Just One Week (7 page)

“He didn’t…that is, Jim and Emma,” Michelle stammered. “We all came together.”

“I saw you and Alex arrive together,” Vivian insisted. “Now, come with me. I want to talk to you.”

Vivian turned on her heel, obviously expecting Michelle to follow. Michelle looked to the woman next to her for guidance and only received an apologetic smile in return. Obviously, one did what Vivian demanded.

So, Michelle rose and went after the older lady. When she caught up, Vivian glanced at her out of the corners of her eyes and huffed. “I’ll warn you. I didn’t like the last one.”

Chapter Four

Alex’s grandmother led Michelle to a small gazebo overlooking bocce ball courts. A few people were playing but would be too far away to overhear their conversation. With a little help from her cane, Vivian went up the few steps, and Michelle let her do it on her own. The older woman didn’t appear the least bit frail and would probably resent any suggestion she was. Although Michelle had no intention of passing this interrogation in order to establish herself as relationship material in Alex’s grandmother’s eyes, it would be nice to get through the interview as unscathed as possible.

When Vivian sat on the gazebo’s wide railing, settling her cane beside her, Michelle took a seat next to her and waited for the other woman to start the conversation. It didn’t take long.

Vivian gave her a onceover from head to foot and back. “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”

“A few times at Jim and Emma’s.” Only at large family gatherings. She and Kyle had blended into the woodwork at those. “You probably remember my brother Kyle more than me.”

“Ah, yes. The boy who always tagged along after Alex,” Vivian said.

“He owns the winery now,” Michelle said.

Vivian made a soft noise in her throat, neither approval nor scorn. “He makes good wine.”

“He does.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Vivian scrutinized her a bit more. “And what do you do, young lady?”

“I’m a research scientist at Hawthorn University in Massachusetts.”

“In?”

People outside her field didn’t normally ask Michelle about her work, and if she tried to talk about it, their eyes generally glazed over after a few seconds.

“Neurochemistry,” Michelle said. “It can be pretty boring.”

“Not to someone who knows anything,” Vivian said. “Or has an inquisitive mind.”

“Our lab is studying neurotransmitters—chemicals in the brain.”

“I know what they are.” For a moment, a twinkle might have entered those sharp blue eyes.

“We’re working on Parkinson’s with an eye toward producing more effective drugs to treat it.”

“Then, you have a mind,” Vivian said.

“I rather hope so.”

“The last girl.” Vivian waved a dismissive hand. “A bit of fluff. Pleasant enough, but no substance.”

“I see.”

“Said things like ‘Oh, Mrs. Stafford, you’re so vibrant for your age,’” Vivian said. “Who the hell wants to hear that?”

Michelle almost choked at the swear word but ended up chuckling instead. Indeed, who the hell
would
want to hear that?

“I gather you’re the one who ran away eight years ago,” Vivian said.

“I wouldn’t put it that way exactly.”

“Emma missed you.”

“I went away to college and then grad school. Then a post-doc.” Shoot, she was rambling. It would make her appear defensive because, frankly, she was. Was she going to have to explain herself—and her absence—to three generations of Staffords?

“And oddly enough, Alex would go quiet whenever your name was mentioned,” Vivian said. “Is there some reason for that?”

Damn, but the woman was perceptive. Still, no matter how much Vivian loved her grandson, this was none of her business. But how to convince her of that without drawing her anger?

“I left in kind of a rush without really saying good-bye to Alex,” Michelle said. “I think he resented it.”

There, that wasn’t totally dishonest. Just left out the most embarrassing details.

“He’s certainly happy to have you back now.”

“I’m glad to be back and see everyone.” Somewhat less honest, but it sounded safe enough.

“I love all my children and grandchildren, even the people they married,” Vivian said. “But don’t tell Emma that.”

Heaven forbid. How else could Vivian keep the upper hand?

“But Alex has always been special to me. Everyone looks at him and sees the big, strong man, and he likes to play the part,” Vivian said. “He has a sweet, caring nature most people don’t appreciate.”

“I do.” That slipped out without thought, and her mind went back to the jar of lupines in the cottage. Not the way men usually impressed women with flowers, but he’d known how much it would mean to her.

“He’s easily hurt,” Vivian said. “Only his mother and I know that. He hides it so well.”

