Page 21 of Trouble Me
Shane laughed and passed her a pair before picking up one for himself. “One size fits all.”
She pursed her lips, but gamely slipped off her expensive shoes. With both hands, she pulled on the dirty, black rubber boots. Shane studied her as she went through the motions of putting on the boots gingerly. He supposed it was so she didn’t tear those silky, translucent hose that ran up those long legs.
He leaned against the wall and changed into a pair of boots, then pushed off, walking to the large area where the doors stood open. If he could just not look at her, he could talk to her like she was anyone else. She was beautiful sure, but she was also smart as hell and it was a powerful combo. A combo he had no choice but to fight.
“What do you think?” Emma asked walking in front of him with her arms outstretched.
He couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips. “They suit you.”
The ugly black boots should have detracted from the way she looked in her dress. Instead, she simply looked like a little girl wearing her father’s too-big shoes. It was adorable.
Fucking hell. He couldn’t think of her that way.
Shane cleared his throat to cover a groan. “Let’s go.” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended, if her raised brows were any indication. Emma stepped aside in a silent gesture for him to go ahead of her. As he passed her, she stiffened and looked away.
He struck out toward the far end of the top level of acreage, where one section of the vines started. The more he walked, the more the coils of tension settling on his shoulders eased. As they walked in silence, Shane looked over at Emma with a sidelong glance. Although he had about six inches on her, she had no trouble keeping up with him. She never said a word, just followed wherever it was he walked. Shit, he’d been an asshole. Time to start over.
“I wanted to show you where the magic starts. The vines.” Shane waved a hand to the rows along the left side. “These produce a deep burgundy. Mostly merlot and cabernets.” As they walked, he pointed along the rows on the other side of them. “These are also red grapes but they will produce a slightly sweeter wine. Not as dry.”
Shane led them down a row with towering vines, with various stages of grape growth. Some were plump, dark red grapes, other were tiny, baby globes of a lighter red. Emma looked around, then at the ground around the vines. “What do you do when it rains or snows and there’s excess water? It seems to me it would run downhill and drown them.”
For someone who was new to a vineyard, her mind was sharp as a tack.
He pointed to a bunch of grapes growing along fruiting wire attached between two wooden posts. “We’re using the mountain slope to our advantage. We put in a new drainage system to divert the excess water from the vines.”
Emma leaned forward, fingering one of the flowing towers in front of her. “How do they know to grow like this?”
“We employ what’s called vine training. The vineyard master trains the vine with the vine trellis so it can grow upward using these wires”—Shane pointed to the top three pair of wires, near her hand—“called the catch wires.”
She was close enough that if the wind blew slightly, her thick, cherry cola-colored hair would sweep over his face. He inhaled quietly, and the scent of vanilla and citrus filled his nostrils. His heart beat in his ears, and every muscle in his body tightened to the point of pain.
Clearing his throat, he took a step back from her. Bringing her out to the vines was supposed to help her learn the ropes, instead all he’d done was fight off urges he had no business having. She was an employee. It would be nothing but trouble. After Marlene’s death, Shane tried to stay away from trouble. He had to get away from being so close to her. “Listen, I hate to cut our tour short, but I need to head back to the office.”
Emma nodded, her gaze averted from his. “Sure, no problem.”
Damn it, he was an asshole. Again, his tone was sharper than he intended. But the claws of desperation were in his throat and he had to get away from her before he did something he regretted. Like kiss those full lips until they both couldn’t breathe. He had to stop looking at her like a woman he wanted and see her only as an employee. Shane needed her fascinating brain and nothing more.
Still, it didn’t mean he had to act like a dick.
They started the hike back to the storage shed to change shoes. With each step, the apology worked its way up his chest. He stopped and turned to face her, finding her trailing behind. “Look, I’m...are you okay?”
A grimace marred her face and she gripped her left thigh as they hit the steeper area of the terrain.
“I’m fine.” Her response was curt—a mirror to his own—and she passed him without sparing a glance in his direction.
His hand shot out and curled around her bicep. “Emma, stop.”
She looked up at him, fire in those amber-colored eyes making them look as if they glowed.
“Shane, I’m fine. I swear.”
“You didn’t look fine when pain marched across your face. Are you going to tell me what caused it?”
“No, I’m not. It’s none of your business, frankly.” She sighed and looked away, her cheeks coloring a slight pink. “Please let go of my arm.”
He released her immediately, but she didn’t move away from him. The heat from her body warmed him like a blazing bonfire. When she turned her head to look up at him, their faces were close enough her breath whispered across his cheek.
The amber brown of her eyes darkened as her eyes searched his face. All he would need to do is lean in slightly and press his lips to her pink ones. Would they be as warm and soft as her hand?
