by Hayes, Lane
I watched him walk away with an odd feeling of relief tinged with longing—like I wanted another chance to explain myself or…find out whether he tasted like his wine had earlier. Damn, I was losing it. Thank God that “obligatory” chat was over. Now I could spend the rest of the weekend avoiding him with a clear conscience.
Chapter 2
The huge white tent perched on the lawn outside of the main courtyard boasted amazing views of the vineyard. The sunset had been especially impressive over the rolling hills that evening, a veritable fireball in shades of red and orange. Twilight took over, lending a Rousseau-esque quality to the landscape. My gaze flitted between the starry indigo sky and Eric, giving an impassioned speech on the makeshift stage a few feet away. My “close friend” status granted me a spot at the head table along with Zane, Nick and Wes, and Finn and Josh. A couple of young female execs who worked for Finn and their “plus ones” rounded out our party. They were nice, but they had the enthusiastic veneer of newfound success.
It took me the better part of dinner to clue in that only one of the couples was romantically involved. The other couple, Tom and Megan, were just friends. My instincts weren’t always sound when it came to these things, but by the time the dinner plates had been cleared, I had a feeling they were both flirting with me. I fielded their endless questions about my connection to EN Tech, hoping they’d lose interest in me when they realized I wasn’t part of their techie tribe. I spent the entire meal with them leaning against me and talking over each other to keep my attention.
Josh shot an amused grin across the table and leaned in to intercept Tom before he could grill me about my favorite restaurants in the city. And when Megan stopped a server to ask about the caloric count in the tiramisu he set in front of her, I figured it was a good opportunity to take a short break.
I slipped out of the tent and followed a waiter back to the wine-tasting room. I nodded when he turned toward the bar, then made a beeline for one of the leather chairs in front of the fireplace in the sitting area opposite the tasting room. The comfy high-backed chairs would provide a modicum of privacy until I was ready to rejoin the festivities. I shouldn’t have agreed to this trip. Less than five hours in and I was already looking for places to hide.
“Hey, Grant. I thought I saw you sneak in. How are you?”
I glanced up at the curly-haired cutie standing over me and smiled. Ryan was one of Wes’s long-time employees at the winery. I’d always thought he was a tad on the serious side. But now that he and Danny, one of Wes’s more recent hires, were an item, Ryan seemed infinitely more relaxed and approachable. I smiled a greeting at him then looked back at the bar area.
“I’m good. Where’s Danny?”
Ryan’s blush was instantaneous. My grin widened as he gestured toward the arched doorway leading outside. “He’s in the warehouse helping with the last of the harvest. We’re nearing the end of the busiest part of the season. He’s got an army of interns to help, but I’m going to lend a hand as soon as I clean up here.”
“Don’t mind me. I’m just checking my messages,” I said, shifting sideways to pull my phone from my pocket. “I’ll get out of your way in a sec.”
“There’s no hurry.” Ryan held up the two bottles in his hands. “I’m going to deliver these to Wes. This is our reserve Cab blend from last year. It’s incredible. I’ll pour you some when I get back.”
“I’d love a glass too,” someone behind me replied.
I started then did a double take when Tom, my attentive tablemate, flopped into the chair next to mine. He belatedly caught on to Ryan’s less than welcoming once-over and my blank expression. “If that’s all right,” he amended.
Ryan glowered at the intruder and gave me a curious look I returned with a shrug. This might not be the quiet I was hoping for, but I could handle Tom on my own.
“Sure,” Ryan said flatly before heading for the door.
Well, at least Tom had a nice smile. I’d give him that. And if he eased the intensity of his stare to something less salacious, I might even think he was handsome. He had short blond hair, blue eyes, and a close-shaven beard. He was compact, lean, and fit like a runner or someone who knew every yoga pose known to man. But I wasn’t attracted to him. At all.
“It’s hard to find a quiet place to get away from it all at a party, eh?”
His creepy intonation made me flinch. No one got away with making adolescent overtures with words like “hard” after age thirty. Unless you were old friends, I supposed.
