by Kim Karr
“Touché,” he chuckled, and continued toward the place where the entrance to the caves had been. “Well, anyways,” he said, “I had a fleeting minute with Cliff Star Wines last week, long story, but I did have a chance to have a very lengthy talk with Paulo.” There was a gleam in his eyes. “I actually think I can get him down here.”
I bit my lip. “Can we afford it?”
“We can’t afford not to. I’m putting my penthouse up for sale and with the money I’ll make from it, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Tyler, you love that place.”
The giant hole in the ground stopped him from moving any further. “It’s just an apartment. I can get another, later, or we can. So what do you say?”
We can?
My heart did crazy things in my chest.
Yes, I was most definitely a bird in flight.
Soaring way too high, I stepped beside Tyler and peered down. I sighed in relief when I saw the stone stairs hadn’t crumbled. “Are you actually asking for my opinion?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I think getting a new winemaker is just what we need.”
He patted my butt. “Great because I already called him and he agreed.”
“Tylerrrrr!” I gritted. “That is not how teams work. There’s no U in team.”
Taking the first step down, he reached his hand out for me. “But there could be a me in U as long as you start behaving.”
Ignoring his help, I stepped down. My palm hit the cool of the cave wall and I concentrated on where I was moving. “You . . . you . . . you make me so mad.”
“That anger you’re experiencing is just a substitute for what you’re really feeling.”
I took another step and felt the cool air whirl around me. “Really,” I said, amused. “And what might that be?”
“Oh, Love, just admit you want me to bang your brains out right now, and I will.”
The light shone down, and with each step I had to tell myself to breathe. “In your dreams, Tyler Holiday, in your dreams.”
“You were last night, and this morning, too, when I jerked off to the erotic moans you were making in your sleep.”
“I was doing no such thing.”
“But you were.”
“And you jerked off in my shower?” I wanted to say, “Not fair.”
As soon as he hit the last step, he looked over his shoulder at me and his lips twitched. “I’m happy to do it again tonight if you want to watch.”
“No, thank you,” I snapped but the very idea had me thinking I couldn’t wait for evening to arrive.
With a slight shrug he muttered, “Your loss,” and then stepped into the cave. When he shined the light ahead, we both gasped in glee. There they sat. Barrels and barrels of fermenting red wine. Untouched. Unharmed. “Any idea how long they’ve been down here?” he asked.
Tears appeared in my eyes when the light from the flashlight reflected off the steel bands around the oak. “I don’t have a clue. My father never mentioned them.”
“Maybe he forgot about them?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
With quick steps, Tyler strode toward all the oak. Crouching down, he tapped his knuckles against one of the barrels. “I’m going to guess these suckers, other than losing a larger than normal amount of angel’s share, are more than ready for production.”
I hurried toward him and bent to see the barrels in the light. “They’re fine?”
He nodded.
“And this means we are going to be just fine, doesn’t it?” I cried and threw my arms around him, throwing us both off balance.
He caught me and brought us both to our feet. We held each other’s gaze for a few moments. Once young lovers now adults trying to find our way.
The burn of desire started to pool low in my belly and I wondered again how it was I could hate him one minute and want him so much the next?
To my surprise, he said, “So, what do you say we call it a day?”
“You mean lesson one is over?”
He glanced at his watch. “Yes, I think it is.”
“Did I pass?”
The nod he gave me was slow and sexy. “Dinner?”
Elated over today’s accomplishments, I felt on top of the world. “Anywhere I choose?”
Tyler considered my suggestion and then chuckled before shining the flashlight back on the barrels. “Sure, why not.”
Everything was getting easier between us. More like the way it used to be.
The question was—was that good or bad?
Paris
I HAD OFFICIALLY been banned from my own winery and tasting room.
Come to find out, dinner was a peace offering of sorts. This came to light when we walked in my front door after eating. Tyler informed me right then that Lawson advised I keep my distance until he could get all the paperwork in order.
Apparently, Lawson was going to petition for some kind of CEO succession passage. However, it was complicated and he had to prove I’d been operating in that capacity before my father took ill because my father wished it so. This way, it wouldn’t look like I’d hijacked the company.
Basically the truth, but not exactly.
Slippery slope.
And Brick the Prick was the one presenting my case.
My mouth trembled with emotion and I fought the burn of tears. “Why can’t Mr. Dane do it?”
Tyler looked at his feet.
When a few seconds passed without an answer, I huffed in annoyance. “Let me guess, he represents California Jane and it’s a conflict of interest.”
Toeing off his boots, he lifted his head. “Yes.”
Anger curled in my gut as I kicked off my sneakers and tossed my coat on a hook beside the door. “Why did we even get married? What good is the merger if we have to keep everything separate?”
His jaw clenched. “Love—”
“If you call me that one more time, I swear I’m going to scream.”
He pulled his arms from his jacket. “Paris, listen to me. We are building something together. Wine from Highway 128 is going to start bottle production at California Jane, tomorrow. That’s huge.”
