15. Emma
Fifteen
Emma
R eturning to the vineyard after convincing Leone to resign his job in the city and take over as CEO felt surreal. I flipped through the photos from Kate with several attachments - photos she’d taken for the winery’s website and social media accounts. I swiped through them one by one, appreciation swelling within me for her keen eye in capturing the essence of our little slice of paradise. And then, one image made me pause.
Lily and I, eyes crinkled with laughter as we talked amid the vibrant green rows. A simple snapshot, yet it radiated the kind of effortless joy that money can’t buy. My chest tightened as I studied our matching grins, so utterly content in that single moment.
Ridge’s words from that night on the roof resurfaced, unbidden. “I wish I could take them to the River or the lake.” That wistful longing had been palpable, even through his usual easygoing demeanor. An idea began to take shape.
By the time I slid behind the wheel of my truck, I had made up my mind. A few taps on my phone, and Ethan’s reassuring voice confirmed he could handle things at the winery for the day. Perfect.
I made a beeline for my little shed-turned-home, kicking off my travel-worn flats and shimmying into a pair of well-loved jeans. A soft t-shirt and light jacket completed the casual look - the temperatures were dipping lower with each passing week, no longer conducive to sundress frolicking.
Next stop, the kitchen. I rummaged through the pantry, assembling a small stockpile of snacks - crackers, cheese, grapes, the usual suspects. Can’t have hungry kiddos on our hands. With a satisfied nod, I transferred the provisions into a woven basket, adding a couple bottles of our crisp white wine. One can never have too many options for the adults. A jug of grape juice rounded out the spread for the little ones.
All prepared, I hoisted the basket and made my way across the property to Ridge’s ranch office. My knuckles rapped out a cheery rhythm on the worn wooden door.
“Come on in,” Ridge’s gruff voice beckoned from inside.
I stepped through the doorway, my gaze landing on the ruggedly handsome man behind the desk, paperwork neatly stacked surrounding him. Avery was sprawled out on the beat-up couch, one little arm dangling off the side as she played peacefully. Just the sight of Ridge brought a warmth to my cheeks that had nothing to do with the temperature.
“Hey,” he greeted, green eyes brightening momentarily before his brow furrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“Are Lily and Cody home?” I eyed the sleeping toddler, knowing Sundays were usually reserved for family time.
“Yeah, they’re out back with Jonny, grooming the horses.”
“And how about you?” I asked, unable to stop myself from drinking in every rugged detail – from the crease between his furrowed brows to the way his plaid shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders.
One side of his mouth kicked up in that trademark smirk. “Is this an interrogation, little bird?”
That ridiculous nickname again, somehow both infuriating and endearing all at once. I rolled my eyes, giving my head the smallest shake. “No, just…wondering if you and the kids would maybe like to go down to the stream? On vineyard property?”
Ridge’s eyes narrowed for a beat before glancing out the window, seemingly weighing my offer. I could practically see the wheels turning as he debated accepting an olive branch from his prickly neighbor.
When his gaze returned to me, I fought not to fidget under the weight of that intense stare. “The stream, huh?” A dawning smile slowly spread across his face, crinkling the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes in a way that did bizarre things to my pulse. “Thought that might be off limits, being Vineyard property and all.”
“Well, I’m making an exception,” I gave a nonchalant shrug, fighting to keep my expression casual despite the way my heart was tap dancing against my ribcage. Was I really about to invite Ridge McCords on a picnic? With his kids? The words nearly strangled in my throat, but I mustered every ounce of determination and added, “If you’re interested, that is.”
For one torturous moment, Ridge simply studied me, his expression inscrutable as those penetrating green eyes bored into mine. I couldn’t read his thoughts, but I could have sworn I detected a slight muscle ticking in that chiseled jaw, giving away the internal battle he seemed to be waging.
Then, so agonizingly slow, he rose from the chair, his powerful frame unfolding like a predator about to pounce on its prey. With several prowling strides, he closed the distance between us until he towered over me, near enough that I could smell his earthy, masculine scent—just a hint of sweat and well-worn leather. My breath hitched as he leaned in closer still, the roughened stubble along his jaw scratching my flushed cheek when his lips brushed the delicate shell of my ear.
