Hot Alphas

by Lora Leigh

  “From records Dad got when he bought the property, this section was planted around 1906, same year as the San Francisco earthquake. They’re Zinfandel, just like the others, but the flavor is richer, more robust.”

  “There’s no irrigation.”

  “They’ve managed for over a hundred years.”

  “I still think they need to come out.”

  She stood there with her hands on her hips and studied him for a moment. “I think you’re wrong.”

  “There’s what, an acre? Acre and a half?”

  “Two acres.” She pointed north along the creek, but the vineyard was lost in shadow. “It’s a narrow parcel but it stretches to the north end of the property.”

  “They can’t be producing enough to make any real difference in your wine, and you could use this land to put in more Chardonnay.”

  “Why would we want more Chardonnay?”

  “Because you had to buy grapes last year. You don’t have enough acreage if you’re planning to market it. What did you get last year? Two hundred cases?”

  “We don’t buy grapes, we grow more Zinfandel than we can use, so we trade with a couple of our neighbors. The fruit is all from Dry Creek Valley.”

  “At least think about it?”

  “No, Nathan. You think about it.” She folded her arms across her chest to keep from making fists. Damn him! “I’m the one making the wine, not you. You grow the grapes. I need these grapes to make the kinds of wines that win awards, that people want to buy. That our boss likes to serve at his fancy parties and dinners. Before you start tearing out my vines, you’d better clear it with him.”

  Nate matched her stance and gazed at her for what felt like a very long time. She noticed a tic in his jaw, so he was obviously pissed. Finally he let out a long, slow breath and shoved his hands in his hip pockets.

  “Actually, Cassie, they’re Marc Reed’s vines, and it was his idea to tear out this section and replant with Chardonnay. You’ll have to take it up with him.”

  He didn’t give her time to answer. Probably a good thing. Cassie wasn’t sure she could say anything without either cursing or bursting into tears. Instead, she stood there, angry and so frustrated her entire body shook while Nate merely turned and walked away, back up the road to his apartment.

  CHAPTER 4

  Three days with the mobile bottlers going full tilt, a couple of mechanical issues, nine hundred and eighty-four cases of Zin and two hundred and sixteen cases of Chardonnay later, Cassie needed food, a shower, and sleep. Not necessarily in that order.

  “Lupe. Go home to your wife before you drop.”

  Lupe wiped his hand across his sweaty forehead and laughed. “Yeah, or she finds another man. One who keeps better hours.”

  “There is that.” Too tired to laugh, Cass shot him a grin.

  “Don’t worry. I’m almost done. And Josefina loves me best because I’m hot.” Then he laughed and said, “Also dirty and reeking of wine. Where would she ever find a catch like me?” He’d been rinsing out the used barrels and stacking them outside to dry. Now he paused and shook his head. “I’m outta here. Be sure and call, let me know when these are dry so I can get them sulfured and stored. I’ve got a crazy week at school.”

  “What am I going to do when you leave for college?” She was teasing, but the concern was real. He wasn’t much more than a kid, but Lupe knew this winery almost as well as Cassie did. And he was so easy to work with. No games, no power plays. Happily married.

  It would be so much easier if Nate were married. Then he wouldn’t be out there, a constant thorn in her side. A damned magnet to her libido.

  For whatever reason, she’d been perfectly happy without sex for the last few years. One night with Nathan Dunagan and she’d been unable to sleep, unable to avoid looking toward his apartment at night to see if the lights were on. They’d hardly exchanged two words over the past nine days, and as much as he drove her nuts, she missed him.

  And she was counting the days, dammit!

  Lupe grinned at her. “You will do fine when I’m gone. Josefina’s baby brother will be in high school next year. He’s going to want a job.”

  “Is he as smart as you? Does he work as hard as you?”

  Laughing, Lupe gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, and yes, but he’s not nearly as good looking as me.” He bowed deeply with a dramatic sweep of his arm. “Nor as charming. G’night, Cass.”

