Alexis managed to escape her mother’s probing and knowing eye, and snuck off to her apartment after turning down dinner with the ‘rents. She supposed at twenty-nine she should invest in her own place, but the apartment above the tasting room suited her needs just fine.
An open living room, kitchen and eating space, a tiny bathroom barely big enough for a cramped stand-up shower, and a bedroom perfectly spaced for her double bed, dresser, and a coat closet. She didn’t need much hanging space. Her winter coats were the only items she had that needed hangers.
The rest of her wardrobe, work thermals, flannel, and a handful of plain T-shirts, jeans, a few pair of shorts—some for running but most for working—and two pair of black pants, fit in the four drawers of her dresser.
It wasn’t often Alexis went out on dates. None of the locals interested her. She’d grown up with them, played football with them right up through eleventh grade, and talked smack with the best of them. They were more-so her brothers, not love interests.
Not that Ben was anything more than eye candy. Sure, he was handsome in that tall, dark, and mysterious way. Between his jet black hair and over-confident attitude, he should have been dark and imposing, but those eyes…
Ice blue. Like snow banks and icicles glistening in a gorgeous backdrop of a crystal blue sky the day after a wicked nor’easter. That layer of scruff on his face added a rugged edge to his beautifully etched face. She had never swooned over a guy, and she wasn’t about to now. But she could enjoy a hot guy’s company while he tried to show her up.
Alexis chuckled to herself. She hoped the man didn’t have an ego. Or pride issues. She sure the hell didn’t. Not while she was still living with her parents.
Grace had kept her bedroom in the main house, granted her sister was never home so it wasn’t like she was still living at home. Alexis, on the other hand, hadn’t technically left the nest yet.
And there was no need to. She could step out of her apartment and be at work. Not that it felt like work. Testing the grapes, pruning, pressing, bottling, and tasting the wine was no hardship.
It was her life. The smell of the freshly turned earth when planting new seedlings. Measuring, experimenting, and tasting every barrel to make sure it passed the Le Blancs high expectations. It was what made Coastal Vines a long-standing tradition and a tourist hot spot in Crystal Cove.
Not that her little neck of the woods could compete with Rockland or Camden. Still, for a small town, they held their own.
It didn’t happen often, but she’d been on the receiving end of the occasional pick up line from a tourist. It always surprised her. She didn’t wear makeup and dressed for work, not to impress.
She didn’t want to care how she looked; it went against everything she believed in. If a guy couldn’t appreciate her for who she was and what she looked like naturally, screw him. Still, Alexis didn’t need to show up tonight smelling like dirt. She shrugged out of her sports bra and put on her one normal bra; the one with hooks and underwire. The white one with a tiny bow in front. It was as fancy as she got. She tugged on a beige Henley and brushed her hair into a ponytail. Her mother warned her about hair breakage if she wore her hair up all the time, but she couldn’t have it getting in the way of work.
For one-point-two seconds she contemplated wearing it down, or even French braiding it, and decided against it. If anyone saw her they’d make a big to-do over it. Or not recognize her. She slid into her boots, and opened her closet, opting for her navy barn coat instead of the ski jacket. It wasn’t supposed to snow tonight so she didn’t need the waterproof material.
“Be a good boy,” she said to Hemmy, filling his dish with food. “Mama will be home in a couple hours.”
After a few licks to her hand, and a nudge of his head into her waist for a thorough rub, Hemmy ditched her for his food.
Alexis jogged down the stairs that lead to the back of the tasting room and skimmed over the racks. Coastal Vines carried eight varieties of wine. Three whites, four reds, a blush, and hopefully soon, an ice wine.
Ben had said he liked robust, so choosing a red would be too easy for him. To make the night more interesting, she reached for the Hidden Vine and found a blank label to cover it up. It was their best selling white and had a hint of melon.
She grabbed a paper bag and slid the bottle into it, as well as a wine opener. She dug deep in her coat pocket for her keys and locked up behind her. Crime wasn’t an issue in Crystal Cove, but she didn’t need to leave their family’s income open to the public.
The short drive didn’t give her much time to think about how she wanted the night to play out. It had been months since her last date. Or maybe…over a year? Alexis couldn’t remember and didn’t care. Much.
Her summers were busy with taking care of the vines and tourists, not giving her much time to meet anyone. The fall was harvest time, and her winters were fairly shut in, working on recipes, turning the barrels, bottling.
