Chapter 10 – Work For It

Addy –

He frowns at my accusation, squeezing my hands to hold me in my spot.

My mom told me about the months after my dad was killed. How she was harassed, not only by the media, but their friends, and most specifically, the CIA. They investigated her, claiming they had to rule out she had anything to do with my dad’s so-called traitorous acts. She was put through hell, mainly by intelligence officials, describing most of them to be on a witch hunt, wanting and needing to close the case because of public and media pressure. My mom described those months—dealing with her husband’s murder, her child witnessing it, and being investigated herself—as nothing less than living in the depths of hell.

When the CIA couldn’t find anything on her and declared all the information false that proved my dad innocent, she did the only thing she could do. She ran. And she used all the money she had left to buy new identities for the both of us.

To say that my mom didn’t trust the government, especially the CIA, is a gross understatement.

“No,” he answers, resolutely. “I’m not CIA.”

“What are you, then?” I raise my voice, fear creeping through me, hoping against hope I haven’t made a mistake trusting him.

His face quickly turns hard as he holds my hands in his firm grip. Regarding me carefully, he’s bordering on angry when he says, “This is me proving myself to you, Addison. Last night and just now. I wish I could tell you more, but that can’t happen. I’m letting you in on sensitive information about your dad. Information that isn’t mine to share. I did it so you’d trust me enough to know I can keep you safe. I have the means and the skills to do it. I’ve been doing it since Sunday when O’Rourke approached you the first time. I said it last night and I’ll say it again—you’re safer here than anywhere. I’ll even go out on a limb and venture you’re safer now than you’ve ever been in your entire life.”

“What are you talking about?” Protecting me? How has he been protecting me since Sunday?

He sighs. “Because of my work, my property is vastly secure. After O’Rourke visited you Sunday, I extended that to you. Your home, business, and entire property are being constantly monitored. How do you think I knew you were packing last night? Your blinds were open—I could see you running around in a panic.”

This time I do rip my hands out of his, exclaiming, “You can see in my house? You’ve been watching me? You can’t do that!”

My mind does a quick inventory—thinking back on my week. Please, let me have closed my blinds every day. Holy shit, he’s looking into my freaking windows. I just let a crazy man sleep in my bed.

Lips tightened, he tips his head, looking at me like I’m unreasonable for complaining about him stalking me. “Yeah, I watched you last night. I can read you, Addison. When I found you with O’Rourke, you were freaked the fuck out. You wouldn’t let me come in and I had a feeling you’d do something stupid. But I haven’t been ‘watching’ you. I’ve been keeping an eye on you—that’s different. I had a feeling you’d do something to put yourself in danger and I was right. I checked the cameras and saw you running around in a fit.”

“Cameras?” I yell.

He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms, looking frustrated. “Relax, you make it sound weird. I’m not sneaking around in your trees. The system alerts me if cars or people approach your property. Specifically at night, since you have so many people coming and going during the day with the winery. I had a feeling you’d do something stupid when you wouldn’t let me in, so I watched you. I was right. Where would you be right now had I not stopped you?”

My eyes widen, shocked by his nonchalant-ness of spying on me. He’s got to be breaking some kind of law or something. Suddenly I’m defensive and stand, my chair scratching across the floor.

“If you have me on twenty-four hour watch status, why was it necessary for you to stay the night?”

He stands, towering over me. When he takes a step, I have to tip my head to see him—there’s got to be at least eight inches separating us as we stand in my kitchen, both of us on bare feet. He surprises me when his hands come up to cup my face, his sharp eyes connecting with mine.

“You didn’t see you,” he utters in a gravelly voice.

I say nothing, but I pull in a sharp intake of air. Even I know I was a mess last night.

He goes on. “When I met you a week ago, walking with your cows, I knew none of this. I just knew you were my neighbor. That day, I knew I wanted to know you. I wanted to know the woman who would take on cows for pets and throw attitude back at me as fast as I could dish it out and who gives her wine away to neighbors. Then I learned you were meeting with a high level target and that target was lookin’ at you like he was interested in everything but your wine. On top of all that, for the first time in my life, I find myself having to work to stay focused. I’m always focused, but it slips when I’m around you.”

I exhale through parted lips. “What are you saying?”

His answer comes instantly. “I’m saying when that focus slips, I feel it everywhere. So yeah, you were safe with the sensors and the cameras alerting me of a threat, but you’re fucking crazy if you think I could’ve left you last night. Not after you cried in my arms and I saw the fear in your eyes. No way could I leave you.”

“Crew,” I breathe and sink into him. When I do, his hands slide down my neck and shoulders, circling my back. When he draws me in, I hope he means what I think he does. Because my instinct is fighting my head, telling me to trust him with everything—my safety and my heart.

Even if the cameras do weird me out.

