At First Blush

by Marianne Rice

  She pictured the Martellis as the Godfather type. Their children her parents’ age, with a slew of bastard children among them. Who knew how many kids and grandchildren this Martelli dude had? Man whore. Money hungry. Criminals.

  Maybe Alexis lived a sheltered life. She knew not all Italians had mafia backgrounds. But come on. Martelli? That was totally a mafia name.

  “They’ve only got one generation up on us. Look, Dad. I think you’re making a huge mistake.”

  A light tapping on the window followed by a gust of cold air filled the room, and then…

  “Ben?” she whispered to herself, almost not recognizing him without his facial scruff.

  “Benito Martelli.” Her father stepped forward and shook Ben’s hand. “Welcome to Maine. To Crystal Cove.”

  An anchor of disappointment dropped in her gut. Her face grew warm with memories of his kisses, and how he’d lied about his identity, making a fool of her. Hemmy barked, wagged his tail, and scampered over to sniff the newcomer.

  “Come in, Mr. Martelli. Can I take your coat?” Claudia joined them, shaking the traitorous Italian’s hand, relieving him of his heavy parka.

  Alexis glared at him in his casual khakis and a light blue button down shirt trying to look like a gentleman. When he crouched to give Hemmy a rub down, she couldn’t help but notice the way his pants pulled across his muscular thighs. Only the liar intruding in her tasting room was not the same man who’d kissed her so passionately a few hours before.

  He barely resembled the down to earth man she’d had dinner and played wine games with last night. This man was sleek, his hair gelled, his outfit trying to fit in with the casual business attire, but sticking out like a…like an Italian millionaire wine connoisseur in a mom and pop style winery in a lonely town in Maine.

  Betrayal.

  He’d used her last night to try to butter her up, to buy her vote in demolishing her family business. And she’d fallen for it. For him. God, what if she’d gone all the way last night? This morning she’d asked him if he had a banana in his hand or if he was happy to see her.

  Embarrassment, anger, and a tinge of lust soared through her body.

  “I…I need to let Hemmy out.” Alexis pushed past them, her insides churning their way up her esophagus as she stormed out the door hoping Hemmy had followed. Dramatics had never been her thing.

  Not until she crossed paths with Benito Martelli.

  Not wanting to cause any more of a scene than she already had, Alexis left Hemmy outside to roam, knowing he wouldn’t go far, and returned to the tasting room.

  “Are you okay, Alexis?” Her dad placed a hand on her shoulder and Alexis nodded.

  “Yup. Just peachy.”

  “Mr. Martelli tells us you two ran into each other yesterday?” her mother asked, the lift in her eyebrow indicating she expected full disclosure later.

  “Please, call me Ben.”

  “Yes, Ben and I met under false pretenses.” She wouldn’t let him have the upper hand.

  “It wasn’t exactly—”

  “I told him who I was, talked about the winery, even gave him a bottle of our Hidden Vine White, and not once did he tell me he was Benito Martelli,” she said in her best—which was horrible—Italian accent.

  “It was more like shared a bottle.”

  “Excuse me?” Alexis met his eyes for the first time and saw a flash of something—guilt, amusement, apology, hunger?

  “Your daughter was a gracious hostess, filling me in on some of the town’s character.”

  “So you were using me.” Alexis nudged her way between Ben and her parents, jabbing her finger in his chest. And she hadn’t filled him in on anything. Liar.

  “Not in the least. I very much enjoyed your company yesterday. And this morning,” he added in a low whisper.

  Alexis gasped and stepped back. The man was teasing her, playing her right in front of her parents. She needed to change the subject or she’d give away just how much she enjoyed being in his arms.

  “Let’s cut to the chase and see this plan you have that will put our business belly-up.”

  “You’ll have to forgive our daughter, she has my Irish temper in her, and lets it interfere with manners.” Her mother offered Ben a glass of wine and the cheese and cracker platter.

  “Thank you.” He took what she offered, a satisfied grin on his face. “My mother is Irish as well, so I completely understand.”