Yeah, Alexis Le Blanc was no sex goddess, and Ben What’s-his-name was a hottie. Their dinner meeting was anything but a date. A challenge, yes. The man was staying nearby on business and bored. He’d be gone soon enough. Which made him the perfect man for Alexis.
She didn’t think she had an itch that needed to be scratched, but she couldn’t ignore the slight tingling she got in her belly when she sat across from Ben at brunch.
Oh, hell, the tingling was lower than her belly, that’s just where it started. An unfamiliar anxiety latched itself onto her hands, and her feet twitched with nervous energy.
Finding a spot close to the front door was not a problem on January ninth. In fact, Alexis was surprised Willie Richmond kept Fish on the Wharf open in the winter months. The locals appreciated it when they wanted a break from their own kitchens, but it wasn’t like Willie was rolling in the dough.
“You coming in?” A deep voice said to her left.
Alexis startled, surprised she hadn’t noticed Ben’s SUV pull up next to her. His body hunched, his face pressed close to the glass of her driver’s side door, his breath forming a warm circle on the window.
“Uh, yup.” Dignified, she was not. Ben stepped back and she opened the door and slid out. “Oh, wait. The wine.” She reached across and found the paper bag sitting on the passenger seat. “Got it.”
“Me, too,” he said with a grin as he held up his bottle, hidden in a brown paper bag as well.
“Well, then. Let’s get this party started.” She opened the door to the restaurant and held it for Ben.
He looked at her skeptically and held his hand on the door high above her head, motioning for her to go first.
Manners. That was nice.
She imagined what he saw through his eyes when they stepped into Willie’s place. Five, four-top scratched wooden tables, each with mismatched chairs, a line of windows looking out over the pier. On a clear, sunny day you could see for miles. Alexis loved watching the sailboats the most.
Tonight, however, all they saw was black. And their reflection. She met Ben’s gaze in the window, and she looked away pretending to scope out the empty place.
“Hey, doll. Haven’t seen you in a while. And you have a man with you.” Willie had grown a potbelly in his retirement, yet kept his bushel of white hair and hardworking hands.
“Don’t go starting rumors, Willie. Remember, I have my share of dirt on you.”
“This one.” Willie pointed a condemning finger at her, but the twinkle in his eye said he was only teasing. “You keep your eye on her. She’s fast. And smart. Not as tough as she likes you boys to think though.”
“I hear Pizza Hut is still open if you’d rather have Italian,” Alexis said to Ben, pretending to ignore Willie.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Willie shook his finger at her.
“Whatdoyasay? Pizza or seafood?”
Catching on fast to her joking, Ben played along. “Fish sticks were my favorite food as a kid. I used to eat them frozen.”
“That’s disgusting.” She curled her lip in distaste.
“Over my dead body,” Willie warned. “This boy needs real food. You two sit your asses down and I’ll make ya a fisherman’s platter. Help yerself to the glasses. I’m not a damn waitress.”
When Willie left through the swinging white doors Alexis took down two wine glasses from a self-serve cabinet and brought them over to the table where Ben stood.
“He’s a character.”
“Willie retired from lobstering seven years ago and drove his wife Helen nearly insane. She was used to having the house to herself, and Willie was used to being up at three and not home until supper. They were at each other’s throats all day. She forced him to find a hobby, get a job, or move out.”
“So he moved out?” Ben took a wine opener from his coat pocket and began to uncork his bottle, still hidden in the paper bag.
“Nope. He cooked to stay busy. Invited over anyone and everyone, partly to piss off Helen, and partly for the entertainment. Helen told him he’d better start charging people to eat before they went broke. When this place opened up, he rented it, dirt cheap since he’s a local favorite, and they’ve been in marital retired bliss ever since.”
“See, it’s those kind of local stories that sell…papers.” He sniffed the cork like an expert then held it out to her.
“You’re a journalist?”
“Not exactly. I’m going to get us some water.”
Alexis watched as his tall, strong body hunched just a tad, his shoulders slouching instead of broad and strong like they were a few minutes ago. And those gorgeous eyes of his lost their sparkle for a fraction of a second. Not long, but long enough for Alexis to notice a difference. The easy-going guy she’d met at the Sunrise Diner had a thin layer of nerves now. Maybe Ben realized he’d challenged himself against a woman who’d been opening bottles of wine and smelling corks since she was six. Not that he could know that.
