Page 56 of The Suit

I sprinted downstairs to assess what our chef had surprised me with. I didn’t find him, though I did find an array of fragrances coming from several pans on the burners in his kitchen, each one filling my mouth with more saliva as I passed by on the way to the cold, creaky wine cellar built underneath the house.

Rows and rows of bottles, organized according to color, grape, boldness and price all labeled methodically ran the length of the walls, but there was only one I had any interest in; a Pinot Noir from a tiny vineyard in Sonoma the boys and I discovered one weekend after we’d attended a Yankees/Giants game. According to the vineyard owner, it could only ever be appreciated to its full extent when sipped next to the ocean. As such, we only ever drank it when we were here. Every year, the vineyard owner sent his entire cellar to us, in exchange for Murray’s help with commercializing another of his grapes – which could now be found in several of the more premium grocery stores across America.

I grabbed half a dozen bottles and took them back upstairs, returning for a couple of bottles of rosé, white, and champagne, when I realized I had no idea what Beulah drank, or what she liked.

Or anything at all.

I glanced at my watch; I’d been gone twenty minutes. I should probably check on her once I’d opened this bottle.

She appeared just as I pulled the cork, sporting that same weird, uncomfortable expression she’d had since I found her in the hospital. I also couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t wearing anything I’d laid out for her; not the bikinis, the weird floaty sack dresses, not even the shortshorts and t-shirt I thought I’d done such a great job in selecting.

No.

What she had done, however, was go throughmywardrobe. She had on one of my t-shirts, and nothing else, even if it was so big it almost brushed the tops of her knees.

Her hair was wet and scraped back from her face, clear and smooth without a lick of makeup, and looking so fresh and clean that my dick instantly hardened with thoughts of dirtying her up.

I’d never seen anything sexier, and from the way her tight nipples were poking against the fabric, I’d say she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Hey.”

“You know, I did leave you plenty of clothes on the bed.”

I put down the bottle and wandered over to where she seemed to be stuck in the doorway. As I got closer, I could see it was one of the t-shirts made for houseguests - a little illustration of the house, with the name embroidered underneath. If she wanted, I’d give her a hoodie and sweatpants to go with it. I couldn’t stop myself from running the hem of the shirt through my fingers, listening to her breath catch as I purposefully grazed against her bare thigh.

“Whose was all that?”

“Yours if you want it.” Her face told me she didn’t. “My sisters like to shop.”

She stepped back, aggressively crossing her arms. “You can’t just give me their stuff.”

“They won’t even notice, and you need some things to wear this weekend.” I tugged gently on the shirt.

The grip she had on herself loosened slightly and her shoulders dropped, making me briefly wonder what she looked like when she was totally relaxed, something I added to the unexpected list I’d started to mentally build of things I wanted to see from her.

“If I stay, I can go into the town and buy some.”

“Fine, whatever you want to do, but it’ll save you the trip.”

She didn’t argue again, but instead peered round me. “Was that wine you were opening?”

I grinned, “Why yes, it was. Would you care for some? I also have chilled rosé and white for you, as well as champagne.” She responded with a single raised eyebrow, to which I replied with a shrug. “I didn’t know what you liked.”

“Red will be fine. “

“Come with me then, because this red will blow your mind,” I promised, grabbing the bottle and two glasses in one hand, her hand in the other, and led her out to the back veranda, where Pierre had left snacks for us.She sat down on one of the outdoor loungers, sinking into the squashy fabric with what I swear was a sigh.

I poured her a glass then took my own seat opposite her, and we sipped in silence while we watched the waves crash along the beach, splashing anyone walking past. The silence was perfectly fine, because beyond the sex from the past week, I realized we hadn’t spent any time together where civil conversation was required. I wasn’t even sure if she could be civil, or if I could.

I also wasn’t sure if we’d ever had a conversation…

How does one even begin a conversation with a nemesis?

“Do you come here a lot?”

I guess it was a start.

I leaned back into the lounger, getting comfortable. “Sometimes, not a lot. There’s usually one of my siblings here though, except Rory, unless there’s someone else here to monitor him. But I always have Memorial weekend.”

---