  That explained the eyes. Not that they had any affect on her whatsoever.

  “I can’t smell Claudia’s pulled pork any longer without having a bite. Let’s eat first, then talk shop.” Her father took the lid off the crockpot, helping himself to a hefty serving.

  “I saw you picking at it when I was getting ready, and don’t try to tell me otherwise,” Claudia scolded.

  “This woman. She sees everything. One of the many reasons why I love her.” Shane picked up Claudia’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

  “Enough.” Alexis’s parents had always been that annoying couple who were open with their endearments and affections.

  However, her and Ben’s passionate kisses in the parking lot last night, and in Boons this morning, were heavy on the PDA as well.

  Right now, while she was going through her own turmoil of wanting to maim the lying bastard standing so smugly in the middle of her family’s tasting room, was not a good time for them to lay it on so thick.

  Ben placed a hand on her shoulder when her parents were too caught up in each other.

  “Are you okay?”

  What a ridiculous question to ask. Wasn’t it obvious? Shouldn’t he be apologizing or making excuses? Alexis opened her mouth to tell him off and then she noticed the dimple in his left cheek. It had been covered in stubble before, and she’d noticed only a slight indentation, but now, cleanly shaven.

  Holy hell on fire. Her knees wobbled and she felt her cheeks redden.

  “Think about Grumpy,” she said to her parents, ignoring Ben. “What he envisioned. Think about Coastal Vines, and what it means to our family before doing anything drastic. That’s all I ask.”

  Turning her back on the three people who were driving her mad, she opened the lid to the crockpot and piled a mound of pulled pork on her plate. She’d need her stamina to sit across from Ben for the next hour and resist the urge kick him in the shins or lick him from his cleanly shaven jaw to…places unknown.

  Two hours. She sat and ate and silently fumed while she gave Benito the floor. Oh, the Italian was smooth, that’s for sure. With his Powerpoint and charts and tables and statistics looking all flashy and convincing. He even researched her town, name-dropping people like Hope Windward, Lily Novak, Thomas Boon, and Willie Richmond, granted she’d introduced him to Willie.

  Sort of. The others were business owners who would also benefit from Coastal Vines expanding, or so Ben promised.

  He’d drawn up a design on his fancy laptop, completely demolishing the integrity of their barn and tasting room, turning it into a state-of-the art winery. Everything was computerized, making less work for Alexis and her parents. Supposedly.

  She could practically feel Grumpy rolling over in his grave.

  What Ben didn’t mention was what the commercialism would do to their property, their label. And the business they’d lose during construction.

  “I can’t believe you want to turn my apartment into a party hall.” Alexis pushed back her stool and went behind the counter to pour herself a glass of water. She stayed behind the counter, using it as a barrier, and poured three more glasses, not wanting to waste any of their wine on the evil spawn of corporate America.

  “I’d like to take a look at the inside to be sure it would work. I like how the ground slopes so the upstairs is level in the front while the tasting room back here is ground level as well. You avoid stairs and having to make everything handicap accessible. The space could be rented out for corporate functions, weddings, reunions. You name it. It would bring in a lot of business for your
winery, during the function and after.”

  “Meanwhile, I’ll live on the side of the road, and our fields will be taken over by cars and strangers, partying their drunk asses through our vines and crops.”

  “Alexis, keep an open mind.” Her father stood and carried his wine glass with him. “I’d like to see an estimate of what it will cost to turn it into a function hall. I’ll show you upstairs.”

  “That would be great. Mind if I take pictures to send to the builder?” Ben slid his phone from his pocket and followed her father.

  “Sure.”

  “No! You’re not going into my apartment and taking pictures.” Alexis blocked the doorway, not allowing Ben to get by. Instead of growling at the imposter, Hemmy wagged his tail and led the way. So much for having a watchdog.

  “He won’t be looking at your things, Alexis. He’ll be taking pictures of the space,” her mother chided.

  “My things are in the space. You’re not going up there.”

