Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Alex
I watch with a warm feeling of contentment spreading through me as this bristly goddess—my new boss—slowly deflates, her forehead smoothing and a small smile breaking out like a sunrise across her face. Damn, was she pissed when she realized who I was!
Ryan Murphy had failed to mention how stunning his family's new winemaker was, not that it would have made any difference. But now, as I gaze at Sophie Garrett— the Sophia Garrett of the famous Garrett Heritage wine dynasty of California—and admire the rosy blush that moves up her cheeks as I tease her, I realize how much I'll enjoy this particular assignment.
After working for nearly a decade on a dude ranch in the Texas Hill Country and then managing operations for one of the finest wineries in Texas, I was ready for a new challenge.
And I hadn't lied to her exactly …
I did want to learn wine making from the best in the business. In fact, it is my dream to open my own winery someday. But first and foremost, I am here as a favor for Ryan.
In Ryan’s opinion, something is rotten at the Celtic Knot Winery, the Murphy family's legacy located on the eastern coast of Florida. It's my job to sniff it out and report back anything suspicious. I’m not a detective, but I’m not about to refuse anything Ryan asks and especially not when it comes to his family.
I owe him big time after everything he's done for my brother. They'd served together during several tours in Afghanistan and Ryan saved my brother's ass more times than I can count. So, when Ryan came to me with this, I was more than happy to jump in and help him.
Now that I'm here, ready to dig in and scope out what's really going on, I almost wish the circumstances were different, because I can already tell this woman is something special.
Her honey blonde hair lies in a soft, thick braid over her right shoulder, and her wide, hazel green eyes that only moments ago had been spitting fire are now two gleaming emeralds as she smiles at me. She wears her emotions on her face, and I notice immediately that she's attracted to me. All the subtle clues a woman gives are there: her body leaning slightly forward rather than away, her pupils dilated and cheeks slightly flushed, and her hands unconsciously smoothing her pants as we chat.
Hopefully when this assignment is over, she'll still want me around, but for now, romancing her will have to wait. I need to keep my head in the game and avoid distractions, and boy, oh boy, is she a lovely distraction.
I'll turn up the heat when this is over, I promise myself.
"Oh, good! You've met." The bubbly assistant—I think her name is Isabella—strolls in. She's been a huge help since I arrived and turns a rosy shade of pink whenever I tease her.
Isabella smirks at Sophie. " Now you know what I was talking about."
I watch, fascinated, as Sophie's eyes bulge and her mouth twists like a prune, a kaleidoscope of emotions crossing her face almost faster than I can follow. Her head jerks back and forth in short motions. I bite my lower lip hard as my belly starts to spasm, and a laugh bubbles in my throat, desperate to escape. Laughing right now might destroy our tenuous truce.
Sophie obviously does not want me to hear whatever Isabella is referring to.
"I actually came back here because I have some bad news, unfortunately." The playful tone in Isabella's voice drops. "My mom needs my help tonight, so I can't go to the baseball game with you."
Sophie's eyes go wide. "Oh no! The game is in a few hours. I don't know if I can find anyone else to go with me, and I hate going by myself."
"What about Alex?" Isabella's eager gaze turns to me. "Are you doing anything tonight?"
"No!" Sophie practically shrieks, her eyes widening further and darting to me before returning to Isabella. Taking a deep breath, she smooths her features and continues, "He just got into town. I'm sure he has other plans."
I bite back another laugh at how quickly she tries to shoot that down, not to mention the logical excuse she supplied. The girl can certainly think on her feet. This should be fun.
I also can’t help but notice the way her shirt stretches and clings in a very interesting manner when she takes deep breaths.
If I hadn't already experienced her prickly manner, I might be insulted. But not now, and not after I've already made up my mind about my interest in her.
Nice try, honey. Take me out to the ball game!
"Actually, I don't have plans," I inject, shooting Sophie a big, toothy grin. "I'd love to go to the game with you."
"Oh, yay!" Isabella claps and bounces on the balls of her feet, her cheeks relaxing and a radiant smile breaking out on her face. "You'll love it. It's our local AAA baseball team, the Rockets. They're a farm team, and they're playing Syracuse tonight, and it’s the final week of their season. It's a fun time, and our seats are just behind first base. Plus, the weather is supposed to be great tonight. I think we finally broke that humidity streak."