“Hurt?” she couldn’t help but repeat. Alex? All this time, she’d only cared about the way he’d humiliated her. Even crushed as she’d been, she’d realized he had only meant well. But, oh, the pain. She still felt it now, eight years later. Alex talking to her in that horrible way. Looking at her like
that
and then throwing her away like garbage.

“Don’t believe that nonsense about him playing the field,” Vivian said. “My Alex isn’t like that.”

Then, obviously, Vivian didn’t follow the media because Alex showed up on red carpets regularly during the off-season and in celebrity magazines the entire year ’round. Michelle wouldn’t win any points by mentioning that, though, so she kept quiet on the subject.

“He’s a good-looking kid and famous, so women are naturally drawn to him,” Vivian went on. “But he won’t let any of them close to him. Not after the last one.”

“You mentioned her more than once.”

“Sarah.” This time, Vivian’s dismissive noise sounded very much like a snort. “I don’t know what she did to him, but I can imagine.”

“I can’t.” Alex Stafford owned the world—handsome, rich, popular with everyone. Sure, everyone had a sore spot, but what could make Alex vulnerable enough that he wouldn’t try to have a meaningful relationship?

“It’s the dyslexia,” Vivian said. “Makes him think he’s slow.”

Michelle’s jaw dropped. “The what?”

“He’s as smart as any of the rest of them, if only he’d believe it,” Vivian said.

“Alex is dyslexic?” Michelle said.

Vivian’s eyes widened in alarm. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

This time Vivian used a really foul word. “I assumed you and your brother knew.”

She searched her brain for any clue that Kyle knew about Alex’s dyslexia and came up with nothing. Her brother was a pretty easy to read guy, and he and Alex had never acted as if they kept any secrets from her. Kyle might not have, but Alex certainly had.

“Don’t say anything to anyone about this,” Vivian said. “I don’t want Alex hurt any more than he has been.”

“I won’t.” Some things made sense now. Although Alex was obviously smart, he’d never been in advanced placement classes in high school and had gone to a university more known for its sports than academics. She’d never seen him read a book. And God forbid anyone suggest they go to a movie with subtitles.

Alex had trouble reading, and he’d never told her. She could have helped him, but he’d never trusted her enough to turn to her. He’d rejected her in more ways than she’d imagined.

“Well, you probably needed to know if the two of you are going to become an item,” Vivian said.

“That’s not going to happen, Mrs. Stafford,” Michelle said. “I’m just an old friend.”

That last statement earned her a definite humph of skepticism and disapproval.

“We drove over here with Jim and Emma,” Michelle said. “That’s all.”

“I know my grandson, young lady, and I know when he cares about someone.”

At a loss for words, Michelle stared at the bocce courts, watching the player’s precise placement of the game. How could he care about her if he wouldn’t tell her something as important as his difficulty with reading?

“He wouldn’t bring just any woman to a family gathering,” Vivian continued. “I’ve never met any of the
frou-frou
types he dates.”

“They’re all in New York.”

“And you’re from where…Boston?” Vivian said.

“I came here because Emma and Jim wanted me to.” Why couldn’t she make Vivian see that? She had a full life on the East Coast and hadn’t needed a trip back to open old wounds. Or create a new one with the knowledge the Alex had been hiding something important from her.

“Have it your way.” Vivian grabbed her cane. “But I’ll warn you, young lady. I don’t take kindly to anyone hurting someone I love. Especially Alex.”

“I’m not going to hurt him.” Michelle made an aimless gesture with her hands. “I’m only here for a few days…as a
friend
.”

“Fine.” Vivian rose. “Then you won’t get close enough to him to hurt him when you leave.”

“Of course not.”

“Then, Miss Dennis…Doctor Dennis…you’re a fool.” With that, Mrs. Stafford walked down the steps with a stiff spine and as much dignity as a cane allowed.

Well, this conversation had given her a lot to process. For one thing, Alex’s grandmother had made it clear that she’d give Michelle hell if she hurt Alex. But then, how could she hurt him if he wouldn’t let her close? Lord knew she hadn’t planned on that, she just wanted to enjoy his body for a casual fling and then go back to her real life. Still, she wouldn’t stay away again. Once she had things settled so she didn’t need to dread seeing Alex, she could visit as much as her busy schedule allowed. If she got the job at Cardmouth, that wouldn’t happen often, but holidays would be free. Exactly when Vivian might be around.