  Instead of being annoyed, the irritatingly adorable dimple sunk into his cheek as his lip quirked higher and higher. Ben leaned forward and spoke softly so only she could hear. “Did you leave your bra and panties hanging off the shower rod?”

  “I don’t wear panties,” she growled. Ben straightened and gasped, his eyes darkening to a midnight blue. “That’s not what I…” Nah, better to see him sweat and think she was commando than to tell him she wore unflattering cotton underwear. No sexy lingerie in her drawers. What was the use when no one would see? And she wasn’t worried about underwear lines showing in her baggy jeans.

  Ben licked his lips and her flesh prickled as his gaze traveled south, stopping near her crotch. She’d never inspired this kind of reaction out of a man before. Alexis wasn’t shy and often quipped inappropriate jokes, sometimes even sexual, with the guys. They’d laugh and flirt innocently with her, but no one ever raked his eyes down her body or got her insides to quiver in lust.

  “Permesso?”

  Oh, the accent and the Italian. She curled her lip and sneered at him. “Fine. Take your stupid pictures. But you’re not tearing down my apartment to build a party hall.”

  “A function hall.”

  “Tomato, to-mat-o.”

  “Nobody says to-mat-o.”

  “Nobody says, permesso.”

  “Maybe you’ve been hanging around the wrong people.” Ben winked as he slipped past her, his arm brushing against her over-sensitized chest.

  She cursed him under her breath and swore louder when his tight, round, perfect backside remained eye-level as she followed him up the stairs. Since when did she start fantasizing about taking a bite out of a guy’s ass?

  When they reached her apartment, she remembered why they were there, and why she hated Benito. He ran his hand along the wall and knocked on it at random places as he paced the perimeter.

  “It isn’t much, but Alexis likes her privacy. We added plumbing, for obvious reasons. The bathroom is on the other side of the kitchenette, and the bedroom in the back corner.” Her father showed Ben to the bedroom while she and her mother stayed in the open space.

  “Sweetheart, you’re being rude to Ben. He’s been nothing but gracious volunteering his time to put together a proposal.”

  “Volunteering? You hired the guy to—”

  “No, he offered to come out and take a look. To put together a business plan for us at no cost. He’s not making any money off us whether we choose to move forward with all of his plan or part of it.”

  “Or none of it.” Alexis crossed her arms and leaned against the refrigerator. “So he flew out here on his own dime out of the goodness of his heart? That’s bullshit. He wants something.”

  “Alexis Marie.”

  “I don’t buy it.” There was something the Italian was keeping from her. And she had a funny feeling her father and mother were in on it as well. Her mother avoided her questioning eyes, confirming Alexis’s assumption. If her parents were thinking of selling…

  Not wanting to have a family talk in front of Ben, she’d let it go for now. But as soon as he left, she’d make her parents come clean.

  “The walls seem solid. What’s on the other side?” Ben ignored her as he crossed the living room and peered up at the ceiling.

  “Alexis said she didn’t need much space so we only finished off a third of the space. It saves on energy costs as well.” Her father and Hemmy followed Ben around like…like a freaking dog in heat.

  “Any idea how many square feet in all?”

  “’Bout two thousand downstairs. I’d say the same up here.”

  “That’s a nice sized space. Not too large, not too small.”

  “Okay, Goldilocks. You done up here?” Alexis didn’t like the intimacy of him in her apartment. He looked too good standing in front of her sofas that matched the blue in his eyes. If he sat down and made himself at home, her ovaries would combust and she’d hate herself more than him.

  Why did the villains always have to be so good looking?

  “I’ll show you the operation we have going on. It’s nothing like what you have at Martevino, but I think you’ll be impressed.” Her father opened the door and motioned for Ben to go down the stairs first.

  Alexis stayed upstairs for a few extra minutes to compose herself. She’d never been so…snippy. So…bitchy before. By the quizzical looks her mother had been giving her, she must have figured out something was off, or going on, between her and Ben. Alexis needed to cool it and pretend he was just a hired salesman coming in to do a pitch.

