Page 4 of Love on the Vine
“Huh.” He drew his hand over his scruff. “Can I see it?”
I opened the cooling oven and we both bent down to peek at it, my head bumping against his as he took in the roasted goose carcass crisscrossed by surgical string—with two additional sets of legs sticking out from the middle—and whistled. “That’s a lot of bird.”
I giggled and fell off balance, catching myself on his thigh. His veryfirmthigh.
Mesmerized by the sight of my hand on it, I squeezed.
With a startled gasp, I jumped up. “Sorry.”
Jake cleared his throat, politely ignoring the fact that I’d just fondled his leg, and turned back to his wine bottles, lining them up neatly on the counter. There was something about the way he handled them with such deftness and delicacy that had my skin humming, wondering what those large hands would feel like around my hips or nudging open my thighs. I was staring again, and when he caught me at it, my ears burned.
“Hmm, I’m not sure what would go best with the . . .” He searched for the word.
“Frankenfowl?” I suggested, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. The dimple was visible under his scruff again, and I wondered how many times I could make it appear tonight.
“Okay, this should do it.” He shuffled the bottles around like a Vegas croupier and set some aside in the fridge. “Can I help you with anything?”
Grateful for his offer, I was about to respond when Dad came strolling in, beer in hand, and clasped Jake on the shoulder. “Come on, bud, leave the cooking to your hosts. I want to hear more about your Shanghai sweethearts.”
“I don’t mind helping,” Jake protested, but Dad was already leading him out.
He shot me an apologetic glance from the doorway, and it dawned on me: Holy shit, the Christmas Curveballwasfor me.
* * *
An hour later, we all sat around the table marveling at the carved Gooduckant. I hid my mouth behind my napkin, so no one would see me laughing, but I caught Jake’s eye when Dad asked if he’d like to carve it and added another dimple sighting to my tally of three.
Brooke, who was vegetarian, groaned dramatically and covered her eyes. “I’ll have more salad. Not too much though. It’ll be swimsuit season before we know it.”
I rolled my eyes. She’d planted herself right next to Jake and had been pestering him with questions all through dinner. As annoying as it was, I had at least learned that he was single, and that he had a very successful business importing French and Italian wines to China.
“So what’s it like living in France? Must be fabulous,” cooed Brooke, leaning closer to Jake.
He shrugged and sounded bored when he answered. “I only spend a couple months a year there. This summer will be the first time we’ve ever been there for an extended period.”
“We?” asked Brooke. God, could she be any more obvious?
“My colleague Jin is coming this summer. It’s just the two of us, and we’ve got some contract renewals coming up. Inventory. Not very interesting.”
My uncles, who were all attorneys like my dad, perked up at that and started grilling Jake about his business. My mind wandered like it always did when talk turned to contracts and negotiations—more proof that I wasn’t cut out for a career in law—until Dad’s voice echoed in my head. “Isn’t that right, Livvy?”
“Um, sorry, what? I wasn’t listening.” Oh God, had I been staring at Jake this whole time?
“Typical,” Noah snickered.
“I said that you’re going to Europe this summer. All by yourself,” Dad repeated, and I cringed.
For him, I’d always be the helpless little girl who’d shown up on his doorstep over a decade ago. Not a twenty-three-year-old adult who’d been living away from home for the past five years. He wasn’t pleased about my plan to spend the summer traveling around Europe. But I was using the money I’d saved over the past two years working as a legal research assistant at a law firm in Ann Arbor. So there was nothing he could do about it.
“No way.” Brooke snorted. “You hate flying. You’re going to Europe?”
“Well, I think it’s a terrific plan.” Gran beamed at me. “Who knows what kind of adventures you’ll have?”
“What do you think, Jake?” Dad turned to Jake. “A bit risky for a girl on her own, right?”
“I’m not going on my own,” I reminded him. “I’ll be with Callie and Levi for the first three weeks.”
Dad had clearly wanted Jake to agree with him. Instead, Jake studied me with an intensity that sent a flood of heat straight to my core. “I don’t know. A summer abroad was just what I needed at her age and look where it took me.”