  She was still laughing when she heard his old truck start up out in front. But as soon as Lupe was gone, Cass’s mind spun right back to Nate. He hadn’t said anything more about tearing out her mom’s vineyard, and she’d been too busy to bring it up when Marcus Reed and Nate came down to watch the bottling.

  The minute she saw tractors moving in to take out the vines, she planned to raise hell.

  A vehicle pulled into the lot outside. Cass checked her watch. Almost five, and Nate was the only one who might still be working. She wiped her hands on a damp towel and walked to the front of the cave. A dark car sat in the lot, a man about her age standing in front of it, making notes on a digital tablet.

  “Can I help you?”

  He glanced up, shading his eyes against the sun streaming over the hilltop. “Are you Cassandra Phillips?”

  “I am. What can I do for you?” She stayed in the doorway and folded her hands over her chest. For whatever reason, something about this guy didn’t feel right.

  “Name’s Andrews. I’m with the FDA. You’re scheduled for a food and beverage safety inspection, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d get it done today.”

  “I don’t think so.” She’d had a long day. This joker had to be kidding.

  “You don’t think so?” Andrews actually smirked, the jackass. “I have complete authority to inspect the premises. I insist that…”

  “No, Mr. Andrews. You don’t.” She paused, and stared at him long enough that the smirk disappeared. “I don’t know who you are, but we had a full inspection done less than a month ago and passed with flying colors. I’ve been bottling all week, I’m tired, and I am shutting this place down, locking the doors, and going home to bed.”

  She stepped back inside, shut the door, and locked it behind her. Then she went back to her office nook, grabbed her backpack and cell phone and headed to the front of the cave. When she walked outside, the inspector—or whoever he was—was sitting in his car, talking on his phone.

  Cassie carefully locked the door, got into her truck, backed out and left him sitting there, but as soon as she got across the road and on the drive to her cottage, she pulled over behind a row of olive trees where she could still see the man, and called Nate.

  “Cassie? What’s up?”

  “There’s a guy in front of the cellar, says he’s with the FDA, here to do an inspection. Thing is, we had an inspection about a month ago and passed just fine.”

  “Did you ask for his credentials?”

  “No. He gave me the creeps. I’ll check with the local office tomorrow after they open, but do you mind taking a look? He’s average size, dark hair. Made me think of our nighttime visitor last week.”

  “I’m almost there.”

  She glanced up and saw his truck flying up the driveway. She’d left the front gate open on this side as well as in front of the cellar. It wasn’t like she could lock the guy in there, but as Nate paused at the gate on this side of the road to check for oncoming traffic, the man pulled out of her lot and headed south, toward town. Nate got out of his truck, walked across the road, and locked the gate.

  Then he walked over to where Cassie was parked and planted his hands on the bottom frame of the open window. “Damn. I didn’t get a good enough look, but he could have been the same guy from the other night.”

  “That was my first thought. Thanks for checking, Nate.”

  “Anytime.” He paused a moment, gazed toward the cave, and then turned to her again. “You okay? You’ve had a pretty rough week. Bottling done?”

  She nodded.
“All done. We still have to sulfur and store the barrels, but Lupe will do that in a few days, once they’re dry enough.” She yawned, and then started laughing. “I’m exhausted. Thanks for checking on that guy, and for locking up.” He stepped back, she put her truck into gear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He waved as she drove the short distance to her cottage, but she noticed that he got out of his truck and locked her gate behind him before he left. She wondered where he was going.

  “None of your business, Phillips.” She went into the cottage and dumped her things on the couch in the front room. Nate had looked tired, too. She wondered what was keeping him awake nights.

  Heading into the bathroom for a shower, shedding clothes along the way, she hoped it wasn’t the same thing keeping her awake. If it was, they were both in big trouble.