She forced her gaze away from the denim that stretched nicely over his tight butt as he made his way to the hutch, and studied the cork. There were no familiar markings to indicate its vintage or winery. She held it up to her nose and inhaled the rich scent. A subtle aroma of cherry hit her senses first.
Ben returned with their water, his eyes back to their normal sparkling self. “Do you want to go first?”
“Sure. Since it’s breathing.” He filled her glass and she stuck out her hand to stop him. “This is a bit much for a tasting.”
“It’s already open and I don’t want it to go bad. We might as well drink it up.” He poured himself a glass of wine as well and sipped it as he studied her over the rim of his glass.
Alexis picked up the cheap, scratched glass by the stem and swirled the wine. It was hard to do with such a full glass and Ben grinned mischievously. “You did this on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Chances were if he challenged her to a taste off he was familiar with wines. It wasn’t like central Maine attracted wine connoisseurs from across the globe, but many wine enthusiasts enjoyed visiting the few wineries in Maine.
Being so far out of the way, Maine relied on summer tourists who were here for the scenery, lighthouses, lobsters, and blueberries to also want to partake in local wines.
“Are you going to hold that glass all day or take a swig? You wine people confuse the hell out of me.” Willie placed a heaping pile of fried haddock, scallops, shrimp, and clams between them. “Keep an eye on her. She’ll eat all your scallops when you’re not looking.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Ben held up the paper bag. “Care for a glass of wine, Willie?”
Willie guffawed. “Now don’t that sound funny? Guys like me don’t drink wine. I’m a beer guy. Beer and lobster. Beer battered fish. Beer and fries. Only sissies drink that girly stuff.” He shook his head, mumbling as he stormed back through the swinging doors again.
Alexis couldn’t help but bust out in laughter. Ben looked like he didn’t know if he should be offended or if he should blow off the insult.
“Willie speaks his mind and doesn’t mean anything by it.”
“Really?” he said in disbelief.
“Okay, he means every word he says, but he’s not trying to be cruel or insulting.” She snorted. “Willie’s a town…legend, I guess we’d call him. Even though no one knows his real age. Somewhere between seventy and one hundred. ”
“That’s quite the span.”
“Yeah, being out on the boat your whole life weathers you, no pun intended. His gnarled fingers could be from age, could be from hauling in traps. Probably a combo of both.”
The smell of the fried fish clouded her senses, and she wanted to identify the wine before diving in. Closing her eyes, she took a small sip, swishing it around her mouth and letting it rest on her tongue. Black cherry. Definitely a Merlot and a blend of other grapes.
She swallowed and opened her eyes. Ben’s stare was fixated on her lips. She licked them involuntarily and watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.
“Dark cherry and a hint of cinnamon.”
“Italy, France, Australia, or California.”
“Are those my only choices?”
Ben seemed to think for a moment and nodded.
“It’s too rich for California. Not something Australians use. Not France. I’m going with Italy.” She sipped again. “A blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon.” She licked her lips. “Malbec and…Carmenere. Cinnamon and chocolate.”
“You’ve lived up to your reputation.”
“Oh? And what have you heard of my reputation?”
Ben’s throat did that deep, hard swallowy thing again, and Alexis crossed her legs to avoid squirming in her seat. She reached for a scallop realizing they didn’t have plates yet. Fish on the Wharf was as casual as Mom’s kitchen. Willie cooked, but you served your beverage, got your own plate and silverware, and even cleared and scraped your plate. As he said, he was no waitress.
Alexis slid out of her chair and picked two plates out of the hutch and two forks from the drawer underneath. There was already a roll of paper towels on the table, as well as salt and pepper. She placed a plate and fork in front of Ben and he thanked her.
“Don’t thank me too fast. I’m going to be the one thanking you for dinner since you’re about to lose our bet.”
“Confident, are you?”
Alexis snorted as she stabbed another scallop. “Yup.” She’d recognized the wine from a winery outside of Camden, which gave her a bit of an unfair advantage. “It’s Prince Valiant red. I’ve had it before. Nice choice.”
They ate and drank wine and argued over music. He didn’t like country, and she couldn’t stand hairband metal. And they bickered like kids over the better sport: soccer or football.