On the other hand, if she meant no more to him than the women he usually dated, she couldn’t hurt him. So why even worry about that?

Should she ditch the entire plan to seduce Alex and spend the rest of her time here enjoying the festivities and nothing else? Easier said than done. If Alex offered more kisses, she wouldn’t have the strength to turn them down. Kisses would lead to more and more. If they didn’t connect emotionally, where was the harm?

Obviously, they weren’t as close as she’d thought. All the times she’d tagged after him and Kyle, all the times he’d comforted her after a snub from her father, all the little things he’d done for her, like the lupines—none of them mattered enough to him to reveal who he truly was. Even the way he’d berated her in the cottage that day could have been an aberration, but he’d kept a secret from her the entire time she’d known him…from her childhood right up until today. None of that added up to an emotional relationship.

So Operation Seduce Alex Stafford would continue, even if her heart ached a bit more than it had yesterday.

…

When it became clear Alex’s mother had taken everyone else back from the vineyard tour and left him and Michelle behind, he could be pretty sure this was one of her attempts at throwing them together. Actually, that was fine by him. The distance was perfect for the two of them to have a nice, long talk. But Michelle wouldn’t see things that way.

She emerged from between the rows of grapevines looking every bit as luscious as when they’d climbed into the Land Rover to head for the winery that morning. By now, they’d spent several hours in the warm spring sun—minus the time his grandmother had taken her aside for the third degree. She’d put on a sun visor but might very well get a few freckles on her nose, anyway. He could spend hours trying to count them if he wasn’t careful. But damn it, all caution seemed to evaporate when he got around her.

She looked up one side of the main road between the rows of vines and down the other. “Did they leave without us?”

“Looks like.”

She put her hands on her hips, and clearly, the wheels turned in her mind. After his earlier conversation with his mother, he had no trouble at all realizing what had happened—another of Mom’s attempts at matchmaking. And who knew what kind of nonsense his beloved Grandma had poured into Michelle’s head?

He got his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call Mom.”

His mother didn’t answer. No big surprise there. He’d have to make at least one more try to convince Michelle he’d done what he could to get them a ride. Then they could walk back. The trip should take a good twenty minutes. Plenty of time for the conversation she’d been avoiding since SFO. He tried Chase next.

“Hey, big guy, what’s up?” his brother said. Darn it. Why had he answered?

“Mom left Michelle and me out here without a ride.”

“Did she?” A definite snicker came from the other end of the line.

“Can you send someone to pick us up?” Alex said.

“Bit of a problem,” Chase said. “I’m helping Kyle with the barbecue. We’re pretty busy.”

“Can’t someone else do it?” There. He’d done his duty.

“Sorry. Guess you’ll have to get back on your own,” Chase said and broke the connection. Alex gave Michelle a smile and shrugged, as in whatcha-gonna-do?

Michelle had eyed him the entire time. “I don’t mind walking back. I’m wearing comfortable shoes.”

Her shoes might be comfortable, but the rest of her outfit was most definitely not, at least not for him. Though not tight, her shorts showed every curve of her butt, and her top revealed the swell of her breasts. Perfectly normal clothes, and no one would notice them other than the man who’d kissed her the night before and had had to take a cold shower hours later.

“I didn’t have anything to do with this,” he said. “Honest.”

“I didn’t say you did.” She tucked her arm around his and smiled.

Her expression didn’t seem entirely trustworthy but more like a come-hither. His Mickey had never flirted, but this new Michelle might have learned a few tricks. But what was he going to do? Pull back and demand she tell him what was going on in her head? He might be better off not knowing. So, he walked with her between the rows of grapevines.

The sun warmed his shoulders as they went, but the true heat came from her nearness to him. This felt entirely too natural—as if she’d been designed to fit against him. He’d walked this way with more than a few women—many times down the streets of Manhattan and into posh clubs and swank hotels. On those occasions, he’d never experienced such a sense of rightness as he did now. The northern California wine country was really his home, and here he was, surrounded by his people. Mickey had been one once. Would Michelle now fit into that category?

“Since we’re here, it’s time we talked,” he said.

“About what?”

“The topic you’ve been avoiding.”

That stopped her. “Don’t, Alex. Please.”

“I have to. That day in the cottage. You never gave me a chance to explain.”

“What’s to explain?” She threw her hands out to her sides. “I was in the middle of doing something stupid, and you stopped me. Thank you. Now, are we done?”