“Um…right.” I stared at the embers burning in the fireplace and tried to think of something to say. “Your friend seems nice. Megan, right?”
“Yeah. She’s a lot of fun. She’s my neighbor. We live…”
I tuned Tom out with a vapid smile, hoping he’d get tired of his own voice before Ryan returned. Or maybe he’d think I was boring. That was okay too. I was just glad I hadn’t had any alcohol yet, because he was the kind of “nice enough” guy I tended to romanticize through Cab-colored lenses. The last thing I wanted was—
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Eric and Nick have been beasts to work for all night! I haven’t had a moment to sit. Did you enjoy your dinner? It was delicious, wasn’t it? I brought you a piece of tiramisu. You have to try this!”
Miles shoved a forkful of cake in my face and plopped into my lap out of nowhere. When his fork bit into my bottom lip, I opened my mouth to avoid getting skewered. My forehead creased with confusion as I swallowed the dessert.
“Do you love it?” he prodded.
I snatched the napkin from him when he dabbed the corner of my mouth and gave him the “What the fuck?” look he deserved. “Mmhmm.”
Miles grinned then helped himself to the cake with a yummy sound that went straight to my cock. Not good with him sitting on top of me. I pushed his thigh, hoping to wordlessly communicate that I wanted him off my lap. Miles wiggled his ass instead then set the plate on the end table and snaked his arm around my neck.
Tom cleared his throat as if to remind us he was still in the room. He cast a wary look between us then homed in on Miles, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Have we met? You look familiar, but I can’t place it. I thought it must be through Meg, but she said you don’t work together and—are you two…together?”
“No, we—ow.” I flinched when Miles dug his nail into my knee. I batted his hand away and glared at him.
“Yes,” Miles answered. He laced his fingers with mine but kept his gaze on Tom. “Why do you ask?”
Tom shook his head. “No reason. You didn’t sit together at dinner, so I assumed you—Andy! That’s it!”
Miles froze. Then he stood slowly and moved to the fireplace. Once again, he reminded me of an old-time movie star like Jimmy Stewart or Cary Grant with his graceful air and aloof savoir faire. I felt like I was watching him act out a starring role in a small production. Unfortunately, I knew there was a chance he’d cast me in his play without any warning. I had to stay on my toes around this guy.
“Andy Gonzalez?” Miles asked blandly.
“Yes. We must have mutual friends. I met you at Jackie Song’s pool party in Mill Valley a couple of months ago. Remember? You must know Jackie. I went to high school with Chad, Andy’s boyfriend and…” Tom waited a long beat before adding, “You’re the ex.”
The finality in that one word sounded like a boom in the cavernous space. It echoed ominously and reverberated, making the ensuing silence extraordinarily uncomfortable. I wished I was clever and quick and knew exactly what to say to verbally derail this train wreck. Especially when I caught a glimpse of hurt in Miles’s otherwise stoic expression.
“I am the ex,” he announced in a British accent. “What a charming recollection you have.”
To his credit, Tom winced. “Oh, shoot. I’m sorry. Your name is Miles, right? I…I didn’t mean to upset you, man. I just remember it was kind of a scene. Somebody called the police and—”
“The police?” I repeated, furrowing my b
row.
“Yeah, one minute everything was cool and the next, it was kind of crazy.” Tom squinted as though he was trying to conjure details.
“Yes, well…” Miles looked away for a moment then turned back to me with a weak smile. “It was an off night.”
“You seem better now.”
“He is.” I moved to stand beside Miles and put my arm around his shoulders. “Hey, thanks for bringing me dessert…honey.”
Miles held eye contact in what I thought might be an attempt at silent communication. And if I read him correctly, he was thanking me. I adjusted my hold around his waist when he twisted to face me. He winked then brushed my hair from my forehead. The gesture was overly familiar but probably perfect for a pretend-boyfriend scenario, so I let it go.
“You’re welcome,” Miles said in a sultry voice, rubbing his pelvis against my upper thigh.