“You’re not American if you don’t like football.” Alexis stabbed another scallop with her fork.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like football. I just asked if you’ve ever seen a soccer game.”
“Yeah. The guys who are afraid to get tackled played soccer.”
“What did you play in high school, field hockey?”
“Football.”
Ben finished his glass of red with a smirk as wide as the Atlantic. “For real?”
“Up until my junior year.”
“What happened then?”
“I started my period.” Not one to normally blush, she scooped a glop of ketchup with her French fry and stuffed it in her mouth. When she swallowed it, she sipped her water and cleared her throat. “I grew into my bra, and then a helmet to the chest took on a whole new meaning.” Alexis absently rubbed her chest. His gaze dropped to her hand and she stopped the movement, slowly bringing her hand to her side.
When Ben seemed to get his bearings straight again he wiped his mouth with his napkin and put it back on his lap. “You’re talking high school. I’m talking professional.”
“We don’t see too many professional soccer games in mid-coast Maine. Football is the way to go.”
“I’ll take you to a soccer game sometime.”
Sure. The beautiful man was here on business for a week, maybe less, he didn’t say, and she’d never see him again. Like he’d come all the way to the middle of nowhere, drop godforsaken amounts of money for plane tickets to go see a professional soccer game. She didn’t even know where those were played. Nowhere close, she was sure.
Needing to distract her mind from playing fairy tale games with her, she reached for the wine, still hidden in its own paper bag, and uncorked it. “I say you’ve stalled long enough. Time to pay up.”
Alexis handed him the cork, curious if he’d sniff it like a candle, or take the time to inhale the essence from the bottle. She studied him as he slid it across the top of his lip and she imagined her tongue there, doing the same thing.
No! Not that. She took a long gulp of her water before pouring him a glass of the white wine.
“White. You’re clever.” His eyes twinkled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I like you, Alexis Le Blanc. You’re a fun lady.” It was the sweetest, kindest, most real compliment a man had ever given her. She was used to the hard working, loyal, trustworthy accolades those around town gave her. No one had ever accused her of being fun though. Fun, she was not. Alexis was the looked-over sister. The one you called for help around town, not to hang out with or take on a sexy date.
She poured a glass of white for herself and gulped it down, a poor attempt to squelch her pity-party, before Ben had even tried his first sip.
He mimicked her initial tasting habits. A small sip, a swish, a swirl, and a swallow. His throat was a thing of beauty, long and masculine, and her eyes were two magnets drawn to it. She imagined what he’d taste like.
Spicy. Chocolate. Sexy. Nothing like the wine she’d given him to sample.
“Tell me what you taste.” Alexis didn’t mean for her voice to come out so husky.
His eyebrow lifted, as did the corner of his lip. “Smooth. A blend of something unique. I can’t quite place the grapes.” He sipped again. “And a hint of melon.”
He was good. A worthy opponent for her. “France, Italy, Australia or California?”
Hesitation filled his eyes, then he sipped again before putting the glass back down on the table. “France.”
“Ehhh,” she buzzed. “Maine. All our grapes are grown right here in Crystal Cove.” The original harvest came from Italy. Her grandfather discovered a French blend and planted new vines, making Crystal Cove into a decent wine-producing vineyard.
“You didn’t give me that option. I’d call that cheating.”
“I didn’t say you had to pick one of those.”
“Competitive much?” Ben smiled into his glass and sipped again. “It’s very good.”
“Thank you. It’s a blend of Aurore, La Crescent, and Cayuga grapes. We have small crops of each. It’s our unique blend. Hidden Vine White.”
“Clever. These are grapes I’m…not accustomed to.”
“Looks like I won.” Alexis held up her glass in a toast.
He licked his lips, a tinge of regret glazing over his baby blues. “Right. Dinner’s on me.”
The swirling in her belly was something new. She’d eaten at Willie’s plenty of times before and never had a reaction. She didn’t want to think it was Ben’s charming personality or his smile that lit up the freaking room that made her feel this way. But she couldn’t help the little flutters of lust that tickled her belly and parts unknown when on the receiving end of his hypnotic gaze.
They finished their fried fish, sipping the wines they brought, and teased each other once again about their choice in music. There were times when she caught herself flirting, and Alexis quickly tamped it down, not wanting to come across as needy or…well, flirty.