  * * *

  Nate watched for the dark gray sedan, but the guy must have been in a hurry. There was no sign of him anywhere along the road. He’d either been in a hell of a rush, or he might have taken the second bridge rather than the one closest to the wine cave. In that case, because West Dry Creek Road was narrower and slower than the main route, he could be behind Nate. There were only a couple of places where you could cross over the creek between the vineyard and town.

  Nate pulled into the shopping center and headed straight for the deli. He found himself buying twice as much as he usually got for dinner, but Cassie had looked exhausted, and since she hadn’t mentioned the old vines, he was hoping she’d forget about them, at least long enough to share a meal with him.

  He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind, and that was an absolutely unique experience. Sort of humbling, too. Women liked him. He’d never had to chase one before, but he’d never met a woman like Cassie, and he honestly didn’t know where to begin. In a way, he was sorry they’d ended up having sex so quickly. They hadn’t had time to build anything beyond the first, fragile bits of friendship, but he’d never, ever regret the sex. His body tightened with the mere thought of what it had felt like, sinking into her, feeling the heat and strength when her body clasped his.

  Okay … He shot a quick glance around the crowded deli buffet. This was not the time and definitely not the place to be thinking about his one night with Cassie Phillips.

  Or how very much he wanted to do it again. And again.

  Just not at this moment.

  He was still grinning at the direction his errant thoughts had taken him when he carried his selection to the register, paid, and then put everything in the big tote bag he’d brought with him. Dinner taken care of, he headed back up the valley. If there were lights on at her place, he’d at least offer to feed her. Nothing more. Not until they got things between them settled—that argument over the old vines had him bothered.

  The more he thought about it, the fact she’d gotten so angry and emotional made him wonder if there wasn’t something else going on. There had to be, and the only way to find out was to be straightforward and ask her.

  * * *

  Cassie grabbed a huge football jersey, all that was left of a long ago romance with an old college boyfriend, and pulled that on with nothing more than a tiny pair of panties underneath. Now, every time she slipped into one of her lacy thongs, she thought of Nate and what he’d said. Did he really do that, look at her, picture her wearing slinky panties under her jeans, and get aroused?

  In some perverted corner of her mind, she really hoped he did, because she was spending way too much time thinking about him, about how much fun she’d had that first night. She wished he was with her now so they could talk about the vines, about the winery. Anything to help her relax. After the week she’d had, every muscle ached and yet she was too keyed up to go to bed. The shower had felt wonderful—she’d stayed in until the hot water ran out, which was just plain extravagant considering the fact she was on a well, but after a week of not shaving her legs or conditioning her hair, it had been long past time for a bit of maintenance, not to mention a little self-indulgence.

  Her stomach growled, a not-so-subtle reminder she’d forgotten to eat. She was standing in front of the refrigerator, staring at the empty shelves with a glass of wine in her hand, when a truck pulled up in front.

  Nate? The gate was locked, so it had to be him—now that he had his own keys. She glanced down at her faded and stained gold-and-blue Aggies football jersey that hit halfway down her thighs and sighed. With her damp hair caught up in a frizzy knot on top of her head and the tattered jersey, she wasn’t ready to see anyone, much less a man who managed to irritate, confuse, and fascinate her in equal measure.

  He knocked on the door. She started to yell at him to come on in, then remembered she’d locked it. That guy at the cellar still had her feeling uneasy. “That you, Nate?”

  “It is,” he said. “Bearing food for the starving. Hope you haven’t eaten yet.”

  She opened the door. “Eat what? The cupboards are bare. I haven’t had time to get to the store all week. Lupe’s wife, Josie, has been sending me sandwiches or I’d have keeled over days ago.”

  He walked past her with a glance at her jersey and a big grin. “Nice outfit. Grab some plates and silverware. I’m starving.”

  She had real plates this time, and set napkins, knives, and forks with each on either side of the bar. She grabbed a bottle of beer for Nate and set it in front of him. He popped the top with the opener bolted to the bar and then started opening up containers.

