Page 67 of The Vineyard Crush

Ridge’s arm like a steely band looped around my waist, hauling me flush against the unyielding planes of his chest. The solid strength of his frame provided dizzying, dizzying contrast to the exquisite tenderness of his questing tongue stroking mine in unhurried, rapturous exploration.

Just as my lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen, Ridge gentled his smoldering kisses to several soft, reverent brushes of his full lips. Gradually, I became aware of the pounding thrum of his heart thundering against my own, our mingled breaths emerging in harsh little pants.

Finally, his kiss-swollen mouth broke from mine, trailing a blazing path of butterfly kisses along the slope of my neck. The bristle of his beard abraded my oversensitized skin in the most delicious way, drawing forth another breathy whine. “Shhh, sweet girl,” he rumbled against my pulse point, tongue laving the hammering beat he found there. “No more doubts tonight, darlin’. Not about this—about us.”

One large, calloused hand drifted from my flushed cheeks to trail down the curve of my spine in a maddeningly deliberate caress, as though committing every precious inch of me to memory. My back arched instinctively, pressing my pliant form harder against his unyielding strength as I shivered.

Ridge’s mouth found mine once more in a series of searing, sonnet-worthy kisses that robbed me of any remaining coherent thought. All that existed was the blazing, exhilarating rightness of finally being in his arms—a feeling more intoxicating than the finest-aged cabernet and twice as dizzying.

When at long last he lifted his head, eyes glittered with a kaleidoscope of tender adoration, white-hot want, and solemn promise. “You’re everything to me, Emma. My sweet, perfect girl.” My name emerged as a fervent benediction on his sinful lips. “I hope I Never give you a chance to doubt how much you mean to me—to us—again.”

Twenty Eight

Ridge

Icouldn’t keep the slight swagger out of my step as I made my rounds across the ranch that morning. After the mind-blowing intimacy I’d shared with Emma the previous night, there was a newfound lightness to my soul that I hadn’t felt in years.

James was watching Avery for me today, giving me some rare freedom to just lose myself in the familiar rhythms of hard ranch work. As I checked over the fence lines, my thoughts inevitably drifted to visions of Emma - flushed and panting beneath me, eyes dark with abandon…

The memories alone were enough to have desire unfurling low in my gut like a slow burn. Fuck, I needed to concentrate before I ended up pitching an obvious tent right here.

Tipping the brim of my hat lower, I forced my attention back to the task at hand. That was until my gaze snagged on the vision of Emma across the way, standing amidst a flurry of activity as she supervised decorations for the upcoming vineyard festival.

My eyes raked over the lush curves of her body like a physical caress, drinking in the graceful lines of her swaying hips, the dip of her waist that my hands knew intimately now. A possessive rumble vibrated in my chest as I watched her gesturing animatedly to the workers alongside the fountain’s trickling waters.

“Who’s that pretty little thing?”

The amused lilt in James’ voice had me nearly jumping out of my skin. I whipped around to find him leaning against the fence post, trademark shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he not-so-subtly ogled Emma’s backside. Avery was perched on his hip, idly playing with the ends of his shaggy hair.

“What are you doing out here?” I bit out, unable to mask the thread of annoyance lacing my tone as the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head.

James feigned an overly innocent look that fooled absolutely no one. “Well, we were gettin’ a bit bored cooped up inside all morning. Thought we’d come enjoy the nice weather…and the scenery.”

He punctuated that with a low whistle of appreciation, gaze shamelessly roving over the gentle swell of Emma’s curves once more. Instantly, twin spots of rage burned high on my cheekbones as a guttural rumble vibrated through my clenched jaw.

“Eyes off, jackass,” I snarled under my breath, fists clenching reflexively at my sides. “You keep leering at her like that and you’re gonna lose ‘em.”

Instead of looking even remotely chastised, James just tossed his head back with a bark of laughter.

“Daddy likes Emmy,” Avery whispered in a conspiratorial stage-whisper, giggling delightedly. “Lily says it’s a secret an’ daddy can’t know we know. But we hope Emmy marries daddy!”

The breath stuttered from my lungs as if I’d been gut-punched. Avery’s innocent words slammed into me with the weight of a sledgehammer, reducing me to gaping at her and James with absolute horror written across my features.

They…knew? But how? I thought we’d been so goddamn careful, taking every precaution to keep our new relationship under wraps and away from prying eyes - especially the girls. We didn’t want to get their hopes up for something permanent until Emma and I figured out what the hell we were doing first.

Yet here was Avery, admitting with childlike candor that she and her sister were already dreaming of Emma becoming their new stepmom.

James watched the emotional rollercoaster flickering across my expression with naked amusement. When I started mumbling a weak protestation about not liking Emma that way, he simply snorted.

“You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, bro. I’ve never seen you get riled up like a possessive bastard over someone else admiring a woman before…” A knowing glint sparked in his gaze as understanding dawned. “Not even when it was your own wife.”

The truth of his words slapped me like a cold bucket of water to the face. My mouth worked soundlessly as I struggled to formulate a denial, an excuse - anything to refute the damning evidence.

But James already had me pegged, the insufferable smug bastard. With a rolling shrug, he jerked his chin towards the direction of Emma’s increasingly shapely backside.

“Go get your girl, Ridgedick. Before someone else snatches up that sweet piece of—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I cut him off with a warning growl, jaw ticking.