Stephan concluded the meeting by ordering several cases without asking for a private tasting. She wasn’t about to suggest one. The less time she spent around “two cents” Stephan, the better for her reputation.
* * *
Brooke had changed out of her business pant suit and put on a pair of slender cut black jeans and matching sweater by the time Ted showed up promptly at seven o’clock for their date.
She was still thinking about how good Billy looked. Most men needed a clean shave to look that shiny. But not Billy. She still wanted to talk to him about his baseball commitments. As long as he kept denying that he was still interested in being involved in baseball in some way, shape or form, it wasn’t going to help anyone. He needed to be honest with himself and Gigi. Too bad if she didn’t like the idea.
Brooke was getting on board with the concept. Why couldn’t he be both a vintner and a high school baseball coach? Or assistant coach, or whatever they called it? As long as he could balance the two, she didn’t see a problem. The problem was in his near constant denial that he wanted anything to do with baseball.
He drove them to Radcliffe’s on the outskirts of town, a nice change of pace. Ted suggested an entrée, but didn’t order for her. So far, so good. He wanted her advice on a wine pairing. Smart man.
So far this was going beautifully, and Brooke had managed to push Billy out of her mind for hours. She hadn’t once thought about how nice it felt to be around a man who opened doors for her (literally and figuratively), someone who seemed to be at ease with the world at large and his place in it. Someone who looked as good in slacks and a blazer as he did in gym shorts.
Someone who had stolen the vineyard out from under her.
Which reminded her, she owed Ted an apology. “I’m sorry I was so angry with you after losing the vineyard. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Perfectly understandable. It had to be disappointing, but hey, it’s worked out rather well for you. Hasn’t it?”
Right back to Billy again. “Yes, Billy’s a great boss. He’s generous, listens to my advice and lets me do my own thing.”
It’s just that it hadn’t worked out quite the way she’d pictured it. She couldn’t claim ownership. That dream was gone. But there was nothing to say that someday another opportunity might come up, and she’d be ready for it. First, she’d make Mirassu rise again. That would show George a thing or two. His enormous success had been at least partially due to her.
The waiter opened the wine, and let Ted smell the cork. Even if Brooke should have been the one to do so, given her expertise.
Ted took a sip and nodded. “I should have let you do this.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind a man taking the lead sometimes.” But why did an image of Billy pop into her head unbidden?
At the end of the date, Ted took her home, and insisted on walking her to the cottage. Of course it wasn’t possible to walk to her cottage without passing the manor house. As they approached the balcony, who should be outside in the late October air but Billy?
“What’s Billy doing here?” Ted asked.
“He lives here. Didn’t I mention that? In the back,” Brooke said. She hadn’t wanted to share that information yet, and honestly hadn’t expected Billy to be hanging around when she got back from her date. Not like she’d seen him hanging around the balcony on any other night.
“Hey Billy,” Ted called out. “How about them Giants?”
“Looking good,” Billy said, raising a bottle of what looked like beer.
Beer? They were going to have words. “Would you like to come up?” She turned to Ted.
Ted’s eyebrows joined his hairline. “Really?”
Why was that so shocking? Ted had been perfectly pleasant and nice all evening. He’d held her hand, put his arm around her waist, and it was all fine. Quite nice. She wasn’t going to sleep with him, but she wouldn’t mind being kissed for the first time in weeks. She missed kissing. When it was done well, naturally, and she wouldn’t mind testing Ted out. He might surprise her. Stranger things had happened.
Before she could answer Billy walked down the steps to join them, shaking Ted’s hand and talking about scores and lingo she could barely comprehend. Ted was a goner when Billy asked for his advice regarding which team had the best chances of winning the World Series.
Brooke’s eyes glazed over as she listened to the men talk. She tried not to be offended by the way Ted gazed at Billy with the eyes of a sports fan. Wasn’t he her date? Didn’t he want to come upstairs, or did the man have Attention Deficit Disorder? Didn’t everybody these days? Was he so easily distracted, or was she just not sexy enough?
“I’m really tired,” Brooke raised her arms and yawned softly. Hint, hint. I’m going upstairs. Take it or leave it, Teddy.
“Okay Brooke. Good-night. I had a really good time tonight. I’ll call you.” Ted smiled in her direction, and continued to chat with Billy.
Well, of all the nerve.
Brooke didn’t return any of Ted’s calls the following week, and he got the message. She hoped Billy and Ted would be very happy together. Brooke moved on.
It wasn’t until two weeks later and two dates that were sidelined by Billy that Brooke wondered if Billy were trying to chase some of these men away. When Billy offered Sean Kowalski, one of the guys she’d met skydiving, his season tickets to the third game of the World Series the man became so discombobulated that he seemed to lose the power of speech. He waved in her direction as he left, holding tight to the tickets as if he’d just found the map to the Fountain of Youth.
“That’s incredible.” Brooke stared at Billy.
“Not really. I’m not going to the game, and they would have just gone to waste.” Billy lifted a shoulder.