His hands separate—one going into my hair, the other to my ass where he holds me tight. “I’m saying, I thought I wanted you when I met you, but now I couldn’t stay away if you made me. In my work, I need to be sharp and focused. Working for it is not something I’m used to. I’m not letting you go anywhere, but I’ll tell you, I’d appreciate it if you’d cooperate. If I can rest easy and know you aren’t gonna run off, you’ll make my life a lot easier.”

A moment goes by as his words penetrate, warming me all over. It’s all too much—Sheldon O’Rourke, learning that Crew knows everything about me, my dad, and him telling me he couldn’t stay away if he wanted. My eyelids droop and I exhale, planting my face in his bare chest where his shirt is hanging open. He’s warm and smells rugged, if that’s even a scent. I sink into him further, the bare skin of his chest feeling good on my face and I wonder how the rest of him would feel on me.

Even as I’m thinking about the rest of him bare, I still mumble, “The cameras freak me out.”

He gives me a squeeze and I feel his lips at the top of my head. “They’re there to keep you safe.”

“What have you seen?” I dread knowing, but I have to ask.

He pulls away from me and when I’m forced to look up, the side of his mouth is tipped. “I’m not a Peeping Tom. If I want to see you, I’ll work for it because when I see you for the first time, I plan on being there to touch you. I have no desire to see you over a camera. Starting now, I plan on working for it.”

The thought of that makes me quiver because I want that, but I don’t lie when I say, “This is all too much.”

“I agree. I’d rather just be working for it rather than worrying about CIA targets at the same time. I can handle both and I plan to start immediately. After last night, you shouldn’t leave the vineyard by yourself. Please make it easy on me. You’ll stay put and cooperate?”

“The thought of leaving is gut-wrenching,” I tell him the truth. “I don’t want to leave my business and everyone in my life.”

His full lips form a small smile. “That’s good to hear.”

I soften my voice and add, “Plus, I’m curious to find out how you’re going to work for it.”

His smile grows into a grin as it comes closer. When his mouth hits mine, I circle his back to hold on as he turns us. With the table at my back, he grabs my hips and before I know it I’m plopped on top. Stepping between my legs, he leans in to kiss me.

His kiss is deep and intense. So much so, I have to lean back on my hands to keep my balance as he comes over me, sliding his hands up my sides. This is like last night in the Red Room, but better. Better because I’m not scared, better because he’s in my house, and finally, better because of what he told me, allowing myself to trust someone outside of my mom for the first time in almost twenty-five years.

But everything else makes it great. Well, everything is better but the cameras.

I’ve got a grasp on my life again and that feels good. That sense of security feels like a gift and Crew gave that to me by making me feel safe.

And he makes me feel wanted. I haven’t put myself out there to feel wanted for so long. I like how it feels, especially when I want him.

Despite those fucking cameras.

Just when his hand dives in my hair, pulling my head back for better access, the doorbell chimes. I tense and our lips stop moving, but we stay where we are.

“Is that another employee?” he asks against my lips.

“No,” I exhale to catch my breath. “My employees just walk in. They all have a key.”

His head jerks back, frowning at me. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him the truth. “I guess my house feels like an extension of the winery and they’re the only people in my life. They all have keys.”

His frown deepens when he opens his mouth, probably to grumble about so many people having access to my house, but whoever’s at the door is impatient. It rings again, then impatiently, again.

“I’d better get that.” I try to move, but he gives me a squeeze.

Giving me a quick kiss, he stops me. “I’ll get it.”

He heads out of the kitchen, but this is my house. I hop down and follow through the main hall.

When Crew unlocks and swings my extra wide, heavy door open, a man is standing on my porch with his arms crossed. And he doesn’t look happy to be standing on my doorstep.

His hair is rich brown, but since he’s standing in the morning sun, layers of rich color from chestnut to gold are shining through. He’s well over six feet and all bulk. He’s dressed in cargos and a navy blue tee. But his eyes, as angry as they appear, are perfectly silver-blue.

Oh, and they’re on me.

“What do you want?” Crew bites out.

It seems he’s not here for me.

This draws his attention, his blue eyes moving to Crew before he turns and looks at Crew’s poor Jag. It shouldn’t surprise me that it looks worse this morning, and this makes me cringe. Seeing the after effects of what we endured is plain scary. “What the fuck happened to your car?”

Sounding like it’s no big deal, Crew shrugs. “A scuffle. I’ll explain later.”

He thinks last night was a scuffle? He is definitely not a computer programmer.

The guy turns back to Crew. “You’re not answering your phone.”

“I’m busy. Told you where I was and when I’d be back,” Crew clips.

The guy smirks. “You need to finish up being busy. We’ve got shit to do and something’s come up.”

Crew sighs and looks over at me. “This is Grady Cain. We work together. The clean air out here in the country isn’t good for his system. It makes him irritable.”