“If you want me to do something,” he murmured in that maddeningly low rasp that curled my toes, “just say the word, little bird.”
A shiver danced down my spine at the rumbling timbre, the teasing lilt he gave my ridiculous nickname sending a new blush blossoming across my skin. Gathering every scattered brain cell, I tilted my head back to meet his smugly arched brow with what I hoped was an equally impassive stare rather than the lusty, awestruck expression I felt spreading across my face.
“Well then, Mr. Cowboy,” I managed in a tone far breezier than I felt, “take a break and we can go on a picnic.”
The teasing glint in Ridge’s eyes dimmed momentarily, that infuriatingly blank mask slipping back into place as he straightened and put a few crucial inches between us. My lungs burned, realizing I’d been holding my breath while caught in his sphere. When he didn’t respond right away, panic began to set in that I’d severely overstepped, misread every single brewing spark between us over these past few months.
Just as I started mentally berating myself, the corner of his mouth quirked upward in an approving slant. “I’ll go grab the rugrats,” he stated simply, already turning on his boot heel and striding for the door with that bowlegged ranch swagger.
I released the breath I’d been holding in a relieved whoosh, my knees actually wobbling with a dizzying mixture of lingering desire and bone-deep gratitude that he’d agreed. Sinking onto the beat-up leather sofa beside Avery, I resisted the urge to bury my flushed face in my hands, choosing instead to focus on taking long, steadying inhales through my nose.
Get a grip, Emma, I chastised myself sternly. It’s just a picnic with the neighbours. Ignore the fact that said neighbour is six-feet-and-then-some of gorgeous, gruff, single-dad perfection who you’ve been semi-lusting after for weeks now. Nothing to set your heart pounding and your internal thermostat spiking…
The office door banged open, admitting a flurry of rowdy voices that jarred Avery to jump into my arms. Ridge reappeared, wrangling two squirming, giggling bodies under each arm—a tiny denim-clad tornado and her blond pigtailed counterpart. My breath caught at the sight of him, so effortlessly paternal and protective, his stern features completely transformed by the adoring grin he bestowed on his daughters.
“You two quit that wiggling and listen up,” he rumbled in that no-nonsense dad-voice, somehow making the command sound more gruff than harsh. Immediately, Lily and Cody stilled, twin sets of bright eyes locking on their father with rapt attention. “Miss Emma’s taking us on a picnic down by the stream, if you munchkins can mind your manners.”
The high-pitched shrieks of unrestrained glee threatened to scramble my eardrums as the youngest McCords predictably vibrated with excitement, their chubby legs kicking wildly. Even Cody couldn’t contain the dimpled grin splitting his freckled cheeks as Ridge deposited them on the floor with an affectionate ruffle of Lily’s messy curls.
Lily and Cody didn’t need to be told twice. The second Ridge’s boots hit the ground, they were off like unleashed torpedoes, shrieking with glee as they raced toward the glittering creek in the distance. Scooby, the massive Labrador Ridge had, bounded along at their heels, yapping and lurching in a tangle of wagging tail and flailing limb.
“You two stay where I can see you!” Ridge hollered after the rapidly disappearing figures, his deep voice reverberating with a familiar mixture of stern warning and resigned endearment.
Shifting Avery higher on his hip, he shook his head, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before glancing sidelong at me. One dark brow inched upward as he jerked his chin in the direction the kids had fled. “You sure about this, little bird? Still, time to back out before the circus arrives.”
A surprising burst of laughter bubbled up from my chest at his dry attempt at humor. Squinting against the midday sun peeking through the trees, I watched as Lily flung herself into the shallow creek with a mighty splash, Cody following suit a beat later. Droplets of water glittered like diamonds in the air before raining back down in a sparkling mist.
In that moment, everything else faded away—All that mattered were those two tiny, carefree souls, entirely consumed by the simple pleasures of sunshine and playtime and nature.