"Sounds like a great time. Thanks for thinking of me." I watch, fascinated, as Sophie squeezes her eyes shut and flexes her jaw. If steam could shoot out of her ears, it would right then. She is so wonderfully expressive. "Let me know what time you want to leave."
Sophie's eyes snap wide and zoom in on me, her face splotched red as her mouth opens, but nothing emerges. I’ve rendered her speechless, which must be a major accomplishment… or so I tell myself, since she doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who is normally at a loss for words. She starts to shift her weight from one foot to the other.
"You'll want to get to the ballpark by six at the latest," Isabella answers, either oblivious to or unconcerned with Sophie's growing discomfort. "The game starts at seven, but they always have fun activities beforehand and there will be several outstanding food trucks lined up."
I blink as Isabella gasps, hands flying to her mouth. "Oh, my gosh! I just realized something. We have the annual town festival coming up, and you could help with that." She drops a hand on my arm, her gaze intent and voice pleading. "You will be around, right? It would be so great if you man our booth with Sophie. She's introducing our new wine to the public, and I know she'll be super nervous. Brennen was supposed to help her, but he's been spread a little too thin lately." Isabella leans toward me further and lifts a hand to her mouth, stage-whispering behind it. "And Sophie really hates to be around people."
Sophie stomps her foot and finds her voice, her fists clenched and the fire back in her eyes. "Dammit, Isabella, I'm standing right here."
"I'd love to help at the festival. Sounds like a good time," I interject before Sophie can conjure up a reason to keep me away. I also file away the nugget Isabella dropped about Brennen, making a mental note to take the winery’s assistant to coffee for a chat one morning. Something tells me she'll be a treasure trove of information if I ask the right questions. It doesn’t seem like she has much of a filter, at least from the conversations we’ve had so far, and unhampered information can reveal a lot.
I meet Sophie's frustrated gaze and slip on my most earnest and innocent expression—how I imagine a good Catholic choir boy would look while being interrogated by an angry priest who just sat on a whoopee cushion during mass.
"As for tonight, I'll have to check with my boss." I flip her a teasing grin that I hope disarms some of her tension. "But I can leave whenever you'd like." I pat my stomach and glance around the warehouse, the devil on my shoulder deciding that peaceful relations are overrated. "I hope they have good ballpark food. I figure I'll be pretty hungry after getting this place squared away."
As expected, Sophie jerks ramrod straight, her eyes going from spitting fire to blazing inferno in an instant. "I beg your pardon. What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Uh…" Isabella, clearly deciding that anywhere else is a better place to be, backs slowly to the exit. "I'll let you two get to work in here. Bye!" She practically runs out the door, leaving us alone.
"I'll have you know I run a very tight ship here. I've been working in wineries since I could walk, and it's not like I've had much help since I got here. Not that I’ve wanted any," she clarifies.
I hold up my hands placatingly. "I'm not insulting your work, Sophie. Even if I hadn’t known who you were beforehand, I could tell that you know what you're doing the moment I walked in here. But I'm the help you've been looking for. Let me prove it to you. Use me."
Yeah, use me any way you want, honey.
Damn my wandering mind. Something about this spitfire pushes all the right buttons. I can’t help wondering what it would be like if I could help her redirect all that raw emotion… to have those strong, lean legs wrapped around my waist.
Staring into her dazed hazel gaze, I’m fairly certain I’m not the only one whose mind dove head-first into the gutter. Sophie’s pupils are dilated and her sweet, plump lips, that I want to kiss so badly, have parted. She’s definitely not immune.
Shit! This assignment just got way more difficult than I anticipated.
“Okay.” I clap my hands and rub them together, making Sophie jump. “Where should I get started?”
"Wow." My eyes scan the verdant green baseball field spread before me, broken only by the reddish brown of the infield and the brilliant white of the bases and chalk marking the first and third baselines. To say the field was pristinely manicured would be an understatement. The grass is cut in the traditional crisscross pattern both infield and outfield, and not a blade of grass looks to be out of place. Beautiful.
The playing surface is surrounded by rows and rows of colorful spectator seating, which in turn is surrounded by palm trees outside the walls. The ballpark appears relatively new, and the smell of freshly cooked hot dogs wafting along the gentle early-evening breeze makes my stomach growl.
"This place is impressive."