Oh, boy. Sirens went off in my head, warning me to push him back and get away as fast as possible. Miles was trouble. Not the kind I could handle. But I couldn’t make a break without blowing the charade, so I pasted a smile on my face and rested my hands just above his ass.
Tom cleared his throat noisily and stepped toward the exit. “I’m gonna head back to the party. I enjoyed talking to you tonight, Grant. And Miles…it was nice to see you again. I’ll give Chad and Andy your regards.”
Miles tensed in my arms, but Tom was gone before either of us could respond. I wasn’t sure what I would have said anyway. It was all an act. However, I was definitely curious about why we were pretending to be something we weren’t for some random guy neither of us knew well. And judging by his parting line, someone who was a bit of an asshole too.
“You can let me go now,” Miles said in a flat tone.
“Oh. Right.” I released him like a hot potato and paced to the opposite end of the huge stone fireplace. “What was that all about?”
Miles opened his mouth and then closed it before falling into the leather chair Tom had vacated and letting out a theatrical groan. I stared at him for a moment then reclaimed my seat and picked up the dessert plate. I took a bite of tiramisu while I waited for what would no doubt be a long-winded explanation, Miles-style. Too bad I didn’t have popcorn. Any good show needed a tub of buttered popcorn with lots of salt.
“I don’t know what got into me. That was…ridiculous. I guess the idea of that prick coming on to you and then reporting to Andy that I—never mind. Ugh. I messed up your booty call. Will you forgive me?”
I huffed a quick laugh and held up a forkful of dessert. “Well, you did bring me cake.”
Miles chuckled as he leaned over his armrest. “Can I have a taste?”
“Uh…sure.” I leaned in to feed him the bite of cake. This time I wasn’t completely surprised when my dick took notice of his blissed-out sounds again. “Well? What’s the story?”
“Nothing. I had a pride moment and you got caught in the firestorm. I apologize.”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, cutting into another piece of tiramisu with the side of my fork.
“Fine. Tom wanted you, and I strongly disagreed that he should have you.” Miles examined his cuticles, studiously avoiding my gaze.
I rolled my eyes. “That is ridiculous.”
“Were you actually interested in him? I thought I saved you from unwanted—”
“Bullshit. You didn’t fly in here and plop yourself on my knee to save me. Something else is going on. What is it?” When he didn’t answer, I fixed him with a pointed stare and added, “Were you jealous?”
I was joking, and I thought I did a decent job of getting that across this time, but Miles didn’t laugh. He just kept staring at his nails with half-hooded eyes and an arched brow. His quiet, regal bearing fascinated me. I’d never met anyone like Miles. He pulled off badass with a flare most people could never achieve. The proud set of his shoulders and supremely confident expression were appealing in a way I didn’t understand. He had a subtle way of turning the tables, because suddenly I was jealous. And I had no idea why.
Miles finally glanced up at me and smiled. The gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes, but in our dimly lit corner of the wine-tasting room with the glow from the slow-burning fire in the hearth highlighting his auburn hair, he was lovely. Truly lovely.
“You have no idea,” he drawled.
“What does that mean?”
Miles slapped his hand on the armrest in a show of exasperation. “Oh, my God! Why aren’t you following this conversation?”
“Because as usual, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” I snapped irritably.
“Grant, I—oh hey, Miles. Sorry to interrupt,” Ryan said as he walked into the room. He set two wineglasses on the side table and presented a bottle of Conrad’s finest reserve. “What happened to your admirer?”
“Miles scared him away. You might as well give him the extra glass,” I huffed playfully.
“Don’t bother. I should check on the party. I left during the toasts. The deejay is supposed to start soon,” Miles commented, though he didn’t budge from his seat.
“He already started. Everyone is on the floor, and Josh is doing his funny jump dance. It’s hysterical. I think he requested three Lady Gaga songs back-to-back. Great party, Miles,” Ryan gushed as he filled my glass.
“Thanks,” Miles replied distractedly.
Ryan put the bottle down and motioned to the darkened tasting area behind us. “I’m going to wipe down the bar before I head out. You don’t have to go anywhere, but if someone wanders in, send them back outside. Geordie wants to keep this area closed for the night. He’ll be by to lock up in a bit.”
