"Do you think I'm crazy to put out a few ads for the grand reopening party? I don't want to jinx anything, but I also want enough lead time to generate some buzz."
Sean shrugged. "You should be fine. There's been no dry rot or any asbestos anywhere, so I can't see any major disasters pending. What day were you planning on?"
"Labor Day is early this year, and then school gets started, so I was thinking the following Friday. Give everyone a week to get situated and then folks from Denver and all around here might be willing to come for a big party."
"That should work fine. There's a whole extra week in there. You'll have plenty of time to unpack, let Jill decorate to her heart's content, and it'll give me leeway if something gets screwed up."
"Is there anything I need to know?"
"Nothing to confess here, but there is almost always something. Usually small and irritating, but completely conquerable."
"Okay, then. I guess I'll just have to trust you."
"I'm good at this. You and the White Rose will be fine."
Melinda's middle fluttered, but it wasn't nerves or anxiety. Sean looked so strong, so capable...and so damn sexy. His clear green eyes caught glints of flame from the snapping fireplace, and Melinda grew still. Sean cocked his head while he gently stroked Ethel's silky yellow head as she rested it on his lap. Lucy curled next to his feet. A tiny half-snore rippled through her muzzle, and they both snickered.
"Better than the other end." Sean winked.
Melinda covered her mouth and smothered a snort. Lucy opened her eyes, eyebrows twitching as she glanced to Melinda and then up at Sean. With a stretchy groan, the dog rose and trotted to the stairs, and sat down to wait.
"I think it's bedtime."
Melinda's heart raced, and the thought of sharing Sean's bed shot through her mind. No, that wasn't what he meant.
"Do you want to share a ride into work tomorrow?" Sean asked.
Oh my goodness. They sounded like a couple. And it was nice. Almost...sexy.
"I have errands to run." Melinda quashed her disappointment. "So I'd better take my own car."
As if they'd been doing it for years, they scooped up stray dishes, switched off lights, and headed back into the kitchen. Melinda rinsed the wineglasses and let them dry on a towel on the counter while Sean put down fresh water for the dogs.
Within a few minutes they stood, facing each other, at the top of the stairs, as the dogs disappeared into the master bedroom. For a heartbeat, she shifted from one foot to the other and couldn't quite meet his gaze. Sean took her hand in his. It was warm, enveloping.
"Let me know if I should stop."
Why would he stop? Her mind was filled with cotton fluff, and her body was as if encased in warm, honeyed syrup. She couldn't have moved away if she wanted to...and she was not going to move an inch.
He stepped closer and ran his fingertips along her chin and then traced the outline of her lower lip. Melinda quivered and held her breath. She wanted his mouth. On hers. She needed to taste him.
She leaned in and bent her arm behind her so that their entwined hands rested on the small of her back. She arched and held her mouth a whisper from his.
"Kiss me."
"At last." Sean's words were more need than sound.
Soft lips to soft lips. Sensuous. Delicate. Teasing. A thread of need grew in her center, snaking and twining its way through her veins and nerves.
It was dazzling desire. All she knew were his lips, his hand squeezing hers tight, and an all-encompassing cloud of heat that was fiery and new, yet as familiar as if they'd been merely waiting to touch again. It was like home in his arms.
Melinda caressed the line of his jaw and touched his lips as he had hers. Sean's eyes were heavy lidded, and one side of his mouth curled up. Of its own volition, her mouth matched his contented smile, and then Sean bent his head and kissed her until Melinda was sure her legs had turned to molten honey.
They leaned apart in unison, and a burble of laughter slipped across her lips. She was giddy and light. Sean pressed a kiss against her forehead and stepped back.
Without a word, Melinda floated back to her room. She turned. Sean stood with his hand on the railing, watching her. His green eyes darkened with need, but a self-satisfied grin played across his face.
Melinda mouthed the words, "Good night," and closed the door. For a moment, she waited. Her heart gave a mighty thump, and she held her breath.