I was right about working up an appetite and had gone out of my way to make myself useful to Sophie today. In just four hours, I managed to change out all the safety valves she'd been working on and cleaned out the old fermentation tanks. They are now ready and waiting for her next batch of wine.
When I told her I'd completed all the projects she'd given me, her face had tightened with frustration. But that passed quickly when she'd reviewed the fruits of my labor. She could grumble all she wanted about having people in her space, but the relief that flashed over her face was enlightening.
She'd gone so far as to grace me with the glimmer of a smile that had transformed her face from beautiful to breathtaking, highlighting the laugh lines at the corners of her mouth and the crinkle beside her hypnotic eyes. Sophie Garrett is a smoke show and my kind of woman. She isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty and is passionate about everything in her life as far as I can see.
She relaxed after that, especially when I told her she should focus on the wine and let me handle everything else. Her shoulders visibly dropped as the tension drained away.
I wonder what it would be like if I started kissing her there and worked my way up her neck to her earlobe?
A warm contentment bubbles in my chest and spreads to my fingertips at the thought that I can give her peace of mind and make her life just a bit easier.
"It's about a year old and has been a big community draw. I've only been here a handful of times," Sophie comments. "But it's always a fun time."
She points to our left. "The food vendors are that way."
We load up on hot dogs, popcorn, and beer, and head to our seats right behind first base.
"Ahhhhhh…" I sigh as I take my first sip of beer and lean back. "Isabella was right. This is a perfect view of the field."
I take several deep gulps of my beer. "Damn! This is good." I hold it up to hers for a toast. "Here's to a fantastic night with beautiful company and outstanding beer!"
Sophie's cheeks pinken prettily, and her lips curve into a full smile at the compliment as she raises her plastic cup to mine. I pat myself on the back that I finally got the smile I’ve worked so hard for all day.
"Cheers!" she answers before she takes a sip. "The food here is pretty damn good, too," she jokes.
My brows shoot up, loving this playful side of her. "I believe you." I bite into my hot dog and moan as the savory flavors of beef, ketchup, mustard, and relish explode on my tongue. "I don't know if this is really good, or if I'm just super hungry."
Sophie chuckles before she takes a small bite of her own. "Why not both?" she says around her first bite. "You definitely earned it after all the progress you made today."
That comment makes me sit back and blink. She is actually being nice to me.
Her lower lip pops out in a cute little pout at my pause. "You don't have to look so surprised. You did a great job today, which pushed my timetable up a couple of weeks. I didn't expect you to get it all done in one day. Now that those tanks are done, I can fast track the next batch of wine I have planned."
The warmth from earlier blossoms again in my chest, working its way through to my extremities—ALL of my extremities, which is awkward given our close quarters and how tight my jeans currently are. It’s a damned good thing I’ve got the hot dog tray and a napkin on my lap.
Just keep making eye contact and pray to God she doesn’t look down!
"Thanks for that, Sophie. I was serious when I said I wanted to learn from the best. I’ve studied your family’s winery for years, and I’ve read everything you’ve written about the industry."
She snickers. "I would assume so if you came all the way out here from Texas. Most wine people compete for an apprenticeship in California rather than Florida."
"Yeah, well…" I press my lips together, wracking my brain for a good way to phrase my next thought and hope I don’t insult her when I open my mouth. "I think California is a little overrated. Don't get me wrong—they produce amazing wines. But there are so many other places in the country—hell, in the world—that can do the same thing or better. Like Texas, Oregon, Washington, Michigan, Indiana, New York, Colorado… the list goes on and on. Great wine is made in a lot of places now, but many folks in California think if it doesn’t come from Napa or Sonoma then it’s bottom shelf crap."
"I completely agree. It's one of the many reasons why I accepted the job at Celtic Knot."
"I wondered about that. Your entire family and your legacy is in California wine country from what I could find online. Why would you come to Florida by yourself to take over a small winery in the middle of nowhere? If you don't mind me asking, that is."
"I don't," Sophie says, her tone light and relaxed.
"My family is…" She sighs and is quiet for a moment, eyes losing focus as if she’s searching for the proper word. "Difficult," she finally finishes. "My father and brothers are like dictators when it comes to winemaking—the family way or the highway. They never let me experiment, always shooting down my ideas because they don't conform with the family standard. I love traditional wines and my family’s wines above all, but I also want to put something of myself into each bottle. Every varietal, harvest, and barrel—they’re all unique in small ways. I just felt like I had more to offer than doing the same thing the same way for no better reason than ‘that’s how we’ve always done it.’ The Celtic Knot Winery was desperate and at rock bottom when I got here. But it won't be a laughingstock for long if I have anything to say about it."