She faced him, squaring her shoulders. “That’s not what I mean. Why have you been outside every time I’ve come back from one of my dates?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t aware I had to hide inside. I’m always awake at this time.”
“And you’re not usually outside ready to make a new best friend.”
“Don’t make anything of it. I happen to be up, you happen to come home from your date. Coincidence.”
“Right. I guess that’s true. There must just be something wrong with me, then.” Brooke took off in the direction of her cottage. She threw open the door, and prepared to spend an evening alone with Housewives of Beverly Hills. That show always made her feel good about herself, and tonight she needed a big shot of self-esteem.
She didn’t like playing second fiddle to the enigmatic Billy Turlock. Women loved him, and men admired him. The women thing she couldn’t do anything about, but she would have to find a man in this town who didn’t like baseball. There had to be someone. Somewhere. She’d have to ask Ivey if Noah the male nurse liked sports.
Brooke had just served a heaping serving of Rocky Road ice cream into a bowl when she heard Billy’s forceful knocking again.
She threw open the door, and there he stood in his entire super jock splendor. “What do you want?”
He braced himself inside the frame of the door. “Just wanted to say that for the record, if I were your date there isn’t anything short of a category five hurricane that would keep me from joining you upstairs.”
“Save it. I don’t believe you. You’re trying to sabotage my dates.” She moved aside so he and his athletic ego would have enough room to come in.
He lumbered in and held out his palms. “Look, I happened to be up when you came home. Totally unplanned.”
“Every time? So you aren’t trying to scare all my dates off?”
He grinned. “Okay, that part is totally planned.”
“Aha! I knew it. Why, Billy? Why would you do that to me?”
He reached her in two short strides, grabbing her arms and pulling her roughly to him. Brooke felt all the breath leave her in one single rush when he kissed her. He wasn’t particularly gentle about the kiss, but the way he held her made her feel both precious
and breakable. Her mouth opened under him and he took the invitation and explored. She’d remembered that Billy Turlock could kiss, but this was different. He kissed her now like he had every right to do so, with a kind of possession and authority that left her reeling. She felt the powerful tug of lust ping deep in her belly, just as it had years ago.
Billy pulled away, released her, and walked back to her door. “You’re smart, Brooke. You figure it out.”
Brooke didn’t move for a minute. Billy Turlock had kissed the breath right out of her. That kiss—and he — was so much better than her teenage brain remembered, and that said something. How could he kiss her like that and just walk out? Brooke followed him out the door, climbed the short steps to his residence, and found herself knocking on his door for a change.
She’d only been here once before, trying to stay away from the place where he laid his head at night. Where he showered. Where he couldn’t, or didn’t cook. Where he made love. She didn’t want to know, didn’t need the image burned in her corneas.
When he opened the door he didn’t look at all surprised to see her. “What was that about?” Brooke demanded.
“You still need help figuring it out?” He pulled her inside. “Come here, I’ll help you.”
He pulled her roughly against him again, and her palms went up and against his hard muscled chest. She could stop him, she knew. By saying a single word. Only they didn’t come easy staring into that green gaze. The eyes said too much, and she became overwhelmed by the emotions radiating down to the soles of her feet. She’d never known anyone to talk with his eyes before, but dang if it didn’t seem they were having an entire conversation.
His thumb swept her jaw. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
This time she was the one who lifted her hands from his chest and wrapped them around his neck. He took that as the only invitation required for his sensual mouth to come crashing down on hers again.
His kiss was more of a sensual and decadent experience than a simple kiss. Billy Turlock made love with his mouth. With his talented tongue, hot, wet and probing.
She pulled away, breathless and incoherent with yearning. “Wait a minute.”
Of course he listened. His arms fell away from her and he took a small step back. “Say it, Brooke.”
She already missed him. “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea?”
“It’s a great idea. But you’re right, it will change everything. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been waiting for a long time for this kind of a shift.”
“You’re my boss.” No point in telling him how badly her last relationship had turned out.
“Actually, you’re Pop’s employee. Not mine.”
“What are you talking about? You hired me.”
“Yes, but the way the corporation is set up I’ve made Pop the owner. It was his dream. I’m bank rolling it.”
“So you’re not my boss?”
“Not in the truest sense of the word. No. Why? Is that a problem?”
Brooke swallowed. “No, it’s not a problem. But you and me? Gigi will hate it. She doesn’t trust me.”
“That’s only a bonus, and not the main reason I want you.”
“Don’t joke about this.”
“I know what I want. Maybe it’s time for you to decide what you want. Because what I want is to change everything, and there’s no going back.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is.”
“Is it? You and I are so different …”
“When we were kids. Now we’re adults. I don’t think we have to stay inside our cliques anymore. Do we?”
“But— I like to think we’re friends.”
She didn’t want to ever regret Billy like she did George. Didn’t want to watch Billy throw her over for the young fertile ingénue, and really, what were the odds that a wealthy athlete would get tired of her? After he’d had his fill, of course. She’d probably win big in Vegas on those odds.
“I already have plenty of friends. I want more with you. And if you’re dating, you need to at least give me a shot. Let me take you out.”