  A few more probing questions to make it seem like she was considering his plan, and she’d be rid of him. For good. She finished her pout and went downstairs to join the crew. She stayed quiet while her father rattled on about their barrels and new labeling system, a recent upgrade Alexis had to be coerced into approving. Not that her parents needed her approval.

  Technology was taking over, changing people.

  Friends. Sisters. A heaviness weighted down her chest when she thought of her sister. She missed her. The old Grace. The new one was unapproachable, and Alexis wanted her sister back. Modernism and the latest trends stole her sister away.

  She wouldn’t let it steal Coastal Vines as well.

  They returned to the bar in the tasting room and Alexis took out a notebook from a nearby drawer.

  “I have questions.”

  “I’d hope you all would. Again, this is just a preliminary plan. Without having seen your building, the grounds, and even the town, I had to go by what I found online, and what Shane and Claudia have told me.”

  “Yeah, anyway.” Alexis waved his comment away and instantly regretted her attitude. If she wanted to appear professional and open-minded, this was not the way. She needed to show her father that she’d taken Benito’s plan into serious consideration. And then reject it. So an open mind she’d pretend to have.

  “Your suggestion to offer signature wines, introducing one or two new labels a year? Easy to suggest, but we’re limited with our research team here. If business is going to boom, as you claim, when are we going to come up with new recipes? What makes us unique is we’re one of the few wineries in Maine that uses only the grapes grown in their vineyard. Most places use grapes shipped from other parts of the country, or Europe. Even Australia. Don’t even think about suggesting we use…” Alexis over-exaggerated a shiver. “Italian grapes.”

  There was nothing wrong with Italian grapes. It was the Italian people—person—in her life that she had a problem with.

  Ben didn’t hide his amusement, his lips quirking once again. “I have some ideas for you.”

  “That’s lovely, Mr. Martelli, but this is a family run winery and we develop our own recipes.”

  “I’m simply suggesting teaming up with neighboring farms. The blueberry farm and apple orchard across the road. A beekeeper. Your own berries. Claudia.” He focused his attention on Alexis’s mom. “You said you plant rhubarb in the spring. I’ve heard winemakers using all sorts
of fruits and vegetables in their wines nowadays. Use Maine, especially Crystal Cove, as your resource, and you’ll see what cross promotion can do for you.”

  “We do cross promote. Our wine can be found in just about every local business,” Alexis reminded him.

  “That’s great for you. What are you doing for them?”

  She narrowed her eyes at Ben and bit her tongue. She had no response. Shit. Her throat grew thick and a bead of sweat worked its way down her spine. She’d never thought of it that way before. Maybe that’s why she had so few friends? Being a selfish business owner had never been her intent. Hell, being selfish wasn’t in her nature. That was her sister’s role.

  “That’s a good point, Ben. We donate to raffles and give gifts of wine, but we don’t do much to promote other businesses. I like this idea.” Her father tapped his finger to his lips, deep in thought. Dollar signs running through his head, most likely.

  “And your function hall can do the same. You can suggest area caterers, florists, musicians to brides and other events you hold. It’s where everyone in the community comes together to showcase their talents, in a way. You could even host craft fairs or bake offs, if that’s your town’s thing.”

  “People drive through Crystal Cove to see the ocean, not trees and grapes,” Alexis scoffed, needing to end the meeting and send Benito packing.

  “Then change that.”

  Oh, the Italian looked smug and confident. Mr. Big and Rich from a fancy California town, heir to a thousand acre vineyard, thinking he knew it all. Pointing out Alexis’s selfishness and acting all smug.

  “Let’s talk construction. Hypothetically.” Alexis scribbled in her notebook.

  “Of course.”

  “What would you estimate the cost to be to renovate my apartment into a function hall?” Stop the snark! Stop the snark!

  “I’m not a contractor—”

  “I know.”

  Her mother sighed in frustration. The amused smile on her father’s face as he filled their glasses with more wine, showed he enjoyed the banter between Alexis and Ben.