“And miss the fun?” I quipped, already shrugging off my jacket and bending to roll up the hems of my jeans. “You’d have to be crazy.”
Then I was tearing off across the grassy bank, uncaring of the chill that immediately prickled my bare arms, of the way my hair whipped wildly across my face with every sprinting stride. Lily released a squeal of pure delight as I hurtled into the creek beside her, crisp water surging over the tops of my boots and soaking through the denim in seconds. Not that I cared in the slightest as I scooped the gurgling little girl into my arms and spun in a circle, every inch of me coming alive under the magic of her tinkling laughter.
Cody aimed a wicked splash in my direction that I only half-dodged, shrieking at the icy shock against my cheek. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now, mister!” I crowed, doubling over with breathless laughter that only escalated when Lily promptly launched herself at her big brother, intent on exacting swift retaliation.
I was only vaguely aware of Ridge watching on from the bank, one hand shielding Avery’s eyes, while the other pressed firmly to his stomach as his deep chuckles mingled with his daughters’ high-pitched giggles. In that blissful pocket of time, the world beyond the four of us simply ceased to exist—no looming deadlines or vineyard pressures, no ghosts from our respective pasts weighing us down. Just pure, unfettered happiness flowing as freely as the bubbling creek.
Eventually, the morning chill began to sink under my skin, and I lifted my face to take in our tiny slice of paradise. The massive oaks and sycamore trees swayed gently in the crisp breeze, rustling the last of the changing leaves in a kaleidoscope of amber and crimson and rust. Sunlight filtered through the branches in bright dappled patterns, sparking off the clear rushing water like a thousand scattered gemstones. Utterly breathtaking. I made a mental note to see if I could steal Kate away to take some promotional photos for the website and tasting room. Nothing could possibly capture the magic of this place better.
Climbing onto the bank, I moved to retrieve the tote of wine and cheese and fruit and the cozy flannel blanket I’d packed, only to pause mid-stride. Because Ridge was already there, blanket spread out neatly in a dry spot beneath a twisting oak, the tote’s contents artfully arranged like he was setting up for a freaking photoshoot.
His forest green gaze clashed with mine over the picturesque scene, that infuriatingly smug half-smile tugging at his lips as he dropped into a casual seated position, one booted ankle crossed casually over the opposite knee. Patting the blanket beside him, he arched one brow in silent challenge.
“You just going to stand there admiring the view all day, little bird?”
Heat prickled along the back of my neck at the light tease lacing his tone, warring with the shiver of awareness that trickled down my spine. Jaw clenched, I marched over and lowered myself onto the corner of the blanket farthest from his tempting radius, suddenly craving that maddening distance again.
Not that it did a damn bit of good. No matter where I tried to focus—on the bubbling laughter still drifting from the creek, on the bursts of sunshine winking through the trees, on the plump grapes and oozing brie mere inches from my fingertips—my senses remained utterly consumed by his nearness. By the fresh, earthy scent of him. By the tickling heat radiating from his solid frame and the utterly masculine sprawl of his limbs that demanded every inch of my periphery.
An entire universe seemed to exist in the scant feet between us, hot and electric, simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. Sneaking a sidelong glance, I couldn’t halt the shaky exhale at finding his heavy-lidded gaze already boring into me, those kissable lips curved in a heart-stopping grin.
“What?” I breathed before I could stop myself.
Ridge’s smile deepened as he lifted one broad shoulder in an infuriatingly casual shrug that still managed to draw my eyes to the solid plane of his chest, then lower…
“Just enjoying the view, little bird.”
“So you scared of the water or something?” The teasing lilt slipped out before I could rein it in, my mouth curving into an impish grin as I cocked a challenging brow in Ridge’s direction.
One of his shoulders lifted in an indolent shrug, drawing my wandering gaze to the flex of damp cotton straining across his broad chest. “Nah,” he drawled, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just thought I’d grab a few moments of peace before joining the chaos.”