A door tapped shut, and Melinda took two steps and twirled in the center of the bedroom. She had kissed perhaps a dozen men since Diego had died, and made love with two of them, but not a single one had lit her on fire the way Sean had.
For the first time in so long, she was alive, prickling with exhilaration and anticipation. With a quick glance at the paneled white door, Melinda almost sprang through it to go to Sean.
She pressed a hand over her heart and calmed her erratic breathing. She wondered what tomorrow would bring. She knew what she wanted to happen...and she couldn't help but smile.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT DAY, Friday, passed by in a blur of meetings with clients and driving from one job to another to check on progress. Sean had been keeping tabs on things via his foreman, but there was nothing like an onsite inspection. He'd subbed out the sanding and refinishing of the floors in the White Rose and had told Melinda that the bar was off-limits today as the stain dried and again tomorrow when the poly finish on the oak floors cured.
Melinda had been busy with prepping for a fundraiser that night and had insisted that he needed to go with her.
The bickering, um...invitation, had started at breakfast.
"You're going to the fundraiser tonight, right?" Melinda cracked the last egg into a bowl and whisked it vigorously.
Sean made a noncommittal noise and decided to play dumb. He had better things to do on a Friday night than get dressed up to eat cheese cubes and discuss the coming snowfall.
"That's not an answer. Everyone is going."
"I don't have a ticket, and I believe they're all sold out."
"You can come as my guest. Since I'm hosting a booth, I can smuggle you in with ease."
"I don't have anything to wear. I'm not the suit and tie kind."
"Nonsense. It isn't fancy at all." Melinda poured the eggs into the piping hot skillet and waived the spatula threateningly at Sean. "Slacks and a collared shirt will be fine. Besides, you have to go. It will be good for business."
"Your business is food. Of course it is mandatory for you."
"It'll be the perfect time for you to get out and chat up future clients. You never know who's thinking about a remodel or a new business."
"You have a point," Sean admitted. "I haven't been to one of these shindigs in almost a year. Colette always made me go."
"She was right. You've got to network."
"She only wanted me to go so she could be seen."
"Ha! I want you to go so you'll be seen. Build your business. Just don't wear dusty, ripped work jeans."
Sean laughed. "I might have something I can dig out of the closet."
Melinda eyed him up and down. "I do think you'll clean up tolerably well."
Sean pretended to tip his hat to her and mouthed, "Thanks," with a sardonic glance.
Now, a mere twelve hours later, he stood in the Wescott Springs Resort main ballroom, and it was hopping. The Taste of Chocolate soiree and fundraiser was a rip-roaring success, or so Sean assumed since the vast room was bursting with a chattering throng.
All the guests were busy with their small plates of various appetizers and with their brimming glasses of berry-tinted wines or amber-hued ales. A breeze wafted through the bank of French doors swung wide to let in the fresh, dusky air as the last glinting sun rays shot from behind the mountains.
As the cover band wrapped up a set, Sean ended his conversation with the mayor of Wescott Springs and their local state representative and searched the room for Melinda. It was her laugh that drew him in firs
t. It was clear and easy and uncomplicated. It rang of sheer joy.
Melinda gabbed with a large circle of elegantly dressed men and women. Even in a room filled with the elite of Vail and Wescott Springs, Melinda stood out in her peacock blue dress. With her silky black hair, strong cheekbones, and amber-bronze skin, she was stunning and seductive, yet somehow approachable and charming. She looked like an exotic bird fluttering in a jungle, but her smile and laughter were grounded and fun-loving.
As if she felt the burn of his gaze, Melinda turned and stared back at Sean. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners and the apples of her cheeks lifted in an irrepressible grin. Everything about her encouraged him to join her.
As he moved toward her, Melinda drifted away from her followers. They met in the middle of the ballroom.
"You were right. This is a lot of fun." Sean raised his glass in salute to her.
"See? Everyone may be dressed to the nines, but it's relaxed and fun. It's all about the food and the wine."
