It wasn’t easy.
Later that night, Lindsay was home on the couch, Rocket with his head in her lap, and Angela on FaceTime.
“So, wait.” Angela was squinting into the screen, obviously trying to sort out the order of events Lindsay had reported. “She came right into the office and kissed you?”
“She asked if we could go into the office,” Lindsay corrected her. “And then, yes, she was just…on me.” The pang in her lower body then reminded her of how sexy that had been. “I didn’t see it coming. She just took over. It was amazing.”
“Wow.” Angela propped her chin in her hand and let out a dreamy sigh.
“Yeah, but then tonight, everything was different. I think she’s freaked.”
“What happened tonight?”
Lindsay thought back and the expression on Piper’s face came shooting back to her. “She came in all stern and businesslike.”
“Not like she’d had her tongue in your mouth a few hours earlier?”
“No. Not like that at all. She was all firm and professional-ish and told me she’d gone over the numbers for the changes we’d talked about for the patio. Then she slipped me an envelope and left. She barely looked at me.”
“Mm-hmm,” Angela said. “Definitely sounds like a woman freaking out. Silently.”
Lindsay nodded into the screen at the accuracy of the statement. “That’s her.” Piper would definitely be the kind of woman that nobody would realize was panicking because she was so stoic. So in control. It hadn’t take Lindsay long to learn this fact about her.
“Did you look in the envelope?”
“I did.” Lindsay glanced at the paper she’d tossed on the coffee table.
“And?”
“She cut the number we’d talked about pretty much in half. The number we’d agreed on.”
“That girl of yours is a control freak, Linds.”
Lindsay snorted. “First of all, she’s not my girl. She’s my boss’s daughter and it would do me good to remember that. Second, tell me something I don’t know.”
“Watch yourself, okay?” Angela’s voice had softened with concern. “I know you and I know that tender heart of yours.”
Lindsay nodded into the screen. “I will.”
They talked about a few more things and promised to get together soon, then hung up. Lindsay stayed on the couch, petting Rocket’s fuzzy head and thinking about Piper. She’d tried to banish her from her thoughts, but that wasn’t working, so she decided maybe she needed to let her in fully, focus on her for a bit. Maybe then she’d be allowed to sleep.
Lindsay was pretty sure she knew what was going on with Piper: she was freaked about what had occurred between them, and she was probably feeling a bit out of control. So she looked around to see what she could control and decided it was the money. The purse strings. Piper had been totally on board with the suggestions Lindsay had made and the cost of those suggestions. Now, suddenly, it was too much? No, she needed to feel like she had a handle on something, like she was fully in charge of at least one thing.
“What do you think she’d do if I called her on it?” Lindsay asked aloud. Rocket cocked his head in her lap so he could focus his big brown eyes on her. “I mean, besides be pissed off at me. Because you know she’d be pissed off at somebody holding a mirror in front of her face.” She stared at the ceiling, stroked her dog’s fur, and her voice got quiet. “I don’t think she enjoys when somebody knows her. Like, really knows her. I think she keeps everything closed off so that doesn’t happen.” She looked down at Rocket with a shrug of nonchalance. “Problem is, she’s not all that hard to read.”
Yeah. She and Piper were going to have a little chat.
* * *
Piper had hoped the rain would hold off long enough for her to get her morning paddle in, but she was cutting it close. A gentle mist had begun to fall as she pointed her kayak toward the shore, and she dug deeper, the muscles in her shoulders protesting slightly. She’d worked hard this morning, paddling faster, punishing her body for reasons of which she was uncertain.
She’d hardly slept. That was part of it. Lack of sleep made her cranky. Angry. She had no choice but to do what she could to work through it—physical exertion worked best for her—or she’d carry it around all day, taking her frustrations out on friends and colleagues alike. She had lunch scheduled with Gina today, and her poor sister would get the brunt of it, as usual.
So, paddling it was.
