lily continued their incessant bickering, I caught Ridge’s eye and shrugged in wry resignation. A muscle ticked in the granite line of his jaw before he dipped his chin in the tiniest of nods, his silent reply seeming to say, Duty calls.

Dropping his hand to rest atop Cody’s mop of sun-bleached curls, Ridge effectively silenced the argument with a solitary quelling glance. “Alright, y’all heard the man. Let’s get you two fed and the Labb walked before something else starts stinkin’ around here.”

Cody opened his mouth - no doubt to complain about being included in that remark - but evidently thought better of it after receiving another patented dad stare. Reluctantly, he turned and trudged out of the office with Scooby in tow, muttering under his breath the whole way.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Need any help wrangling that duo?”

Three sets of eyes turned my way with equally inscrutable looks. Ridge’s, in particular, seemed to bore straight through to my restless soul, those moss-green depths brimming with undisguised yearning warring alongside familiar paternal obligation.

A heavy pause stretched between us, thick and laden with unspoken promises. Just as it verged on unbearable, he cleared his throat and ducked his chin, once more retreating behind the safety of his Stetson’s brim.

“Naw, you best stay put,” he drawled in that sinful, sandpaper rasp that caressed every nerve ending. “Wouldn’t want you gettin’ drawn into our chaotic nonsense.”

My heart damn near stopped at the almost-pleading glint in those emerald depths. For all his bravado and flirtatious sallies, there was still a tenuous sliver of uncertainty thrumming through Ridge’s stoic reserve. An infinitesimal shiver raced down my spine at the unguarded glimpse behind that implacable facade.

My smile deepened into something warmer, richer - an intimate expression shared between only us. “Somehow I doubt the ‘nonsense’ could ever be that off-putting, Cowboy.” I whisper but he was already out the door.

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