So Good: A Ribbon Ridge Novel (Love on the Vine Book 1) (11 page)

She exhaled as she perched on the stool. “Great.”

Cam took the other seat with his back to the corner. “I take it you were dying to get away from him?”

She set her wineglass and clutch purse on the smooth wood top of the bar. “Yes. Thank you.”

So she hadn’t really been looking for him. Bummer. “Glad I could be of convenient service.”

She smoothed her hair back and flipped the curls over her shoulder. “He was laying it on a bit thick. I mean, he’s a kid. Just out of college.”

“You refuse to date younger guys?

She gave him a pointed look. “I refuse to date players. And he’s most definitely a player.”

Cam couldn’t help laughing. “So you attached yourself to the closest available…player. Who’s maybe in a better age range?” He laughed a little harder, feeling more amused than he probably ought.

She giggled, then let go into a full laugh. “Okay, now that you put it that way, that was a really bad move on my part. But, in my defense, you haven’t seemed like all that much of a player. Your lines aren’t too cheesy, and I think we’ve settled into a good working relationship.” She let her laughter subside. “Or am I wrong about that?”

“Nope, I’d say you got it right. Besides, as you can probably tell from my two a.m. e-mails, I’m a little too work obsessed right now to play at anything.”

Her eyes sparkled in the orange glow coming from the evening sun glinting off the windows across the street. “You are! You work more than I do, which is saying something.” She nodded toward the glass on the bar. “What’s the wine?

“Allen’s pinot.”

She picked it up and swirled the garnet liquid. “A full glass, huh? Not a taste?”

“I already tasted. Trust me when I say it’s envy inducing.”

Her eyes widened. “That good? Oh my. I might have to pitch my services.”

She absolutely should. But again, he felt a pang of jealousy. Which was stupid. She wasn’t an employee of West Arch. Her job was to sell wine from a variety of sources, and from what he’d seen so far, she was good at it. He liked her. And he liked Allen. Why not help them both out?

“Do you know Allen?”

She shook her head as she inhaled the aroma of the wine.

“I’ll introduce you so you can talk him up.”

“That would be great, thanks. I’m surprised you’re willing to share.” She flashed him a sexy little smile. Or maybe he just found everything about her sexy. Either way, he got a definite flirty vibe. Business-only was looking harder by the minute.

A server came by and offered them a small bite. “Goat cheese tarts.”

Brooke set her glass back down and picked a tart from the tray. “Thanks.”

Cam took one for himself along with a napkin and set them on the bar.

As the server left, Brooke sampled the tart. A look of starry-eyed bliss glazed her expression. “I love cheese, don’t you?”

He laughed again. “You look like you’re maybe in love with cheese.”

“You’d be right. And I guess those are two distinct emotions, aren’t they?”

He pondered that for the briefest of seconds before agreeing. “Definitely.” He knew the difference between loving someone and being in love. He’d done both, and the latter was far more painful.

She gave him a sly look as she picked up her glass and swirled the wine around the bowl. “Are you speaking from experience?”

He was good at dodging these kinds of questions. Talking about Jennifer was something he never did. Period. He didn’t like to give her lip service or brain space. She didn’t deserve it. “Don’t we all? By our age anyway.”

She froze in lifting the glass to her mouth. “Crap, are we old?”

He chuckled. “I turned thirty a couple months ago. Is that old?”

She winced. “Was it hard? I don’t have to face that until late next year.”

He grinned, enjoying their conversation. “No, it wasn’t hard. I’m digging thirty so far.” He was exactly where he wanted to be in life, and that was a pretty good feeling. He glanced toward her glass. “Are you going to taste that or not?”

“If you’ll stop distracting me.” She gave him one of those saucy looks that made his gut tighten. She took a sip, and he watched her scrutinize the texture and the flavor. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed together. Then she swallowed. “You weren’t kidding.” She took a longer drink. “I need to meet this Allen guy like right now.”

Cam looked toward the bar to gesture for Allen to come over, but he wasn’t there. He glanced around and made eye contact with Luke, who gave him another look that clearly asked, What’s up with you and Brooke? Cam ignored that one too.
 

Why was everyone suddenly trying to pair him off? He understood Hayden—he was married with a kid on the way—and Jamie was seeing Madison. But Luke was single. It was clearly time to turn the tables and set Luke up with someone so he could mind his own damned business.

Cam finally located Allen standing at the other end of the bar. “I see Allen. Let me go get him.” He started to rise, but she put her hand on his arm.
 

“Don’t. I don’t want to seem pushy. If he wanders by or you catch his eye, you can flag him down.”

He arched his brow at her. “You aren’t very cutthroat.”

The edge of her mouth ticked up, and a ruthless glint flashed in her gaze. “I am, actually. I’m just kind of tired. It’s been a long week.”

He could relate to that. They’d had a couple of colossal headaches at the winery with the wrong bottles being delivered—and the supplier being a jackass about it—followed by significant irrigation problems that had sent Luke into a tailspin.
 

The server came by with another round of appetizers, and they helped themselves.

Brooke sipped her wine and looked at him over the rim of her glass. “That was some pretty crafty avoidance earlier.”

He set his glass on the bar and rested his arm on the edge of the wood. “What?”

“When I asked if you spoke from experience of being in love—the cheese?”

He knew what she was referring to. That she’d called him on it was strangely alluring. Shouldn’t it be annoying? He refused to cave. “Who isn’t in love with cheese?”

Her eyes narrowed, and he recognized the shrewd assessment in her gaze. “You’re doing it again—avoiding. Do you even realize? Either you’ve never been in love, or you have and you’d rather not talk about it.”

He leaned back and studied her, a smile hovering about his mouth. “You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

“Ha! Not even close. You’re a pretty closed book, Cameron Westcott.”