The gentle mist changed to a steady rain as Piper glided toward shore. And when she glanced up and saw Lindsay standing there, leaning back against her silver Camry, arms folded across her chest, a duo of emotions hit her, one and then the other. Arousal was first and foremost because Lindsay looked so cute in her yoga pants and sneakers and hot pink hat. But the arousal took Piper by surprise and that pissed her off, which only served to accentuate the anger she’d been trying to paddle away from.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, as she reached a spot where she could hop out of her kayak and walk it the rest of the way in.
The rain fell steadily now, soaking but warm, and Piper felt her ponytail flatten against her neck and her clothes begin to stick to her as she reached the shore.
“Good morning,” Lindsay said as she met Piper at the edge of the water and grasped the front of the kayak.
“I can do it,” Piper said, her voice testier than she’d intended.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
Piper would never admit to being grateful for the assistance—lifting a wet kayak in the rain all by herself wasn’t an easy task—but she allowed it, and together they hauled the boat out of the water, to Piper’s SUV, and up into the rack.
“I looked at the numbers you left for me last night.” Lindsay’s voice was casual. Breezy.
“Good.”
“Yeah, I don’t agree with them. I think you should take another look.”
Piper stopped, her hands on the kayak strap in mid-tie, and gaped at Lindsay. “I’m sorry. What?”
Lindsay shrugged, her nonchalant demeanor not slipping a millimeter. “They’re not accurate.”
Piper felt her blood begin to boil. She yanked on the strap, hard, and clenched her jaw tightly to keep from blowing up at Lindsay. When she couldn’t make the straps any tighter, she parked her hands on her hips and turned to face Lindsay, both of them nearly soaked at this point. “What the hell does that mean?” she asked.
“What do you mean, ‘what does that mean?’ It means they’re not accurate. They’re incorrect. They’re not what we agreed on and you came up with them for all the wrong reasons.” Lindsay walked closer, her green eyes seeming to spark a bit, but the rest of her just as relaxed as could be. Meanwhile, Piper felt like every muscle in her body was as taut as a bowstring ready to launch its weapon.
“I don’t appreciate being second-guessed.”
“I’m aware.”
Lindsay was dangerously close now. Too close. It did things to Piper, this proximity, and she didn’t like it. Except that she did. Lindsay stood only a few inches away, and Piper found herself with her back against the SUV. Piper swallowed hard but stood tall, determined not to be intimidated by this woman. And failing. With Piper not in heels, Lindsay’s two-inch advantage in the height department was obvious, and Piper lifted her chin in a useless effort to make up for it. “Exactly what wrong reasons are you talking about?” There was a subtle crack in her voice she hoped Lindsay didn’t hear, but she wasn’t optimistic, as she suspected Lindsay could probably also hear the pounding of her heart and the whooshing of her blood in her veins.
Lindsay’s answer was to place a hand on either side of Piper, effectively trapping her between the car and Lindsay’s body. Which was so alarmingly close now that Piper had trouble breathing. That turned out to be fine, though, because in the next second, Lindsay’s mouth was on hers and breathing became secondary to the kiss.
The deep, explorative, warm, wet kiss.
Piper’s
mind screamed at her. Shrieked for her to put a stop to this, that she was giving up all of her precious control to this woman with the soft lips and the magnetic eyes, but Piper felt completely helpless. She couldn’t do anything but kiss Lindsay back. Because damn it if this wasn’t the most amazing kiss she’d ever shared with another human ever in her entire life. She felt Lindsay’s hand cup the side of her face, felt Lindsay’s fingertips grasp her ponytail and give it a gentle tug, felt Lindsay’s lips, Lindsay’s tongue run a hot path along the side of her neck, heard a soft moan and wasn’t sure which of them had produced it. The back of her head thumped against the car window and the rain had soaked them completely, as Lindsay’s mouth covered hers again and they kissed while Piper waged an internal battle with herself, wanting—needing—so much to put a stop to this, but unable to. She felt adrift, again, as if she kept grasping at something solid to stop her from floating away but couldn’t reach anything, her fingertips slashing at empty air.
