Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Bolts twisted on either side of his jugular. He’d found his mother’s request that he attend the Wine Down Napa festival a little odd, but he didn’t anticipate this. How bad were things? And . . . was he still so unwanted in the family business that she wouldn’t even ask for his help in a desperate situation? Yes, his father had made it very clear he didn’t want Julian’s influence on the vineyard. But his mother? Maybe she had even less faith in him than he’d realized. After his humiliating behavior after the fire, could he blame her?
“My mother mentioned none of this,” he managed.
“I’m sorry.” Hallie offered him the Parmesan, lowering it back down to her side when he declined with a curt head shake.
"I’m more of a goat cheese type.”
She did a double take. “Okay, Satan.” She nudged him in the ribs to let him know she was joking, and he barely resisted catching her wrist, keeping her hand there. Near. “If it makes you feel any better, I got extremely drunk last night on a bottle of Vos Sauvignon Bl . . .”
She trailed off, her face losing some of its rosy color.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. Just how much had that scrawny manager upset her? “I’m going back in there,” he growled, wheeling back toward the shop.
“No!” She caught his elbow, stopping him. “I’m . . . I’m okay.”
Clearly that wasn’t true. “Too much Parmesan?”
“No, I just . . .” Suddenly she seemed unable to look him in the eye. “I just remembered I forgot to tip my Uber driver from last night. And he was really good. He even waited for me while I made a stop.”
Why did she sound almost winded by the oversight?
“You can tip after the fact.”
“Yes.” She looked right through him, glassy-eyed, her color high. “Yes. I can. I will.”
“Does this hangover have anything to do with the decision to burgle cheese?”
“No.” She visibly shook herself, but her color was slow to return, voice slightly unnatural. “Maybe a little. But it didn’t help matters when the Tweed Twit walked into Corked like an entitled troll and made off with two dozen wineglasses, claiming UNCORKED needed them more.”
“Ah.” Irritation snaked through him all over again. “I’m extra glad I didn’t give him a selfie.”
“Speaking of which.” They walked down the sidewalk while Hallie tried and failed to tuck the cheese block into the front pocket of her jeans. Honestly, she was a constant jumble. And he couldn’t seem to take his damn eyes off her nonetheless. “What alien documentary?”
“It’s nothing,” he responded briskly.
“No way it’s nothing.” She laughed, and he was relieved to see her looking less pale than a moment ago. “Also, you promised an explanation, Vos. I demand satisfaction.”
A corner of his lips tugged. “Yes, I’m aware. I just don’t like to talk about it.”
“You just caught me committing a robbery. Give me something.”
He grew momentarily fascinated by her cajoling smile. Hungover or not, she still had her glow, didn’t she? Her brand of discombobulated beauty. And a lot like the first two times he’d been in the presence of Hallie, the pressure of his schedule seemed to have receded. But it tried to roar back into focus now, demanding he regroup. His watch became heavier on his wrist, minutes flying by without being accounted for. “Right, I’ll explain. But I have writing to do . . .”
She blinked at him, and he nearly leaned in to get a better look at the black circle around her irises. Is that what made their color so . . . distracting? He could take half an hour, couldn’t he?
Might as well face facts. Hallie was a stick of dynamite to his peace of mind, and he couldn’t seem to adhere to his plans when she was around. Especially when she tilted her head one way and squint-smiled up at him, the sun basking in that crease in the middle of her bottom lip. And the fact that he was noticing these details in lieu of the ticking clock meant something was seriously wrong with him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“I was just thinking the morning could have turned out a lot different,” she said. “If you hadn’t intervened, that is. Thank you. That was pretty heroic.”
What was the odd feeling in his middle? Heroic he was not. Yet he couldn’t help but covet Hallie thinking of him that way. To have this woman smile at him was some sort of celestial reward he didn’t know he’d been missing. When was he going to get enough of it? Soon, hopefully. This couldn’t very well be sustained. “No one should ever yell at you.”
She blinked. Was she breathing faster now? He wanted to know. Wanted to get close and study her and mentally file away the patterns of her behavior. The pathways to her Hallie Smiles.