I took a deep breath and walked into the living room.
Tyler followed me and headed over to the fireplace to restack the logs before stuffing paper beneath them.
I crossed my arms. “Let’s both rebrand.”
It just came out.
He lit the paper and the fire blazed to life. “You mean change both of our company names?”
I nodded. “Yes, to a new one. Now. Before we start production. Start fresh.”
His silhouette was a glow from the flames and I watched as he paced, ran his hand through his hair, over his mouth.
Feeling much calmer, I sat on the sofa. “Think about it,” I said. “You don’t have to decide today.”
Nabbing his laptop, he sat beside me. “I will. I’ll give it serious consideration.”
Grabbing a blanket and tossing it over me, I pulled the box of surveys and papers we’d taken from my father’s office closer. “Now, what are we looking for?” I asked.
He opened his laptop. “I have no idea.”
“Yes, you do.” I nudged him and it was like receiving an electrical charge. Things were getting hotter and the tension thicker.
Smirking at me, he pulled up the surveys he’d scanned from the County Clerk’s office. “Anything to tie these together.”
“Got it.” I started laying the documents out all over the coffee table.
An hour later, I was resting my head on the arm of the sofa when he said, “Why did your father name your company Highway 128?”
Sitting up, I yawned and rubbed my eyes. “I don’t know. But somewhere in here I saw a document referencing a company that wasn’t originally named Highway 128. I’m not sure why he altered the name or when, but I think whatever word is beneath the scratch marks was his first choice.
Tyler continued to study the papers. “I wonder w
hy he changed it?”
I shrugged and put my head back down. “No idea.”
My body was achy and sore from the manual labor and my mind a complete case of chaos.
I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, the fire was glowing with embers and Tyler was fast asleep beside me.
He looked so calm when he was sleeping. I took his laptop and set it on the coffee table and then I did something completely unexpected.
I snuggled up beside him.
And I finally felt at home.
Tyler
I WAS A married man who had yet to have sex.
With a crick in my neck and the sound of soft breathing in my ear, I blinked my eyes open and closed.
Waiting for her to tell me she wanted me might very well kill me, but she’d said no sex, and she had to be the one to rescind those two words.
Didn’t mean I’d make it easy on her. Even so, there was no fucking going on, and my dick was not happy about it as it started to rise to the occasion.
Paris was tight up against me and I liked it that way. Could get used to it, actually. I stared down at her and pondered that thought.
With the ring that said she was mine shining bright, the bracelet I’d given her still around her dainty wrist, and my grandfather’s dog tags tucked inside her shirt, she was mine.
She just didn’t realize it yet.
I pushed her wild hair out of her face. Her creamy colored skin was so smooth. Her bow-shaped lips so kissable. And that tight little body was perfection.
I wanted to spread those thighs wide and sink into her more than anything I’d wanted in a long time.
Considered doing it, too.
But no, I’d wait for her.
Wait for that fierce personality and hard determination that still belonged to a lost little girl who was trying to make it in her father’s world, realize she could.
And fuck, I wanted her to.
Knew she would.
Also knew it wasn’t going to be easy.
I wasn’t sure what it was I was feeling for her, but I knew it was filling me up and making me feel like I could take on the world.
For her.
Moving carefully, I laid her down on the sofa and covered her up. Running my hands down my face, I got to my feet. When I did, I accidentally tapped my laptop and it came to life. The document I’d been staring at last night making an appearance. I glanced down at it and the papers on the table.
The maps. The surveys.
The surveys.
And that’s when I saw it.
They were different.
Altered.
Fuck me.
I sat back down on the sofa and touched her cheek. “Paris. Wake up.”
She made that raspy moaning sound that made my dick even harder than it was. The idea of spreading her wide and dipping inside her sweetness was back in the forefront of my mind, but I had to put my party boy ways aside and focus on our future.
This was important.
This could be it.
Without giving much thought to what I was doing, I traced a path down to her jaw, enjoying the silky feel of her skin beneath my fingers. “Come on, Love. Wake up.”
Finally, she opened her eyes and her unfocused stare found mine. “Hey,” she said, “what time is it?”
“A little after six.”
She yawned and rubbed her eyes before sitting up and stretching. “It’s so early.”
“I know, but I want to show you something.”
She clutched the blanket around her in a manner that screamed she was not getting up. “No lessons right now. I’m too tired.”
I chuckled and decided to let her get some more sleep.
Setting everything down, I found the thermostat and turned it up. The thing wasn’t even digital. This place hadn’t been upgraded since it was built.
It was cold in here.
And not only the temperature. The surroundings, too.
Old man Malcolm, man. He was a piece of work.
I went into the kitchen with its avocado-green appliances and shook my head. There wasn’t even an electric coffee pot, just a percolator on the stove. Guess I could bring the one Wilhelmina bought me. It did make a decent cup of Joe.
I grabbed a shower and didn’t even jerk off this time. My dick was getting used to being perpetually hard, so it could deal.
