Just a Kiss: The Single Girls Wine Club (A Wine Country Romance #1) (6 page)

BOOK: Just a Kiss: The Single Girls Wine Club (A Wine Country Romance #1)
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“The pleasure is mine, Sarah.”

She sucked a deep breath, observed a cow out the window and tried to think of something to say while leaning so far away from his shifting hand, her ribs pressed against the door handle.

“This is my first Harvest Festival,” Sarah said and waited for Jamie to say something. Unfortunately, he didn’t. “I mean, of course, I’ve been to Harvest Festivals before. When we…when I, lived in the city, I used to come to Sonoma for the festival and stay overnight. But, it’s the first time for the Vine. I’ve only been open six months.”

She bit her lower lip and pressed with her teeth.
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
“I want to do an elegant presentation using moon-shaped cookies and maybe a hand cut vine made of dough. It has to be unique though, so I thought I’d get the platters early to practice.”

“You used to live in the city?” Jamie asked.

“Yes.” Sarah pursed her lips. “I owned Sweet Mo Café on Fillmore.”

“Were you there alone?”

“Nope, co-owner. I had a…partner,” she said to the window.

“Business partner?” Jamie asked.

“Business and romantic. He was my fiancé.”
What am I doing talking about Robert? Please, dear God, get off this subject.
“Here’s Bonness Road. Take a left by that rickety mailbox.”

Jamie used his palm to guide the car into the turn. “You had a fiancé?”

“Yes, I did have one, but I don’t anymore.”

“Did he die?” Jamie asked, and Sarah deliberated her answer.

“No, he didn’t die. I found his butt in the air, humping my friend and accountant on that marble topped pastry table I have in the kitchen.”
Oh. My. God. What did I just do? Stop telling this story. Do not continue this conversation.
“Why did you ask if he died?” Sarah asked. “I guess I probably should’ve killed him, but—”

“Hey. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.” He shifted gears. “You said fiancé, so obviously you loved him. I just can’t imagine any man you loved would ever want to leave.”

Sarah's mouth stayed open for at least two seconds before she closed it.

“Here it is.” Jamie pulled into the lot. “Should I park here or go through the gates?”

“Right here is fine," Sarah said. “The platters are light. We’ll carry them and walk.”

The car crunched over the rough gravel before sliding into an open spot. Sarah scrambled out the car and rushed ahead to the keypad. She punched the code, and the double gates opened.

“In a hurry?” Jamie called out from the car.

Sarah turned and saw the love-god-he-man taking long strides toward her. His jeans were just the right amount of tight, faded and fit, and his navy blue shirt tugged around his chest. His sandy hair tousled sexily in a bed-head way when he moved. His green eyes almost sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. He looked happy.

Jamie caught her staring, so she turned back, slowing her pace toward the entrance until she felt him close behind her. They moved through the bright lobby and into the first-floor service elevator together without a word.

While tucked inside, the metal door closed with a thick iron
clunk
and a
bang
. They had to wait for the rickety four by four elevator to gather enough energy to lift loudly off the first floor. Her eyes adjusted to the semidarkness.

Tiny electric charges fluttered through her as they rode in silence, inches away from each other. With a loud screech and a thud, the compartment shuddered to a jerky stop. In the process, Jamie moved in front of Sarah, and she bumped into him with her breasts. She stole a nervous peek at him, and the door opened, flooding the compartment with light. It took a second for her eyes to adjust again.

“Right down here, number forty-seven, on the left.” Sarah scurried down the hall. After unlocking the padlock, she reached down to lift the heavy roll up door at the same moment Jamie did. He found the handgrip first, and her hand rested on his. She froze when their bodies tangled, and turned slowly to face him, nose to nose, breath on breath almost in slow motion. Sarah sensed something from Jamie that made her heart race and her thighs tingle. She lifted her hand off of his and moved back.

“I got this,” Jamie offered and in one swoop opened the door.