Her face scrunches, chagrin shining in her gaze. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get on my soap box there."
"No, don't apologize." I shoo away her concern with a flip of my hand. "I appreciate your honesty and understand wanting to branch out and do your own thing. My family in Texas is huge and very traditional. The men go into the military and the women get married and raise families." I shrug. "I chose a different path, and they didn't take it well. Still haven’t if I’m being honest. Coming out here was a blessing, and I'm grateful for the opportunity."
Sophie's lips flatten, and she exhales sharply through her nose. "I owe you an apology for the way I reacted when you arrived. Brennen had walked in only an hour earlier and told me about you. I had no idea about the scholarship and had zero time to digest it. If you haven’t already guessed, I hate surprises."
"Again, no need for apologies. I got the impression that Brennen has his hands full, so that doesn't concern me in the slightest."
Sophie snorts. "Yeah, you could say that. The man is so stressed out he looks like his head will explode at any minute. I don't know what's going on with him, but I think it's about way more than just the winery."
My antennae twitches at the information. "Maybe it's something personal, rather than work," I reply, keeping my tone light to draw out more.
"Could be." She lifts a toned shoulder. "As long as he leaves me alone to make wine, I don't really care."
I grunt and take another huge bite of my hot dog, thoroughly enjoying myself. The pregame activities commence, and I chuckle as several kids dance in a competition with the mascot, a large blue rocket, in the infield.
An hour later, the game is in full swing, and the Rockets are up by three. It's the fifth inning, and I’m enjoying the way Sophie is fully engaged in it. Many couples around us are engrossed in their phones, barely watching the action on the field or talking with each other. But not us—we're both absorbed; commenting, and heckling the visiting team with vigor.
As the game progresses, Sophie smiles more and more, laughing at my lame jokes and cheering like a teenager at a high school championship game. She’s shifted in her seat toward me, now shoulder to shoulder and the warmth of her skin seeps through the thin sleeve of my T-shirt. Her sexy legs are on full display with the pair of shorts she’s wearing, and the evidence of hard work on her feet all day is right in front of me. Her thighs are long, lean muscle that screams athlete, and I’m having a tough time paying attention to the game when they rub against mine on occasion. It's totally innocent on her part—at least I think it is—but I can't help the way my body responds.
I'd noticed how very attractive she is throughout the afternoon as we worked on separate tasks. She is quite literally my ideal counterpart: just the right height with the top of her head reaching my chin, long legs that would easily tighten around my waist, a nicely sculpted ass that begs to be cupped or spanked—her choice— perky, full breasts that fill out her work shirt nicely, and those luscious lips that I instinctively know would feel amazing on mine.
In fact, I’ve been fighting the urge to lean over and kiss those lips all night. Her smiles are fast and furious as she relaxes, and she trades barbs with me in a playful tone. She isn’t shy at all with her opinions, which I find infinitely appealing.
Sophie is the full package, and I send up another thankful prayer that Ryan chose me for this task.
The crowd around us lets out a roaring laugh, and I glance at the huge screen across the field. I chuckle as I watch the kiss-cam land on a random couple a few seats away, the woman blushing and waving away the man's attempts. Poor guy.
Then Sophie gasps beside me, and it takes a moment for my brain to register that we're front and center on the screen now. The spectators around us urge us on.
Fuck it. I'm going all in!
I toss my bucket of popcorn to the side, kernels flying everywhere as I swivel toward her and wrap a hand behind Sophie's head, lightly gripping her soft braid.
Her eyes widen as she realizes my intent, but surprisingly she doesn't pull away. Instead, her plump lips part and her lovely hazel eyes dilate. This is not going to be a polite little peck. I'm determined to make an impression.
The crowd roars as my lips slant across hers, possessing her mouth. Sophie's hand grips the back of my neck as she purrs a soft moan into my mouth, and she shivers as my tongue traces along her bottom lip before I dive in. She's intoxicating and oh, so responsive.
It’s official—I can't wait to get Sophie into my bed.
Suddenly, I start to wonder… Who is possessing who?