He jerked his chin toward the creek, where Lily and Cody’s squeals had escalated to a true din, punctuated by Scooby’s booming barks as the oversized Labrador bounded through the shallows. My smile widened at the heartwarming scene—Cody hoisting his giggling little sister onto his back while she clung to his neck like a baby koala, both of them shrieking with glee as Scooby circled them in a frenzy of rowdy splashing.
“Want some?”
The low rumble of Ridge’s voice had me tearing my gaze from the joyful chaos to find him holding out a soft wedge of creamy brie, those long fingers calloused and blunt in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive. And yet my mouth watered at the simple gesture, as desire detonated low in my abdomen like an ember catching flame.
Before I could respond—or potentially make a fool of myself by fixating too long on his hands—the callused pad of his thumb swiped gently across my cheekbone, snagging a few stray grains of sand. My breath stuttered in my lungs as his touch lingered, scorching a blazing trail across my skin. Dark lashes,lowered instinctively, unable to tear my gaze from the tantalizing curve of his beautifully sculpted mouth as his teeth snagged his plump bottom lip.
“Dad…go dere.”
The husky command shattered the heavy tension blanketing us. Avery wriggled in Ridge’s lap, her tiny brow furrowed into an almost comical scowl as she tugged insistently on the soft henley stretching across his chest. A startled laugh tumbled up my throat at the ferocious intensity blazing in those deep green eyes surrounded by a halo of tawny curls—an uncanny mirror of her father’s piercing stare.
“You’re right, Avis.” The roughened timbre of Ridge’s voice had me dragging my gaze upward to find him grinning down at his youngest with ill-concealed adoration. Pressing a noisy smack to her chubby cheek, he passed her to me before surging to his feet in one sinuous movement. Looming over us with hands braced on lean hips, a wicked glint sparked in those crystalline depths. “The girls have spoken. Time to join the war zone.”
Avery squealed in delight and immediately began squirming in my arms to be put down. “Careful there, pixie,” I cautioned with a laugh, depositing her on the blanket where she could scamper off on those wobbly legs in chase of her dad.
Who, rather than rushing to meet his other two wildlings, moved with measured, predatory strides to the creek’s edge and held out one booted foot, testing the water. My laughter trailed off, mouth going dry as he gripped the hem of his shirt, peeling the soft, wrinkled fabric up and over those rigid abdominal muscles that clenched and released with each controlled breath.
Sweet mercy. Who knew a man simply removing his shirt could be such a visceral experience?
Every millisecond seemed to stretch into eternity as Ridge slowly revealed tanned, toned expanses of olive skin and crisp, dark hair that arrowed invitingly below the waistband of his worn jeans. Finally, the shirt cleared his head in one sinuous motion, exposing thick cords of muscle rippling along shoulders and biceps and forearms from a lifetime of hard labor. I may have actually whimpered at the magnificent sight before me.
Apparently the sound carried across the clearing, because Ridge went preternaturally still, his head tilting a fraction to pin me with a heated sidelong look from beneath those ridiculously thick eyelashes. A slow, predatory smile stretched across that mouth I’d just been coveting as he braced both hands on his brawny hips, emphasizing the carved ridges of his abdomen that narrowed into the most delicious vee pointing south…
“You coming in or you just gonna sit there and stare all day, little bird?”
The low, gravel-rough challenge simultaneously spiked my blood pressure and obliterated what little willpower remained. “Watch out, Cowboy,” I growled, shoving to my feet and stalking forward with purpose, unable to resist skimming my fingers along the slick, bronzed skin of his arm as I brushed past. “Pretty sure you’re the one who’s going to be regretting getting into the warzone with me.”
Then I was sprinting for the creek, blocking out his rich laughter rolling across the grassy bank, the high-pitched shrieks of his kids egging me on. All that mattered was the delicious chill engulfing my legs as I dove into the shallows, the surging current sluicing up my back in a heady rush of adrenaline.
No sooner did my head break the surface than a massive wall of icy liquid came crashing down, momentarily obliterating my senses in a torrent of shocking pleasure-pain. Sputtering, I shook the drenched tendrils of hair from my face in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of Ridge’s bare skin disappearing below the churning water, powerful body surging into an undeniable riptide.