“No,” Grady breaks in, still smirking. “I’m irritable because I’m hungry and I’m in the country with no restaurants close by.”

I extend my hand. “I’m Addy.”

“I know,” he says, accepting my hand.

Of course he does.

“There’s a deli in the tasting room. It’s not a restaurant, but Maggie makes great sandwiches, soups, and salads,” I tell him.

Grady frowns at me. “Really?”

“And cheese, meats, and baguettes, but that’s not really a meal for someone like you. You might like the sandwiches,” I keep trying. “She’s open from eleven to six Wednesday through Sunday. We’re closed Monday’s and offer limited items on Tuesday’s since she’s off.”

“I’ve been here for months and I could’ve eaten a sandwich next door five days a week? I’m going today for lunch.” He pauses and looks at Crew before finishing, “and dinner.”

Crew ignores him. “Give me ten minutes.”

Grady raises a brow and shakes his head before shooting me a grin. “Thanks for letting me know about the deli. Good to meet you, Addison.”

“No-no,” I say quickly, halting him. I’m firm when I explain, “It’s Addy. I don’t care what Crew says. Don’t call me Addison.”

His grin gets bigger. “I like not listening to Crew. Addy it is.”

I smile at him in relief, but don’t get a chance to thank him because Crew throws the front door shut in his face.

He grabs my hand, pulling me to him. One hand goes around me and his other cups my face. “I’ve gotta go. Things are ramping up—we’ve got a lot to do.”

“Are you going to tell me what you do?”

He says nothing and presses his lips together, shaking his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“That doesn’t really seem fair, Crew. You know everything about me.”

He sighs. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

I don’t push it, because really, he does sound sorry. And even though I’ve only known him a week, there’s something about him that’s making him easy to trust.

I get back to the matter at hand. “I have all kinds of questions.”

“I’m sure you do. You can ask me tonight when I come over to start working at it. Ask me what you want and I’ll answer everything I can. But Addison, there’ll be things I can’t answer. You’re going to have to be okay with that.”

My insides turn funny thinking about the answers he could have for me. If he can tell me anything about my dad, I’ll take it. Now more than ever, I’m desperate for information. “I think I can do that.”

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. His mouth lands on mine and before I know it, his tongue is delving in.

He holds me tight, but kisses me slowly this time. His lips are soft moving on me, using his tongue to taste, letting it linger. Even though this is different, it’s just as good and I let my fingers drag down his bare chest. I haven’t been with anyone since before my mom got sick. This feels good, to be wanted and held in a man’s arms. But having Crew’s arms around me, Crew’s lips on mine?

Yes, this is good. Really good, and he feels even better.

I lightly drag my nails over his nipples, and the second I do, he groans into my mouth. Before I know it, I’m turned and pushed up against the door.

There’s not one thing soft about his kiss anymore. He’s devouring me, pressing me into the antique wood. His hips press into my stomach, where I feel him long and hard.

I feel a tingle in my nipples and wetness between my legs. I feel it everywhere. Even though it’s been a long time for me, no one’s ever made my body hum the way Crew does. That’s all him and I throw every care out the window that I’ve only known him a week. This week has been like none other, so I put that out of my head and let myself want him. All of him.

We’re both breathing hard, our mouths still touching when he rests his forehead on mine. He exhales as he squeezes my hip. “I’ve gotta go.”

I dip my head into his neck and feel his lips touch my forehead. “Okay.”

“Are you going to work from here today or the tasting room?”

I tip my head back to look at him, asking sarcastically, “Why do I have to tell you when you can just check your cameras?”

“You know,” he starts with a smile forming, meeting my sarcastic tone with his own. “You make it sound strange.”

My eyes go big. “That’s because it is.”

“Not for me. Part of my business is information. I’m not watching you, I’m watching for those I don’t want to get near you.”

“You watched me last night.”

He shrugs unapologetically. “True, but I got to sleep with you in my arms and you’re here now, so it worked. I’ll change my answer. I’m not only watching for those I don’t want near you, but I’m also making sure you don’t put yourself in danger by doing stupid shit.”

“I’ve done okay up until now, and I’m thirty-one,” I throw back at him.

He presses his groin into my stomach for emphasis. “You’re not happy right here? When I had my mouth on you, you didn’t seem like a woman wanting to run out the front door.”

At that I say nothing but do roll my eyes, because he’s right. I’d be scared to death right now had I left in haste like I planned last night. Plus, I have to squeeze my thighs as he presses into me, because right now, I don’t want to be anywhere but right here. In fact, the only thing that would make it better would be more of Crew’s bare skin.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he smiles.

I return his smile, but mine is smaller. “I guess I won’t need to tell you when I get home, since you can see for yourself.”

At this, he laughs.

I don’t say anything else about him watching me, because to see Crew Vega—who can be brooding, sharp, and intense—laugh for the first time, is a sight to see.

And I let every second of it soak in.