"And the microbrews."
"Yes, and those wretched slops, too."
"You really don't like beer, do you?"
"I suppose I can drink half a wheat beer as long as the bitter hops don't overwhelm it." With a gentle swipe of her fingers, Melinda brushed a wayward wisp of hair back into place. "It's not my favorite, and everyone assumes with my British accent that I must adore a good pint."
"All part of the show, right? You run a wine bar and must run down the drink of the everyman." Sean eyed his empty plate, and his stomach growled. How was a grown man supposed to feed himself on nothing but appetizers?
Melinda smirked. "You figured it out. It's all an act, but it makes my customers laugh."
"And it is one more thing that makes you stand out in people's memories."
Melinda raised her eyebrows in question.
"You're the gorgeous champagne woman who scorns the drink of the masses. Nothing but elegance and sophistication for you."
"Why, thank you for noticing." Melinda performed a small bow. "Now how about we find something more substantial than these finger foods? I have two of my people pouring wine, so I'm free for a while. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"You must have read my mind."
"I think I heard your belly rumble even over the roar of this crowd."
Sean placed a hand on his abdomen and shot Melinda a crooked smile.
"You caught that?"
"Ha! I knew it. No, I didn't hear anything, but I know men get cranky if there are only canapes and crackers to nibble on. Come on, I think Rosa and Aldo have chicken piccata and pasta out on the patio. And there are chairs and tables."
"You are an understanding woman."
Sean offered his arm to Melinda. She shifted her wineglass to her other hand and tucked her arm through his. He pulled her close, and Melinda leaned into him as her warm, tropical scent filled his senses. It was redolent of ripe fruits yet subtle and as fresh as the island surf.
Sean glanced at her profile and the chandelier lights glinting off her cut-crystal earrings. All at once, Sean's pulse sprang to life. Without missing a step, he tilted his head to her neck right beneath her ear and whispered, "You smell delicious."
Melinda hummed and half closed her eyes as Sean traced a delicate kiss along the soft skin of her neck. She tightened her grip on his bicep and an answering heat flared below his belt.
With their pace evenly matched, they floated out to the broad balcony patio. Fairy lights twinkled in the scattered potted plants and white lights glowed on a myriad of strands looping overhead.
Melinda introduced him to the couple who ran a Sicilian-style Italian restaurant in Wescott Springs, and as they laughed and gossiped, they heaped a pair of plates with a mound of pasta and golden chicken filets dotted with tiny, green-gray capers. With a motherly smile, Rosa handed Melinda a plate of fresh bread and balsamic vinegar for dipping.
"Now this is a feast for kings," Sean said as he found a cozy table for two.
"Will this keep you happy?" Melinda winked and carefully unloaded her array of wineglasses, plates, and a few odd cocktail napkins.
Sean patted his abs. "Feed the beast and he will be contented."
They dined and talked as the sky turned indigo and mysterious. They gossiped about town politics and a new bakery opening up in Wescott Springs.
"I almost wish I'd located The White Rose in Wescott Springs instead of Vail." Melinda dipped the last corner of her bread into the pungent balsamic and popped it into her mouth with a delighted sigh. "I know I gain so much extra business from the flood of tourists, but the cozy, relaxed small town vibe of Wescott Springs speaks to my heart."
"I would have guessed you were more of a big city girl." Sean leaned back in his bistro chair and stretched his legs out to the side, next to the balcony balustrade. "You seem super comfortable with all the elite of Vail, and you have an amazing knowledge of the best wines. I wouldn't think a small town was your cup of tea at all."
"I guess it all goes in cycles. I grew up in a tiny hamlet in Northern England and then my family moved to my mother's native British Virgin Islands to start an organic farm. So my roots are totally in small, tight-knit communities."
"How did you end up here?"
"When I was seventeen, I started partying in Road Town where all the cruise ships docked. By the time I was eighteen, I was dreaming of a bigger life than my small island. I met Diego, and within a week, I ran off with him on his yacht and sailed the Caribbean."