Once I was back in the kitchen, I opened the cupboards and found the hot chocolate. There weren’t any candy canes anywhere, so just the chocolate would have to do.
Then, I couldn’t believe I was fucking doing it, but I toasted a couple slices of bread and tossed some jam on them.
Armed with a tray I’d found stuffed in the back of one of the old cupboards, I strode into the living room. “Hey, sleepyhead,” I said in a gentle tone. “I brought you some hot chocolate.”
She smiled at me and sat up stretching. “Wow. Breakfast in bed.” She bounced on the couch. “Well sofa, but close. You know, I think I might have married you just for your culinary skills.”
I got close. “You married me because I’m a sex God. I’d be happy to remind you of that.”
Grabbing the hot chocolate, she sat back with a, “Hmmm.”
“Hmmm what?”
She blew on it before taking a small sip. “Just hmmm.”
I shook my head. She was trying to blame for us not doing the deed yet. Whoa. “You fell asleep last night. Not me.”
Exchanging her cup for the plate of toast, she said, “Rewrite history in whatever way makes you feel good about it, but we both know the truth.”
My Martha Stewart time was up and I set the tray down away from the documents. “Whatever. Listen, I found something.”
Her brows rose. “Don’t say your dick.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Funny, but no. Don’t worry though, he’s right where he always is, ready and waiting, smartass.”
She giggled a little as she nibbled on her toast, her tongue sneaking out when she did.
Pushing my raging desire aside, I grabbed my laptop and the surveys from old man Malcolm’s relics. “Check this out.” I drew a finger over the line of the highway on each map.
She set her plate down and grabbed the paper map from me, holding it up beside the one on my computer. “According to the original plotting of the three parcels your grandfather spoke of in his letter, the access road to Highway 128 belonged to my father.”
I nodded. “Bingo! The question is, when did the boundaries change and why.”
“Do you think my father knew?”
That was a tough question. I thought about it. “Knew the property lines on the property stolen from him had been altered? Doubtful.”
She picked the piece of toast back up. “I think he might have known something and changed the name of his business to reflect that.”
I furrowed my brows. “I am not following.”
“Think about it,” she said.
And I did. “Ahhh,” I said, “A grand fuck-you to Vince Gable. Brilliant.”
She nodded. “I knew you were smart.”
“Funny.”
“But why keep a secret?”
“Because of the feud. Because time or money was short. Who knows. He’s probably the only one who could tell us that but I don’t think he’s a state of mind to do so.”
“No, me either.”
I took the piece of toast from her hand and shoved it in my mouth. “Hurry up and get ready,” I ordered, gathering up everything and tossing it in my briefcase. “We need to stop by and see Albert Dane before work.”
She got to her feet and started for the stairs, tossing over her shoulder, “Oh, goody, I can hardly wait,” she said sarcastically.
I wanted to give her an ‘oh goody’ all right, with my tongue and my dick, but sex would have to wait.
And that was so unlike anything I thought I’d ever say.
Paris
I LEFT MY life in L.A. without any notice.
So when Tabitha cal
led and asked me to lunch, I jumped at the idea of talking to another female.
I missed my friends in L.A., but they wouldn’t understand my life in St. Helena. To them I was a party girl, the daughter of a winemaker from a small town was a persona I hadn’t shown the world since the day my father banished me.
Shushi Mambo was located in Calistoga, and she picked me up at Albert Dane’s law office where I’d been sitting for hours while Tyler and he hashed out the discrepancies in the surveys.
“Tyler is way more romantic than I ever thought,” Tabitha remarked from around a mouthful of tempura.
I laughed out loud and had to cover my mouth. Once I recovered, I dabbed up the fallen pieces with my napkin. “Um, I’m not sure romantic is a word I’d use to describe Tyler Holiday.”
She pointed her chopsticks at me. “He gave you a fairytale wedding in less than six hours. I’m sorry, but in my book, that’s beyond romantic. I’d say it classifies as dreamy.”
Dreamy. That fit Tyler for sure. He was all kinds of dreamy. Tall, dark, and handsome, but it was the dark side I was worried about. “It’s temporary,” I told her. “You know we only got married to save both our families’ wineries,” I rebutted.
She shrugged and dipped a vegetable into the special sauce. “If business was all he cared about, he could have married you at the St. Helena Court House.”
As I picked up my spicy tuna roll, I considered what she’d said. She was right, of course. He had said he wanted to give me a perfect day, and I guess, yes, even in my overly cautious book, that was dreamy.
The yellow walls were bright and the paper lanterns above us dabbed her in shadows as she leaned forward. “Here’s the important question, how’s marriage sex?”
I was dragging my piece of sushi though the soy sauce on my plate and paused.
She leaned even closer. “I’m sorry, Paris. I can’t read you. I’m not sure if that reaction means fantastic or that it sucks.”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should be talking about it but telling the truth could never be wrong. “Well,” I said, “we haven’t actually had sex since we got married, so I really can’t say.”