Page 60 of Love on the Vine
“It’s hard when you have two jobs to find time for writing.”
“Two jobs?” asked Anne Sophie.
“I was working in a law firm last year and at a coffee shop on the weekends so I could afford to come to Europe this summer,” I explained. “I didn’t have much time for writing.”
“You could get into food criticism,” suggested Anne-Sophie.
I made a face. “I could never pretend to be an arbiter of taste. It’s so personal. And I would feel terrible if I had to tear someone down. No, I’m more into exploration, if that makes sense.”
“Then definitely recipe development. Think about it, and if you want some contacts, let me know.” She slipped me her card. “Speaking of arbiters of taste, I have to meet with Jérôme James in Antibes tonight, so must get going.”
I stared at her blankly and she gave me an indulgent smile. “He’s one of the hottest young designers on the fashion scene right now. I’ll send you my interview with him. Jake, it was a pleasure.”
She pressed herself against him gave him a kiss on each cheek—a proper peck, no air kisses!—letting her hand linger on his arm, and my goodwill toward her disappeared.
When Jake sat back down, I glanced away, pretending to watch Spencer and Lucie show Monsieur Reynaud the photos on Spencer’s camera. “Did you really read those articles?”
He turned his intense gaze at me, making my insides warm, and raised an eyebrow. “Why does that surprise you? I thought I made it clear yesterday that I’m interested in you.”
His hand glided over my fingers, lightly tracing their contours. I held my breath. “They were amazing. Like everything else about you,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I had to stop myself from coming to your room in the middle of the night.”
“I wish you had.” I breathed raggedly as his hand stroked down my back, settling just above my ass.
“This day is never ending,” he groaned. “It’s torture not being able to touch you.”
Spencer reappeared, but Jake didn’t back away from me like he once might have. It was almost like that evening with Thomas, like he was staking a claim. “The light’s better now.Let’s try a couple more shots here and then head back up to your place for sunset photos.”
Jake stood reluctantly, bending to whisper to me. “As soon as he gets his last shot I’m kicking them out.”
I watched them walk away, then slumped back in my chair, relieved and tingling with anticipation.
Chapter 20
OLIVIA
The longest day in memory turned into the longest evening. Once we returned home, Spencer insisted on taking some sunset shots, waiting until the light was just perfect. I suggested making a quick dinner for everyone while we waited, but Jake shot me a murderous look.
“We have an early day tomorrow,” he lied. “Besides, Lucie, isn’t your fiancé waiting for you somewhere?”
At least Lucie knew him well enough not to be offended. “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome, Spencer. Introverts like Jake need their time alone.”
I felt sticky from the heat, so while Spencer took his last shots, I hopped in the shower. Afterward, I slathered myself with lotion and slipped on a pair of sexy black panties and a vintage satin dress with lace around the bodice. It was almost more of a negligée than dress if I was being honest. The sapphire blue fabric skimmed over me like water.
All the while my body was humming with nervous energy at the idea of being alone with Jake at last, and I remembered what he’d told me at our first wine lesson: that anticipation heightens pleasure.
“This is what you want,” I reminded my reflection in the mirror. But I was also a little apprehensive. There was no going back after this.
By the time I returned to the main house, Jake was ushering Lucie and Spencer out the door and closing it behind them.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I objected, racing toward him.
He blocked it with his body. “Do not go out there. We’ll never get rid of them.” His warm gaze traveled down my body. “You changed.”
“I was hot,” I responded, taking him in as well. His shirt was untucked and open at the neck, sleeves rolled up over his forearms. His tousled hair looked as if he had run his fingers through it too many times.
He snaked his arm around me and buried his face in my neck, and my knees threatened to give way. “Mmm, linden blossom. It’s been driving me crazy for weeks. In a good way.”
Looping his fingers through mine, he led me toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Let’s eat.”
