Chapter Two
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“Gabby!” Phoebe called.
With a sigh, Gabrielle St. John gave up trying to rinse the wine stain out of her white shrug. Whatever possessed her to wear white to work, she didn’t know. Inevitably she ended up dripping red wine or spilling brine from the olives all over her clothes.
“GABBY!” Her sister’s voice had taken on an annoyed edge.
“Crap,” she mumbled, throwing the shrug in the trash. It was ruined anyway. “Coming!” she called, walking out of the bathroom toward the front of the shop.
She paused and made sure the neckline of her dress wasn’t gaping. The long tropical print maxi dress she wore had a halter neckline. She felt it was a little too revealing, which was why she had worn a shrug over it. Now she felt exposed and it wasn’t a feeling she liked.
While she always tried to look nice at work because she was a businesswoman now, Gabrielle preferred not to show a lot of skin. It irritated her to no end that, after a few glasses of wine, some of the male clientele thought making lewd comments about her attributes would flatter her.
Either way, Gabby learned over the years it was less trouble and better for business if she adjusted her wardrobe rather than educate the male customers on ridiculous double standards and misogyny.
When she stepped out of the hallway into the main dining and drinking area, Gabby’s feet suddenly felt as though they were glued to the floor.
It had been fourteen years since she last saw him, but she immediately recognized him. Or at least her hormones did, anyway.
Logan Westfall, the star of most of her teenage fantasies, stood next to her sister, and he looked even better now than he did when he graduated high school. If she was going to be honest, he was the star of many of her fantasies during college too. Thank God neither of them were looking in her direction to see her gawking.
Gabby finally moved when Phoebe turned and waved her over.
“Look who just dropped in!” her sister announced gleefully. “And guess what? He moved back to town.” With her back to Logan, Phoebe wiggled her eyebrows at Gabrielle because she knew about her younger sister’s crush on her friend in high school.
Gabby kept the smile on her face. No way was she going to give Phoebe the satisfaction of a reaction to her teasing.
Turning her smile to Logan, she held out her hand. “Hi, Logan, it’s good to see you again.”
When their fingers touched, electricity zinged up her arm. His hand engulfed hers, his palm almost twice the size of her own.
“Gabby, you look great,” he responded.
Cursing the wine stain that caused her to throw away her shrug, Gabby hoped he couldn’t see the fact that her nipples were hard. The combination of his deep drawl and the sensation of his hand holding hers were enough to make her body go haywire. The naïve and romantic teenage feelings she once harbored were morphing into something much more sexual and dangerous.
Her skin heated as he continued to cradle her hand in his. “Uh, thanks,” she murmured, carefully extracting her fingers from his grasp. “I was sorry to hear about your father’s heart attack. How’s he doing?”
“He’s definitely feeling better. I can tell because he’s trying his best to drive my mother completely crazy.”
Gabby and Phoebe laughed.
“I’m glad,” Gabby replied. Glancing at her sister, she stepped back. “I’ll go pull some bottles from the back for tonight and let you two catch up. Welcome back, Logan.”
The skin between her shoulder blades itched intensely as she turned and walked away. Without looking back, Gabby knew that Logan was watching her leave.
Though her legs were shaky with nerves, she managed to make it behind the bar and into the back room without falling on her face. Once she knew she was out of sight, Gabby wrapped her arms around her jumpy stomach and leaned against the wall. She was relieved that, not only did she not trip, she didn’t say anything completely stupid. She had a tendency to stick her foot in her mouth at the most inopportune times. Especially if she was nervous. It was a curse.
How could the sight of a man she hadn’t seen in over a decade turn her into a nervous, shaky mess? Even when he lived in Diamond and Gabby saw him all the time, his presence didn’t affect her like it did today.
Sucking in a deep breath, she straightened from the wall. Now was not the time to dwell on the fact that her high school crush still had the power to make her weak in the knees after a fourteen-year absence.
Gabby ran a hand through her hair, pulling the long mass over one shoulder. Her skin still felt hot from the crazy rush of attraction, a slight sheen of sweat shimmering on her shoulders and back.