"I bet your parents flipped."
"There's an understatement, but I insisted that I was of age and could make my own decisions."
"We thought we knew it all back then, didn't we?"
Melinda shook her head and gave a hollow laugh.
"Diego wined and dined me, and we were married by the end of the month. He was much older than I, and he was oh-so-sophisticated. We went to glam parties in every port, and he conducted his business via video conference calls at all hours of the day and night."
"Sounds shady?"
"Mostly just high finance. He day-traded in stocks and currencies and whatever else seemed profitable. I was his eye candy and his attempt to feel young and carefree. There were some odd people that we met and a lot of stern bodyguards."
"Sounds very jet set and almost James Bond-like."
Melinda laughed. "That is a perfect description. It was a life far removed from the everyday and ordinary reality of most people."
"What happened? When did you stop wanting that lifestyle?"
"Our relationship was always volatile. Lots of fights and drama. Diego seemed to thrive on it. One day, I overheard him referring to me as his temperamental bunny who was sulking on the sun deck."
Sean froze with his glass halfway to his lips. "Wow. Nice." His tone dripped with sarcasm.
"The good thing is that it woke me up. I was better than that. At the next port, I took off to go snorkeling and hung out with some of the local staffers at a dive shop who invited me to a bonfire at the end of the evening. I didn't go since I was expected at a formal dinner, but I knew I needed more. I needed to find a purpose. A reason to get up and take on my day."
"How did Diego take it?"
"Over the next few weeks, I suggested a whole slew of different ideas to him about going back to school or starting a business, but he rebuffed all of them. None of them would work with his schedule or his lifestyle, and that I was the perfect woman...as his wife."
"How did you react to that?"
"It sank in, bit by bit, that he didn't want me to be anything other than wholly dependent on him. We had a blowout fight, and he told me that I had better get back in line or he would throw me out. Leave me stranded, with no friends and no money."
"What a stand-up kind of guy." Sean banged his fist on the table, and a fork bounced up and then clattered against the pasta plate.
"He left the boat and went on his way to some club or party. I actually cried for a while, but more out of frust
ration with myself and all the time I'd squandered just drifting aimlessly around the Caribbean with Diego. Endless, stupid parties and the same dull gossip. I packed my bags, counted the money in my wallet, and was ready to call a taxi to the nearest hotel when one of the stewards knocked on my door."
Melinda paused and stared over the balcony railing, but Sean doubted she even noticed the dark pines or shadowed meadows. He waited and slowly his anger at her chauvinistic idiot of a husband dissipated.
"It was the police," Melinda said in a cool, detached voice. "I needed to accompany them to confirm his identity. And so it all ended."
Sean whistled low and almost silently.
"I got a small, but tidy settlement as per the terms of our prenuptial agreement. The rest went to his one son, who was older than I, and some trust fund for his alma mater. I was happy to be free, but still..."
A flurry of emotions dashed across her face, and Sean could almost imagine her heartache and her confusion.
"You were lost," he said. "You'd gained your freedom, but you had no clue what to do with it."
Melinda's expression lightened, and a gurgling laugh tumbled from her lips.
"Exactly! Careful what you ask for. So I made my way back to that dive shop on St. Lucia and hung out with them for a week. I got myself a part-time job at a tavern and picked up some diving boat tours."
"That sounds like it was influential, given what you do now."
"Within a month, I was managing the bar, and by the end of the next, I'd made friends with a woman who invited me to come run her wine bar at one of the exclusive resorts."
"How did you end up in Vail?"
"After eighteen months, I was getting restless and was ready for a new challenge. I researched several businesses all over America and landed on Vail. I had just enough to buy the shop, the existing inventory, and cash to cover expenses for three months. I decided to invest my whole nest egg."
"You sure have proven Diego wrong." Sean's heart filled with admiration for this beautiful, strong woman. She was scrappy and determined.
Kiss Me at Last (A Wescott Springs Novella) Page 6