Page 13 of The Vineyard Crush

I shot my mother a pointed look, taking in her poorly masked grin of delight at where she’d so conveniently placed me.

“Dammit, Mom,” I muttered under my breath, trying not to audibly call out her scheming even as my body thrummed with an odd mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Don’t act like this isn’t precisely what you want, a taunting inner voice crooned. To be pressed up against all that glorious, smoldering masculinity, drinking in every rugged and tempting inch of him from deliciously close range…

I couldn’t resist shooting Ridge a furtive glance from beneath my lashes as I slid into the chair beside him. Even something as simple as the way he held his utensils in that calloused grip kindled a lascivious curl of want low in my belly.

Get a grip, Emma, you’re being utterly ridiculous right now. He’s your new boss, and more importantly, your friend Ethan’s older brother. This unbecoming infatuation needs to stay locked down before it leads you somewhere you’ll regret.

Clearing my throat, I twisted in my seat toward Ethan, who sat directly across from me next to his wife Chloe. “Hey Ten, Leo called earlier.”

Ethan’s hazel eyes crinkled with a knowing grin. “Yeah, me too about an hour ago. Boss is really putting the screws to him with this big merger thing.”

“Still burning the midnight oil trying to keep up?” I asked with a sympathetic wince.

My brother shook his head with a rueful chuckle. “You know it. I swear, the man hasn’t taken a single day off in months thanks to all the new contracts and client accounts to negotiate.”

I made a noise of commiseration, all too familiar with how driven and demanding Leone could be—especially when it came to his high-powered legal career. The guy had always been gunning to make partners at prestigious firms, ever since we were kids.

Yet no matter how deeply I tried distracting myself with family conversation, I couldn’t quite tune out the scorching male presence beside me. From my peripheral vision, I could make out every thick swell and dip of taut muscle rippling beneath the thin cotton fabric of Ridge’s shirt.

Christ, my insides clenched with scalding need just drinking in that tantalizing view. How was I meant to retain possession of my senses with that level of temptation mere inches away?

Perhaps sensing my wandering focus, Ridge shifted almost imperceptibly nearer until the wiry girth of his thickly muscled arm brushed ever so lightly against mine. The whisper of contact seared through me like an electric jolt, hazing my thoughts until all I could focus on was the heady masculine scent enveloping me.

Sawdust and smoke. Sandalwood and some indescribable wild, earthy musk that was as intoxicating as the finest wine. Just breathing him in made my head spin dizzily until simmering heat lapped through my veins.

You’re in so much trouble, that little voice sing-songed in devilish glee. One skimming graze of his fingertips is all it would take to raze your crumbling barriers to ash. How’re you planning to hold it together with all these lush erotic thoughts overwhelming you, hmm?

Dinner was in full swing, the long wooden table overflowing with platters of savoury meats, fresh salads, and piping hot loaves of bread. We rated each dish, our opinions determining what would grace our seasonal menu.

I listened with one ear as I sipped my wine, my gaze straying constantly to the ruggedly handsome man seated right next to me. His brawny forearms were dusted with a sprinkling of dark hair rippled with each animated gesture, the fabric of his chambray shirt straining against the swell of his sculpted chest. A dusting of dark stubble shaded his chiselled jawline, and I found myself imagining how deliciously abrasive it would feel rasping against my skin as his luscious mouth trailed scorching kisses along my body.

I gave a violent start, my cheeks flaming, when his penetrating stare suddenly found mine. Molten pools of liquid amber blazed from beneath his upswept brow as he held my gaze for a heavy moment.

“Hey,” he rumbled in that sinfully deep baritone that slithered like melted chocolate through my veins. “Thanks for today. I finished up like a week’s worth of work, and Avery had fun. Lily and Cody hated missing out on all the grape fight fun when Avery mentioned it on the call to them.”

I struggled to wet my dry mouth, my tongue leaden as I stammered a reply to the man who had effortlessly commandeered my every thought since the moment we first met. “It—it was all good. I had fun with Avery.” My voice emerged high and reedy, and I fought the urge to cringe. “I love kids anyway. I won’t mind a repeat of it when Lily and Cody want.”

Ridge exhaled a long, weary sigh, those tantalizing lips that I longed to taste forming a grim line. “No more messes, Emma. Especially not all three of them together. They’ll turn my whole place into a junkyard.”

“What if we hose them down in the garden and they change at my shed?” I suggested impulsively.

He regarded me with narrow eyes for a long moment, those scorching amber eyes seeming to penetrate straight through to my soul and ignite a raging inferno in their wake. I shifted in my seat, a delicious warmth blossoming low in my belly as my thighs pressed wantonly together.

“Think you can handle three little hurricanes alone?” he asked at last, his tone a gruff challenge.

A daring smile curved my lips as I arched a brow. “Who said I’d be alone?”

Ridge’s eyes darkened with an indecipherable emotion, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing convulsively as he swallowed hard. A muscle ticked in that shadowed jawline before he abruptly turned away without another word, leaving me to watch the thrilling flexion of his broad back muscles through the thin cotton fabric as he reached for the basket of bread.

Seven

Emma

Ilooked around my shed that is now my home. Clothes spilled out of the overflowing laundry basket, creating a mini mountain range of wrinkled fabrics across the floor. Dirty dishes congregated on every available flat surface - plates encrusted with dried food debris, mugs stained with coffee rings, sticky glasses leaving syrupy residue on my desk.

Paperwork and binders were scattered about in a whirlwind, covering up what little clear workspace remained amidst the clutter. A few balled-up pages here and there hinted at abandoned ideas and futile attempts at organization.

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