“Got it. Thank you,” I said.
Ryan nodded then hurried to finish closing up. I took a sip of wine and sighed with pleasure before giving Miles a sideways glance. “It’s really good.”
“Hmm. Give me a sip then.” Miles crooked his fingers and reached for my glass.
I pulled away with a scowl. “Nope. Get your own. I’m a germaphobe, and there’s an empty glass next to you.”
“We shared a fork a few minutes ago,” he reminded me.
“Oh…shoot. That’s right. I must have been distracted when you jumped in my lap and told a stranger we were boyfriends.”
“Understandable. But there’s no point in dirtying a clean glass for a sip. I’ll drink from this.” Miles picked up the bottle and took a healthy swig.
I should have been repulsed by the slightly debauched display, but it was so incongruous to his perfectly pressed clothes and elegant air that I couldn’t help thinking he looked sexy as fuck. Not good. Get laid, pronto.
I cleared my throat and leaned in. “So, what was that all about?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“Which part?”
“The pool. Definitely the pool. I recognized Tom earlier and…” Miles took another big gulp of wine and then let out a deep sigh.
“What did you do? Forget your bathing suit? Fart in the shallow end?” I asked, lifting my glass to my mouth.
“Ew. No. I shoved Andy’s new lover into the pool. Fully clothed.” He pointed the bottle at me and then jumped to his feet. “And you know what? I’d do it again in a heartbeat. What I wouldn’t do is dive on top of him and wrestle him in a chokehold. By the time someone pulled me off that little fucker, I’d lost my Speedo and most of my dignity.”
“Whoa! I knew this story was going to need popcorn. Start from the beginning.”
Miles studied me for a long moment then set the bottle on the mantle before turning with a solemn nod. “Okay. I will. My therapist thinks I’ve been internalizing my feelings for too long. She thinks it’s why I’ve been acting out at inappropriate and inopportune times. She says I should talk more.”
“You should talk more?” I repeated with an amused huff.
“About real things, Ding Dong. She thinks my unwillingness to express myself honestly manifested itself in…the pool party. I shouldn�
�t have gone. I RSVP’d no, but I was bored and lonely and thought it would be good for me to see some old friends. My first mistake was not calling Jackie to let her know I’d changed my mind. The second one was not leaving when she told me Andy was there too. Turns out, she’d invited him after I declined the invite. Seven years together means we have a lot of mutual friends who’ve been put in the very awkward position of trying to remain neutral. It’s not easy on anyone, but I thought four months after the big breakup, I could handle being around him for a short stint.”
“It wasn’t so easy, eh?” I prodded sympathetically.
Miles shook his head sadly. “No. He brought my replacement. But the real zinger was that I didn’t know our hairstylist was the one. I didn’t realize it until I saw them together that day. Andy had his arm around Chad’s waist and—I could tell they weren’t a totally new couple. Don’t ask me how. I just knew they’d been fucking around behind my back for months. How stupid am I?”
“Don’t do that, Miles. You aren’t stupid. He’s a jackass.”
“He is,” Miles agreed, continuing in a wry tone. “But then I acted like one too. I couldn’t walk away and pretend to be okay that the man I thought I’d marry one day was banging the guy who’d tried to talk me into highlighting my tips for an extra two hundred dollars the week before the infamous pool party. Needless to say, I saw red and had an epic Beyoncé moment.”
“Excuse me?”
“I was Sasha Fierce and every incarnation of the queen in her Lemonade video, especially ‘Hold Up.’ ” He rolled his eyes at my blank stare. “Come on, Grant. You know the video where she’s swinging a baseball bat at pickup trucks and fire hydrants. No? You need some cultural education, my friend. Anyhoo…I went ballistic. I marched straight up to them with a self-righteous speech just churning away in my cranium. But when I reached them, I froze. The words wouldn’t come fast enough to combat the humiliation, so I did the first thing that popped in my head and pushed Chad into the water.”