Secretly Yours (A Vine Mess #1) Read Online Tessa Bailey

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
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And with whom.

You can like it. Just don’t reward him for it.

“Keep wondering, I guess.”

His right eyebrow went up so fast, it nearly made a whooshing sound. “Keep wondering?” A blast of lightning briefly turned the kitchen white. “That’s what you’re . . . giving me . . .”

When he didn’t continue, she prompted him. “What’s wrong?”

Several seconds passed. His chest started to move faster, up and down, his head ticking slightly to the right. Recognition slowly registered in his eyes, and he cursed low and sharp under his breath. “Your hair wasn’t curly back then.”

What was he talking about? She had no idea, although her pulse was beginning to zigzag, as if it knew something was coming. “Back when?”

“That’s how we know each other.” He eagerly traced her features with his gaze. “We went for a walk together in the vineyard. The night my sister threw that party.”

She blinked rapidly, pulse kicking into an even faster gallop. “Wait, you . . . remember?”

Julian nodded slowly, perusing Hallie as if seeing her for the first time.

This decade, at least.

“My friend straightened my hair that night. She thought it made me look older.” A corner of her lips jumped. “It fooled you. Until I fessed up to being in your sister’s grade.”

“Right.” His mouth opened and closed. “I thought you had to be from a different school. I never saw you in the halls after that. Anywhere.”

“My mother took me back on the road.” God, she sounded like she’d been running on a hamster wheel. “It wasn’t until you’d left for college that I settled into St. Helena permanently with my grandmother.”

“I see.” A shadow crossed his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. My sister threw that party without permission. Without planning or telling me first. I tend to . . .”

"What?”

This appeared hard for him to say out loud. “I’ve been known to check out after I lose control of a situation. It makes my memory spotty. Not to mention the alcohol I drank . . .”

Knowing what she did about him now, that made sense, though she suspected there was a much more elaborate explanation behind checking out. “You’re forgiven.”

A handful of heavy seconds ticked by.

“Am I?” Slowly, he crowded her closer to the island. Their chests pressing together, her head tipping back. Rain pounded the windows. “I’d like to be one hundred percent sure that you don’t hold my cloudy memory against me.” His breath stirred her hair. “I want to feel you forgive me. I want to taste it in your mouth.”

Mother Mary, he had a way with words. “Maybe that’s a good idea,” she managed, legs almost losing strength completely. “For the sake of closure and all.”

“Right,” he rasped. “Closure.”

And then his fingers were sliding into her hair. He rubbed her curls between the pads of his thumb and index finger, as if fascinated. His warm breath accelerated so close to her mouth, and it was a heady thing, their inhales and exhales matching, quickening, their gazes linking. Holding. His was glazed. Heavy. He looked at her mouth as though it would anchor him in a storm, and he went for it desperately.

Hallie’s lower back flattened against the island, and he quickly moved with her, rubbing his thumb against her cheek, as if apologizing for coming on so strong. But he didn’t seem capable of slowing down, either. He took rough pulls of her mouth, tilting her head sideways and taking deep tastes. Thorough and savoring. My God.

Their tongues plunged and collided, causing her to whimper and Julian to groan, and that sound raced in her blood like rocket fuel. In seconds, this had gotten completely out of control, and Hallie loved being punted straight out of reality. Craved the unpredictability of his mouth and the unexpected courses taken by his hands. His right one left her curls to scrub down her spine, just like he’d done in the vineyard fifteen years earlier, but now the man gripped fabric and pulled her body closer. Their bodies just kind of melted, like liquefied metal being poured into a mold. Curves fit into peaks, muscle flexed against softness.

“I like it when you’re standing in one place,” he growled, breaking the kiss so they could suck down heavy pulls of air. “When you hold still.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she whispered breathily.

“No?” His mouth opened on her hairline. “Would you like me to unzip these shorts so you can move better, Hallie?” She found herself nodding before he even finished posing the question. At the mere suggestion they get rid of the denim barrier between them, her shorts became unbearable. An offense. Looking her right in the eye, he lowered her zipper and shoved them down her hips, a whoosh followed by the material hitting the floor, the buttons making a metallic clink. After several breaths lost among the thunder, his hand curled around Hallie’s wrist, guiding her own hand to her upper thigh. Higher, until her fingertips almost met her panties.


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