Skimming the seven by seven enclosure, she flushed, embarrassed by the disheveled boxes loudly announcing their contents,
High School, Mom’s Stuff, His Junk,
in black sharpie. Jamie followed her inside.

Rummaging through the boxes with a sheepish smile, she said, “I’ve been meaning to get to this mess.”

“What are we looking for?”

“No worries, it’s right here,” Sarah said, moving to a container that had Platters scribbled on it. She straddled the box, yanking at the packing tape. Jamie stepped closer, so she was facing his knees.

“Need help?” he asked playfully.

“I got this,” Sarah said finally ripping off the tape and digging into the box. Still squatting, she grabbed five plastic trays and closed the box. When she moved to stand up, she knocked into Jamie.

He put his hand on her waist, holding her steady in place. Boxes surrounded her. No place to run. Zero option to hide. She blew at the annoying piece of hair stuck to her lips.

Jamie leaned closer to her. Sarah clutched the platters tightly.

Unable to glance away, she zeroed in on his mouth inching closer.
He’s going to kiss me
.

Knocking into a box with her foot in a panic, she stumbled around Jamie and bolted out of the tight storage room.

A deep heat from her chest inched up her neck when she reached the hallway. It had to be over a hundred degrees and rising. She soothed her body by willing her heart to stop pounding so loudly.

“All set?” Jamie asked over his shoulder, reaching for the door handle. His light fabric T-shirt clung to his skin outlining the ripples of his back when he grabbed the handle above. With his biceps bulging, and the long, lean line of his forearm now fully pronounced, he pulled the door down. The silence in the hall shattered with a loud bang when door met the floor. Sarah wanted to be the door or the handle or anything he touched that way. His simple show of strength and gentleness worked like an aphrodisiac.

Please don’t leave yet, she thought silently walking back to the elevator next to him. She made a deal with herself that it would be perfectly okay if Jamie slept until noon and came to work whenever he wanted as long as he didn't give notice today. She didn't want him to vanish from her life without a kiss. She deliberately reduced her pace. Jamie’s speed slowed to match hers, and Sarah savored the simple act of walking together alone in the dingy storage hall.

They stepped into the elevator at the same time, and the door rumbled shut. Back in the shadowiness together, Sarah held the platters against her.

The lack of light magnified the intensity of her senses, and she listened to every little breath he took. When their uncovered arms brushed against each other, her heart started rapid firing again. She steadied herself by matching the rhythm of his exhales, easing her body a little more with every quiet sigh.

Now relaxed, Sarah cautiously inched toward him, letting her nose brush lightly over the cool T-shirt fabric covering his bicep. His muscles felt like a smooth mound of sand packed in water. Closing her eyes, she gave herself permission to let go just for a moment.

Parting her lips and letting her nose lead her slowly to his shoulder, she came to rest against his warm, salty neck and inhaled heaven.

Her cheek brushed lightly against the stubble of his beard. Using her lips, she grazed over his skin until finally, she kissed him. Slowly she savored the lips she’d been craving. His tongue barely touched hers before a small gasp escaped his lips and pierced through her. He trembled and moved his hands to the small of her back.

“Lose the platters, Sarah.” He pulled her into him tighter.

But Sarah continued to suck on his delectably full lower lip.

Jamie drew a deep breath and pulled away. “The platters,” he said on his exhale and kissed her harder.

Sarah let go, sending the trays crashing to the floor. He kicked them out of the way with the side of his boot. Reaching under her arms, he moved her against the wall, pressing his body fully against hers. Nothing came between them now.

Finally, finally, he slowly slipped his tongue inside to explore her mouth. First tantalizing, then circling in a steamy wet dance, he probed in and out. She couldn’t get enough of his clean, delicious taste. She changed her position for better balance, her head and body swimming in an unsteady blur as the elevator descended.

Her knees shook, her heart pounded, and her ears burned, but she wanted him closer.

With a clank, the metal door shrugged open, breaking in on their kiss and filling the elevator with bright light. She detected a hazy contemplative burn of what had to be pure lust coming from Jamie. A rush of excitement fluttered through her. His warm breath caressed her nose.