So that’s what this was all about. Simple envy for something he couldn’t have? And dating Billy Turlock? The jock? The man who’d let her down once before? “That’s impossible. Everyone is watching. It’s like being under a microscope. They all know who you are, and they’d soon enough figure out who I am.”
“So what? It’s not like I’d want to keep our relationship secret, but there are ways for us to find our privacy. Believe me.”
She’d bet he knew every one of those ways. Brooke backed up to the door and pressed her back against it. “I’m going to go now.”
“Think about it.” Billy again, talking with his bedroom eyes this time. Her imagination was going on a thrill seeking ride thinking about how else he used that tongue.
“I am.” She felt her face grow hot. “I mean, I will,” she said and turned to walk out the door.
She already knew very well what she wanted. She wanted to lie under him in his bed, to discover all his hidden talents. But there was a lurking danger to all of it with Billy. It already felt like he had a piece of her heart, and she hadn’t seen him for nearly half of her life.
What would he do to the rest of her heart, given any more time?
* * *
Thank god for baseball. For training and discipline, mind over matter. For ignoring the body when it was about to give out on you. For realizing your body was almost always more capable than what your mind believed.
If not for baseball, Brooke would be in his bed right now. Consequences be dammed. Because he could sense, given the way she’d kissed him, that she wanted him. And he wanted her so much that it had become a burning ache in his chest.
She kept holding back, and while there were reasons they shouldn’t be together, he could hit every one of them right out of the park. This could work, and he wouldn’t miss this second chance with her. Somehow when he wasn’t looking, he’d fallen headfirst into a haze of lust and longing for Brooke Miller.
His covert plan had nearly not worked for him. He might have chased every lame suitor away, but he hadn’t been prepared for the gentle beat against his heart when he’d caught the pained look in her eyes. He couldn’t let her believe for one second it had anything to do with her. Those men didn’t deserve her if they could be so easily swayed by Series tickets and the attention of a has-been like him.
No, she deserved better than that.
Even in high school, Brooke had deserved better. She never seemed to think so, though. With her jet black hair and black nail polish, she scared most of the kids at Starlight High. As far as he’d been able to tell, she’d had one friend. Ivey Lancaster. But that was also due to the fact that her parents fought over her constantly, and Brooke was forced to spend every summer out of state and living with her father’s new family.
Each time she’d come back she seemed a little bit more pissed off with the entire world, but jocks in particular. And then there were all her causes. At the height of them a little something called world peace, ironic for a girl with a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas. Regardless, Brooke championed one cause after another. She stood outside the cafeteria and collected signatures for petitions. Save the Whales, Save the Arts, Save the Koalas, Better pay for Teachers (and for some reason no one considered her a kiss-ass because of it).
In their senior year, a favorite English teacher had died in a horrible car accident. That’s when he’d discovered that Brooke didn’t cry like most girls. Every girl had bawled uncontrollably, but Brooke had stared into space with a bitter, hard look in her eyes.
She’d scared him a little bit too.
Mostly because she went against every expectation he had about girls, and they were hard enough to understand without Brooke throwing everything off kilter.
In high school he’d been a serial dater. Never had that first love that burned so brightly it threatened to ex
tinguish everything in its path. That wouldn’t have been wise given his aspirations to the Hall of Fame. Wise or not, it hadn’t happened. He dated one girl after another, which might have been how he’d gained his reputation. Because he didn’t kiss and tell, and everyone just assumed. Naturally he’d let them, since he’d been a teenaged jock.
The whole image had suited him well, until Brooke. Now he was half convinced Brooke didn’t want to be one more on the supposedly long list of Billy Turlock conquests.
Even if he’d known from that first kiss long ago that this was the fire that could burn too brightly. That had scared him too. But now —well, now he was ready for one hell of a sunburn.
He picked up his cell phone and dialed Brooke’s number. She answered after the second ring, sounding breathy and like sex on a stick.
“Hey,” he said. “Would you go out with me Friday night?”
There was a short pause. “Listen up. I’m going to tell you something you’ve probably never heard before: no.” She hung up.
Ironically, Brooke had no idea how many times he’d heard the word ‘no’.
No, another surgery won’t help. No, your contract hasn’t been renewed. No, no, no.
He could let that piss him off, and make him angry at her clichéd assumptions. But he was too busy to be angry.
He needed a Plan B.
10
Apologizing to Billy for being a bitch had wound up on Brooke’s list again. Just because she didn’t think it was a good idea to date him didn’t mean she had to be mean about it. Yet a week later, she hadn’t seen much of Billy, much less apologized to him. He’d taken off to LA for a few days to do a commercial for some promo shot with some of the other retired Sliders athletes. He’d been gone four days now, and yet he was supposed to be the face of this business.
He wasn’t fooling her. Billy Turlock was not done with baseball, no matter what he said. Sure, he was currently retired but didn’t all athletes do that to get attention? Retire once only to opt back in. That might be fine with her, because with him gone she’d do even better pretending the place was all hers.
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