But Lindsay kept kissing her.
And just when Piper was about to give up, about to give in, to let herself sink fully into the kiss, it was over. Ended. Just like that. Lindsay took a step back, her palm still resting against Piper’s cheek, and she ran her thumb across Piper’s bottom lip in a move so possessive it sent a hot surge of arousal blasting through Piper’s body.
“For those wrong reasons,” Lindsay said quietly.
Piper blinked at her in confusion, needing several moments to remember that she’d actually asked Lindsay a question and this was Lindsay’s answer.
“Look at those numbers again, okay?”
Piper watched as Lindsay took a few more steps backward, then got into her car, keyed the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot. The whole time, Piper stood there in the rain, soaked to the skin, her entire body thrumming with unfulfilled desire. Her breathing was still a bit ragged as she watched Lindsay’s taillights disappear into the wet morning, and it took her a few moments before she felt like her legs would hold her if she moved. With some effort, she pushed herself off the SUV and stood on her own, brought her fingertips up to her swollen lips, and swallowed hard.
Yeah, it was pretty clear who had the control now, and it wasn’t Piper.
* * *
“What is wrong with you?” Gina’s voice was quietly firm as she leaned toward the table between them and fixed her gaze on Piper.
Piper cleared her throat and avoided eye contact. “What do you mean?”
Gina arched one eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re going to play this game with me, the person who’s known you your entire life?” When Piper didn’t respond, she continued. “Okay. Fine.” She ticked off each example on a finger. “You ordered wine at lunch. You’re being a jerk to the waiter, who is doing his best. You haven’t made eye contact with me once since we sat down. And I’m doing all the talking. You’re cranky and you’re either mad or upset about something. So spill, because I’m tired of this.”
Gina knew her better than anybody. That was true. And trying to lie to her or pull one over on her was an exercise in futility—Piper had learned that the hard way more than once. Still, she wasn’t sure how much she was ready to share with her sister.
“Lindsay’s been trying to make a lot of changes at the wine bar.” She started there, wanted to see how Gina responded.
“Okay.” Gina forked some salad into her mouth and chewed. “Bad changes?”
“I…” Piper did her best to think about it and answer honestly. “No, I guess not.”
“Like, she’s trying to improve business, right?”
Piper inhaled and let the breath out, already seeing that this would get her nowhere. “I suppose so.”
“I see the Facebook page has been updated.”
“Dad was so inept when it came to social media.”
“Yeah, he was. But this is good. Social media is the best way to reach customers, don’t you think? She also created a Twitter account and one on Instagram. I don’t know if it’s her or Bridget, but somebody’s been posting some great shots. This is all good, right?”
“Yeah. It is.” Piper’s nod was reluctant. “We also went over some numbers regarding fixing up the patio a bit.”
“That’s a great idea.” Gina grinned with excitement. “I told Dad for months he wasn’t using that space like he should.”
“Lindsay didn’t like the numbers. Said I should look again.” Piper didn’t tell Gina that she’d verbally agreed to one number, then changed her mind later. After kissing had ensued.
Gina lifted her shoulders. “So look again. Can’t hurt, can it?”
Piper sighed. “Why do you always have to be so agreeable?”
Gina chuckled. “Look, all I’m saying is, Mom always said Lindsay had a ton of ideas and she should let her try some out. You and I both know that. Looks like that’s exactly what Lindsay’s doing.” Gina studied her. “So, if it’s good for Vineyard, what’s the problem?”
Piper shook her head, giving up on this tack. “Nothing.”
“P. Come on. Something’s on your mind.” Gina’s voice had softened. “I’m worried about you.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to just spew it all out onto the table, to tell Gina everything, including the ridiculous chemistry she’d suddenly developed with Lindsay and the three steamy make-out sessions that Piper couldn’t get out of her head. It was like Lindsay was taking over every aspect of her life, and it had Piper freaking out a bit. She came so close to saying exactly that to Gina, so close, but chickened out at the last minute, veering in another direction.