Suddenly, her wild reaction seemed silly and maybe a little frivolous. Logan Westfall never noticed her existence in high school and she seriously doubted he would notice it now.
It didn’t matter. She had work to do and Logan was nothing but a distraction.
Gabby walked to the back of the storeroom. She and Phoebe had arranged a makeshift wine cellar in the back for their pricier stock. It was almost guaranteed that a couple or a group would come in on a Saturday night and order an expensive bottle to share.
After pulling a couple of bottles of chardonnay from the rack and slipping them into a case, she searched for a bottle of a specific petite Syrah. Finally, she located it on a shelf above her.
The step stool was nowhere to be found, so Gabby sighed and stretched her arm out for the bottle. Just as her fingers brushed it, a large, masculine hand closed around the bottle, followed by a hard, warm body crowding her from behind.
“What the hell?!” Gabby yelped, twisting her head to glare at the sneaky bastard who scared her.
Logan Westfall’s amused grey-green eyes met hers. “Here, let me get that for you.”
“Uh. Ah.” Gabby cleared her throat. “Um, thanks.” She tried to step to one side and put a little space between them, but Logan’s body was too close, crowding her against the shelves. His other arm was braced against the wood to her left, right by her rib cage, and when she shifted, the side of her breast brushed his thumb.
Though the slight touch sent shockwaves through her body, Gabby managed to feign composure.
“Here, let me move out of the way,” she suggested.
“I’ve got it.”
He was standing so close she could feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke, and he smelled like summer and sunshine.
Finally, he stepped back. Gabby turned, pressing her back against the shelf, and took the bottle he held out.
“Thank you,” she muttered, holding the bottle against her chest.
“You’re welcome.”
Since he seemed completely unaware of his effect on her, Gabby squared her shoulders. If he hadn’t noticed that she could barely string together a sentence, then there was no need to draw attention to her nervousness.
Logan looked around the storage area. “You and Phoebe have done a great job with this place. And The Wild Vine. That’s a great name.”
Gabby smiled. “Thanks. Our dad suggested it.”
“Really? I would have thought he would want you to name it after the vineyard.”
Blake St. John was a second-generation Texas vintner. St. John Vineyard was one of the most successful in the state.
Gabby smirked. “He suggested it. Then we told him that we intended to sell other wines in addition to St. John’s.”
Chuckling, he asked, “And how did that go over?”
With a laugh, she hugged the bottle of wine closer to her chest. “Not well. But he got over it. He even sold us the first hundred cases of St. John’s wines at a reduced price.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t just give them to you.”
Gabby shrugged. “He tried, but he raised us to always pay our own way, so we insisted.”
“I’ll bet you did,” Logan murmured.
Carrying the bottle to the case she loaded the chardonnay into, Gabby added the petite Syrah.
“Well, I need to get these out front. It’s going to get busy soon.”
“Have dinner with me Monday. We can catch up.”
Gabby’s head twisted around. “I’m sorry?”
“Let’s have dinner Monday night. It’d be nice to find out what you’ve been doing the past fourteen years.”
Since she wondered the same about him, Gabby gave in to her curiosity. “Okay, dinner Monday sounds nice.” Just a friendly dinner with the man who made her tongue-tied. That didn’t sound like a recipe for disaster at all.
“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket. “Will you write your phone number and address on this?”
Gabby took the card and ducked into the small office she and Phoebe shared. Quickly, she jotted down her number and address. When she turned around, Logan was leaning against the doorjamb.
She approached him and held out the card. “Text me so I’ll have your number too, okay?”
Nodding, Logan took it. After a moment’s hesitation, he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her cheek.
Smiling, he pulled back. “I’ll see you Monday.”
As he turned and sauntered away, Gabby lifted her hand to her tingling cheek. When he was gone, she laughed. Fifteen years since she first laid eyes on Logan Westfall and decided he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, Gabby finally had what she wanted most of all in high school; a date with her teenage dream.