He nodded his head. Shook it as if to say something, and grinned.

“What?” Sarah raised her chin with a smile.

Jamie lifted his eyebrows.

“Tell me. What? You can say it.”

He moved closer, bringing his lips an inch from hers. “You kissed me,” he whispered.

Sarah looked at the ceiling, trying to keep a straight face. She had to focus to not burst out laughing with happiness.

She studied Jamie giving her lips a sexy stare down.

“You. Kissed. Me.” Grinning, he cocked his head.

“Yeah, so what if I did.” Sarah smirked and stepped out of the elevator.

“Not so fast.” Jamie grabbed her hand and kissed it before pulling it and bringing her back into the elevator. He stood in front of her. “You, kissed, me,” he said in a serious tone, leaning in close. He taunted Sarah’s lower lip with his tongue, and she teased back with hers.

Leaning against the cold elevator wall, Jamie braced his hand above her head. When he pressed his body against her and devoured her mouth again, the bulge in his jeans, and the fact that she had this kind of effect on him electrified her. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, crushing herself against him, he kissed her harder. Jamie’s heart beat fast through the soft fabric of his shirt against her chest. His quick, heavy breaths between kisses sent racy jolts through her. She slid her leg around his and pressed against him, not knowing how much more she could take without coming undone from his kisses alone.

The tinkling sound of keys and heavy footsteps interrupted them. Sarah drew her mouth away from Jamie to listen. He pressed his damp lips against her forehead. The sound got louder and closer.

“Did someone call security on us?” Jamie whispered in a tone that made her want to latch onto his mouth again. He left her long enough to bend down and collect the platters but came right back to give her another kiss. He took her hand and led her out to his car.

 

That evening, in the safety of her room, Sarah sprawled out flat on her linen sheets, staring at the plantation-style ceiling fan. Jamie Santino was out of her league: Her hand-holding league. Her being in near proximity league and most definitely her kissing league. Way out. She’d spent so much energy in that tiny elevator trying not to spontaneously combust, her muscles ached.

Her gaze followed the fan blades around and around. She refused to think about what she meant to Jamie, or if it were possible he genuinely cared for her.
He couldn’t kiss me that way and not.

She thought of googling him but didn’t need web verification that he dated hotties and not women like her. She wasn’t bad, but she was in the attractive-with-makeup category, and she never wore makeup. She wasn’t in the supermodel, stratospherically hot, sexy, talented actress, category, and she felt okay about it, most of the time.

Encircling her lips with her tongue, she tried to recreate the feeling of Jamie’s mouth. She didn’t want to think of Robert, but his kissing technique was the only one she had to compare with Jamie’s.

She’d only had a handful of boyfriends and after experiencing Jamie’s talented tongue, she decided that every single boy or man she had ever kissed was lousy at it.

The clamoring of pottery and happy buzz of conversation coming from the villa’s kitchen kept interrupting her daydream. She got up and padded down the hallway to help Danica, Juliet and Lulu. They were rarely all home for dinner together.

“Let’s use the tomatoes from the garden. Don’t start mixing the salad until I bring them in,” Lulu said, going out the French doors. She paused when she saw Sarah. “Are you joining us for a Sonoma salad, honey?”

“Yep, in for the night.” Sarah parked on a stool by the large center island.

Danica offered her a knife. “Onions or garlic? Pick your poison.”

“Both and pass the planer too.”

Sarah’s fingers tingled when she latched on to the knife. Every nerve in her body still fired passion pings from her kissing expedition hours ago. She hoped the girls wouldn’t notice her hands shaking and carefully sliced the red onion.

With their backs to Sarah, Danica and Juliet busily poked through the piles of fresh bounty Lulu had harvested. They tore, stemmed and rinsed a mélange of spinach, basil, watercress, green onions and mixed lettuces over the farmhouse sink. “Hey, do you guys think I need to sex up my image?”

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