  “I love this. Not only international but multicultural cuisine.” She scooped up spicy chicken curry and poured it over Chinese fried rice. Nate cut a square of veggie lasagna and set it on her plate.

  “I had this for lunch a couple of days ago. You really need some.”

  “Thanks.” This was nice. Better than nice. He was sweet and thoughtful and while the sexual vibe was simmering just below the surface, it wasn’t a bad feeling. Far from it. She really liked him when he was like this.

  Well, of course she did. He was feeding her. Hard not to appreciate a guy who came rushing to the rescue when you had a problem, or showed up with a delicious dinner all ready to eat. They ate and talked. She told him about her week and Nate talked about his. He brought up the possibility of hiring Josefina’s little brother before Lupe took off for UC Davis in a few months so Lupe would be able to train him, and Cassie agreed.

  He asked about her dad.

  She sighed. “I’ve only seen him a couple of days this week, just short visits in the evenings, which aren’t his best times. He’s doing okay, I guess, though he seems bothered about something. It’s hard to say.” She shrugged. “I think if I were losing all my memories, I’d be bothered, too.”

  “Does he have things to keep him busy, to help keep his mind active?”

  She liked the fact Nate honestly seemed concerned, even though he’d never met her father. “He’s got three good friends there. That’s why he picked this place. Dad wasn’t committed or anything like that. He picked the place where he lives and moved by his own choice, long before the deal closed on the vineyard, but he was well aware that bad business decisions were not normal for him. Buying that cave was a bad idea, financially. Great for the wine, but disastrous for our finances. That’s when he finally saw a doctor and got the diagnosis. After that, I don’t think he felt he had any other choice. We both know he’s not getting any better.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re saying he knew you couldn’t afford it when he bought it? He didn’t discuss it with you?” Nate set his fork down. His intense gaze made Cassie feel light-headed.

  She knew what it was like to have that focus on her for a totally different reason, and no matter how wrong it was, she wanted it again. No. That wasn’t going to happen. She sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. “I knew he was buying it, but he told me he had money in another bank. Turns out he’d forgotten he’d spent it years ago when we replanted some of the older vines.

  “Anyway, Benny White, Hal Munson, and Hector Ruiz are old friends of
Dad’s. Benny worked in Washington, D.C., when Dad was back there, though they didn’t meet until Benny retired and moved out here. Hal owned a tractor repair service in town and Hector was our vineyard manager when Dad first bought this place. They’ve been friends for a long time, and they’re all widowers with family around, so they’ve got company in and out and enough guys to make up a nightly card game.”

  “Doesn’t he miss the vineyard? You said before he doesn’t come out here.”

  Cassie shook her head. She’d asked him so many times to come out and see the place, see how beautiful the vines looked. She couldn’t even get him here during bud break in March when the new green leaves looked almost fluorescent against the dark trunks. “He said he doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s lost. That it makes him sad to think of what he did to my legacy.”

  She glanced away. Being the center of Nate’s focus left her raw, even more uncomfortable when she was talking about her dad’s mistakes. He’d been a wonderful man and the best father ever. She wanted to remember that, not the fact he’d gotten old and his razor-sharp mind had failed him so badly. “I think the hardest thing for him would be the reminders of Mom, the fact that he can’t go out in that old section of the vineyard and talk to her every day, the way he used to.”

  “Why that section, Cass? Why is he closest to her there? You are, too, aren’t you?”

  She frowned. “I thought I told you. That’s the reason the grapes from those old vines are so special. We scattered Mom’s ashes out there when she died in March of 2000. I still go out there and talk to her, and the wines we make from that little plot of grapes are some of the best you’ll ever taste.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Would it have mattered?” Her eyes swam with tears. She really didn’t want to cry. Not now, not when Nate was being so nice, but damn it all, it was so hard sometimes. So blasted hard to keep moving forward when everything felt like it was turning to crap around her.