“The changes are hard,” she said, and gazed out the window next to their booth.
Gina nodded, and Piper knew she got it. She didn’t have to say anything; Piper knew she understood. “I know. But he’s gone, P. And he liked Lindsay. Don’t you think he’d be happy to see that she’s got Vineyard making money? Being successful?”
Piper nodded, working as hard as she could to keep her eyes from welling up. She needed desperately to change the subject. “I think I’m just frustrated with work. That’s all. It’s coloring everything else in my life right now, and my coping skills are in the toilet.”
It had exactly the effect Piper hoped, and Gina turned her focus, thank God. “Oh, man. Still the merger stuff?”
Piper waved a hand. “Yeah, but you won’t want to hear all about my corporate crap.”
Again, Gina arched an eyebrow at her as her face hardened a bit. “Yeah, don’t do that. Don’t talk down to me, okay?”
Piper looked down at her plate, shame tinting her cheeks with pink. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
From that point on, things shifted to work talk. For a woman who had never been in the corporate world, Gina was surprisingly wise about all things regarding office politics, and in the past, she’d given Piper excellent advice. Piper would do well to remember that. For the next half hour, they went back and forth between discussing Piper’s office merger and some of the annoying faculty at the community college where Gina taught. Throughout the conversation, Piper felt herself relax at least a little bit.
When they’d paid the bill and stood to leave, Gina grasped Piper’s arm. “Hey,” she said, and her expression was gentle and loving. “If you ever need to talk about Dad—I mean, aside from Vineyard—I’m here. You know that, right?”
Piper nodded, forced a smile. Gina always wanted to talk about him. Piper almost never did. She knew that bothered both Gina and their mother, but she couldn’t seem to change it.
* * *
Patrice Dymond blew the roof off Vineyard. Lindsay couldn’t have been happier with her talent or with the turnout. It was Friday night, the tables were all full, and Lindsay stood behind the bar with a huge smile on her face. Mrs. B. would be so proud of her right now. Zack and Kevin were both waiting tables. Lindsay was currently taking a breather from arranging cheese boards but knew she’d be back at it any moment, given the two new parties that had just sat.
“I don’t rememb
er ever seeing this place so busy,” Angela said to her from her seat at the bar. She’d come by after work and surprised Lindsay, saying she couldn’t stay long. Ms. Dymond had changed her mind. She sat on the barstool, still in her work attire, her legs crossed, one foot swinging to the beat. “She’s amazing.” She used the hand holding her wine glass to point toward the band.
“Right? I’m going to see if I can book her next weekend, too.” Lindsay hesitated. “Do you think I should do that?”
Angela furrowed her brow and squinted her dark brown eyes at Lindsay. “Do what?”
“Book the same singer two weekends in a row.”
“Oh, like, will customers get bored of her? That kind of thing?”
“Exactly.”
Angela shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, look at this place.” She indicated the crowd, Lindsay’s bustling waiters. Angela’s positive attitude helped and Lindsay decided not to second-guess herself.
Her tablet beeped and she saw Zack’s order for a cheese board, so she excused herself from Angela and went in the back to put it together.
The first time Mrs. B. had taught Lindsay the ins and outs of arranging the cheese boards, Lindsay had focused like crazy, cutting the cheese wedges precisely, scooping olives and honey into the small serving dishes just so, making sure the baguettes were sliced evenly and the presentation was perfect. Now it was old hat for her and she was able to let her mind drift while she cut.
She was disappointed Piper hadn’t come by. Lindsay didn’t want to admit that but finally realized she had to. She hadn’t seen or heard from Piper since yesterday morning, when they’d had that rain-drenched kiss that had kept Lindsay’s insides aflame all day long. No texts. No calls. No surprise appearances at Vineyard.
It could mean a lot of things. It could mean Piper was simply busy. With work. With life. She was a busy woman.
Lindsay sliced a wedge of brie, set it at an angle on the slate tray.
Blend Page 17