“It’s the latter,” he said, surprising himself. And her, given the subtle rounding of her eyes.
 

“I see,” she murmured. She inclined her head slightly. The movement coupled with her tone seemed to convey some sort of respect…as if she understood he’d revealed something important and meant to keep it safe.

Damn, he liked her.

“And you? Wait, I know the answer—I think. You have an ex-husband, so I have to assume you were in love. I can’t see you marrying someone without that.”

“Aren’t most people who get married? I’m curious why you think some people marry for something other than love.”

His past experience with Jennifer crashed into his mind—she’d married that other prick because he was wealthy and could give her the material things she desired. “Because they do. Some people are cold and selfish, and love never enters into it.” He picked up his glass and looked at her over the rim. “But that’s not you.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You think you know me that well?”

He sipped his wine and set the glass back on the wood. “Based on your response a moment ago, I think you were in love with your husband. But I also think you’re guarded and skeptical, and since you’re divorced, you likely had your heart broken.”

She pursed her lips briefly, again studying him intently. “You know what I think? I think you just told me about you. You would only marry for love. The question is whether you were with someone who was cold and selfish, and”—her voice dipped—“you had your heart broken.”

His insides seized up, and the blood in his veins turned to ice. How the hell had she come up with that? “Now, who’s deflecting?”

She laughed. “Damn, you caught me. Yes, I was in love with my ex.” She polished off her wine and glanced around for the server. “Think I can get another?”

“Absolutely.” In that moment, he happened to catch Allen’s eye. He came toward them, and Cam introduced him to Brooke. Cam slid from his stool and picked up their glasses. “I’ll get more wine while you two chat.”

He made his way to the bar and set the glasses down for a refill. Luke sidled up next to him. “Hey, brother. You and Brooke look cozy.”

“Knock it off.” He turned his head to look at Luke, who was grinning like an idiot. “I’ve decided you need a girlfriend.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder. “Who, Brooke, maybe?”

Cam scowled. “No, not Brooke. Someone else.”

“What’s wrong with Brooke? She’s great. Funny, smart. She’s also insanely beautiful.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, so don’t bother.”

Luke turned, resting his elbow on the countertop. “What’s that?”

“You think I need a relationship. I don’t. I’m busy. I’m happy. I’m good.”

“No one’s disputing that. But we all see what you apparently don’t—you like Brooke. Believe me, I’d be the first one to say you shouldn’t encourage anything given the work stuff, but for me, I’d rather see you happy in a relationship. And if Brooke’s that person, I’m all for it.”

What were they “all” seeing? “Do you guys have meetings about this when I’m not around?”

“Ha-ha. No. Don’t be a jerk.”

“I’m not the one playing matchmaker like we’re in seventh grade.”

“Fine. I’ll shut up.” Luke shook his head but smiled. “I just hope you don’t pass something up because you’re too stubborn to realize they aren’t all bad apples.”

One of the bartenders finally poured his wine—they were busier at the bar than when he’d arrived—and Cam picked up the glasses. “I do realize. I just don’t want an apple, okay?”

Luke rolled his eyes, and they went their separate ways.

His brother’s words rankled. Maybe because they held more than a little bit of truth. He didn’t trust women. Hell, he didn’t trust himself. How could he have been such poor judge of character with Jennifer? He had to be a complete moron not to see her for what she was after being together for almost two years.
 

Was he still a moron, though? No, because he’d done a damned good job of keeping himself from making another stupid mistake.

When he arrived back at his seat, Brooke and Allen seemed like old friends. Allen was just tucking her card into his pocket as he turned to Cam. “Thanks for introducing me to my new wine broker.”

That shaft of jealousy poked him again, but he summoned a smile. “Great. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.” He handed Brooke her wineglass. “How many sales did you close for me this week?”

“Eight. And we’re just getting started.”

Allen grinned. “Damn. I look forward to seeing you Monday, Brooke. Thanks!” He nodded at her and gripped Cam’s bicep before taking off.

Cam sat down. “You sealed that up pretty quick.”

“Told you I was ruthless.” She arched her brows at him, and again he caught a flirty vibe.
 

He suddenly wanted to ask her to come home with him. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her, and see if the attraction he felt—that others seemed to see—was as hot and thrilling as he imagined. But he didn’t think she’d go for that. What would she go for?

“You said earlier that you refused to date players. Who do you date?”

She twirled her glass for a moment and watched the pinot cascade around the sides. She looked up at him. “Like you, I don’t really date.”

“I date, just not seriously.”

“Right. I don’t date at all. Haven’t since I divorced my ex.” She took a drink of wine, and her gaze seemed to dare him to chastise her for that. He had the sense most people did, and of course, he wouldn’t. Not when he was dealing with his own peanut gallery.

“How long ago was that?”

“Almost a year and a half.”

A paltry amount compared to his eight-year streak. “Eh, that’s not so bad. Give yourself a break.”

She set her glass on the bar and kept her hand curled around the base of the stem. “Thanks. My friends and family keep telling me I should get back out there, but it’s just…different after you’re divorced.”

He knew exactly what she meant. Even though he hadn’t been married, he’d been close. If he’d proposed a little sooner, he might’ve married Jennifer.

No, you wouldn’t have. You didn’t have the money or the stuff to keep her.

He shook thoughts of his ex away. She so wasn’t worth it. “So you don’t date, and you’re good with that.”

She moved her glass around slightly, again swirling the wine. “For the most part. Lately, I’ve begun to think that I should maybe at least try.”

Lately. Because of him? He tried not to feel encouraged, but it was tough. Especially if he’d been reading her body language correctly tonight. “Hey, I’m not a role model, unless you’re interested in casual dating.”