Page 37 of Love on the Vine
Fuck. Now I felt even worse about not eating her food. “How’d you end up with your dad?”
“My mom had a bad breakdown and ended up in the hospital. Her boyfriend at the time managed to get my dad’s name and old address from her, and he contacted him. Dad thought it was a joke at first, but then a paternity test proved otherwise.”
“Jesus, I can’t imagine how he felt knowing all you’d been through and not having been able to protect you.”
“That’s why he’s so overprotective now,” she said. “He’s got my life planned out until I’m forty. Maybe once I’m fifty he’ll let me sow some wild oats.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t strike me as someone with a lot of wild oats to sow.”
“Wow, thanks?” She laughed. “Should I take that as an insult or a compliment?”
“It was supposed to be a compliment. I just meant that you seem to have it together. That’s one of the first things I noticed about you—your poise.”
“You mean when you first saw me in my child-sized reindeer sweater?” She arched a brow.
“Yeah, most people couldn’t have pulled it off, but you looked . . .” I hesitated, not wanting to admit what I had really thought back then.
“Like I always dressed like that?” she suggested, and her laughter wrapped around me. Honestly, I could listen to it all night.
She took another sip of wine and confided, “Jin told me I should lick rocks to have the appropriate mineral sense memory.”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. Just look at what a pro Jin is. If I were to quit tomorrow, he could easily take the whole business over.” I was only half joking because sometimes the idea did run through my brain.
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine how people in town would gossip if they saw me wandering around licking stones by the side of the road.”
“True, they do like to gossip.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, she buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Oh God!”
“What?” Thinking she was in pain, I reached over to put my hands to her head. A mistake, I realized, when her silky hair met my fingertips. She peeked out from between her fingers. “I’m so embarrassed!”
“Why?” I peeled her hands away from her face and held on to them, forcing her to look at me.
“The whole town thinks we’re engaged. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m aware.” It didn’t seem like such a big deal now. In fact, it was kind of funny. “That’ll teach you to walk around sayingyesto everything. Didn’t anyone teach you that there’s power in sayingno?”
“I’m not good at saying no.”
“Well, it’s a life skill. You’re going to need it.” I glanced down at our entwined fingers. Slowly, I withdrew my hand from hersand leaned back in my chair, so I wouldn’t be tempted to do something crazy. “Anyway, no harm done. You’ve given Chantal and Michel some interesting gossip to share. You can’t imagine the currency news has in this place.”
“Then you aren’t mad?” She let out a shuddery breath. “I was so afraid that you’d think I’d purposely let everyone believe that you and I . . . I mean, as if that would ever be possible.” A deep blush stained her high cheekbones, and she played nervously with her wine glass. “Not that I don’t think that you’re attractive . . . that is, you are objectively very good looking . . . but you and I . . . oh God, just make me shut up.”
Impulsively, I leaned forward and took the glass from her hand and gently pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh, don’t say anymore.”
Her lips were warm and supple under the calloused pad of my finger, and her breathing slowed as she stared into my eyes for what seemed like endless seconds. I hesitated, then slowly traced her lower lip with my thumb. She exhaled, her soft breath dancing across my skin. Gently, I pushed the tip of my finger inside her mouth, felt the hot tip of her tongue against it as she held my gaze then lowered my eyes to watch her full lips close around it.
I stifled a groan as my body grew harder than those fucking rocks I’d told her to lick.
Slowly, I pulled my thumb out, moistening her lip, back and forth. God, I wanted to taste her. But I held back.
Then her eyes fluttered closed, and her head fell back in silent invitation. And who was I to refuse? Cupping her face between my hands, I lowered my lips to hers.
She tasted of the wine—black cherries and spice—but there was something more, a honeyed sweetness that made me want more. Hesitantly, I traced the seam of her lips with my tongue, and she moaned as she opened to me, touching her tongue tomine. My hands burrowed into her silky hair, holding her still as the kiss deepened, and I tasted her fully, our tongues tangling. Her hands fisted into my shirt, pulling me closer.
A voice inside my head warned me to stop. But I no longer seemed to have control of my body, because instead of pulling away, my hands spanned her waist, dragging her closer, and my knee slid between her bare legs, pushing her little sundress up higher, higher . . .
My fingertips grazed the delicate skin behind her knee before gliding up the back of her thigh and she whimpered, raking her hand through my hair and arching up, pressing her tits against my chest. I could feel her nipples swell through the thin material of her dress. I growled and buried my lips against her throat where her pulse beat wildly, matching the rhythm of my own thudding heart.