“You folks sure the hell took your time. Gonna miss Duck Dynasty if I don’t get home soon,” Willie said, his coat and winter hat already on.
“They’re all reruns anyway,” Alexis teased.
“Don’t mean I don’t wanna be home for ‘em.”
“Thank you, Willie. The food was excellent. What do I owe you?” Ben reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
Alexis slid into her coat and bit her lip in amusement.
“I dunno.”
Ben looked at Alexis and she shrugged, hiding her smile.
“Do you have a bill for us?”
“A bill? Whatdoyou think I am? A cashier? I just cook food for people. Do whatever you want.” Willie walked out ahead of them waiting at the door.
Alexis put Ben out of his misery and filled him in. “Willie doesn’t have a set menu or prices. It makes him feel like he’s working for us, and he wants to work for himself. We slip money in the drawer next to the silverware.”
“What do I pay him?”
“Whatever you want.”
She was tempted to see if he was a cheapskate or a big tipper, but she politely averted her eyes as he peeled some bills out of his wallet and closed the drawer on the hutch.
“Crazy way to run a business,” he muttered as he placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her out the door.
“It’s not a business, he’s retired, remember?”
Willie didn’t wait to say goodbye, too anxious to get home and into his easy chair. The taillights to his battered Ford were tiny specks of red by the time Alexis unlocked her car.
“Thank you for dinner,” Ben said behind her, his warm breath mingling with the cold night air on her cheek.
“Shouldn’t I be thanking you?” She turned, Ben’s body trapping her between him and her car. God, he was adorable. So different from the duds she’d dated in the past. Since he was just passing through town, she could afford to take a chance on him. Maybe. Possibly.
“You introduced me to your family’s wine and showed me a little taste of the local color in Crystal Cove. I doubt many people get such service on their first day in town.”
“Nah, all the tourists do. You just feel special because it’s the middle of winter and you don’t have any competition right now.”
Ben’s eyes darkened at her words, which she had meant as a joke, not a sexual tease.
“Do you treat all your tourists to a…private tasting?” he asked, his mouth dangerously close to hers.
“Uh, uh.” Alexis licked her lips and inhaled his scent. Musky and sweet at the same time. She leaned her body into his, lifting herself on her toes, hoping he’d meet her halfway.
And he did. Ben’s lips mingled with hers, resting, barely moving, taking tiny tastes with his tongue along the seam of her mouth. She opened wider, wanting all of him, but he held back, his lips tickling hers.
“Ben,” she moaned and grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in rough and fast, pressing her lips hard against his. He tasted like salt and melon and grapes, and she wanted to bottle him up and savor him. Forever.
Blood rushed through her veins making her tingle and come alive with want. With need. With passion.
Two strong hands moved under her coat and rubbed hard into her back, massaging up and down her spine. She had to force her body back or she’d be dry humping him in the middle of Fish on the Wharf. Thank God it wasn’t daylight or she’d be in the weekly Crystal Cove Tribune.
She wanted him. It had been too long, and he wouldn’t be looking for anything more than she was willing to give. Maybe they’d even have time for a second quickie before he left. It didn’t matter. She was horny, and by the feel of him pressed tight up against her, so was Ben.
“Where are you staying?” she mumbled into his mouth.
He pulled back, breaking the suction of her lips around his tongue and dropped his hands from her back. She would have felt completely rejected if he hadn’t rested his forehead against hers and let out a deep sigh.
“Alexis,” he groaned. “You have no idea how much I want this.”
Sure he did. And here comes the rejection yet again, the excuses.
Story of her life. This is why she didn’t do the dating thing. Besides not having the time or the male resources, it always came down to the “let’s just be friends” excuse. She wasn’t tall enough. Pretty enough. Girly enough.
Alexis Le Blanc was a good time, but never…enough.
Tomboy through and through, she was great for hanging around with, having a few good laughs, sharing a bottle of wine, but never more than that. She kept her chin held high and took the rejection with dignity. As always.
“It’s okay. I get it.” She would have stepped back if her car wasn’t in the way.
“No.” Ben pulled her into him again and kissed her slowly, deeply. This time he was the one in control. His hands moved up her sides and cupped her cheeks, the pads of his thumbs tracing along her nose, around where their mouths met, and down her chin.
“I don’t want to rush things with you. I…like you too much,” he whispered in her ear as he nibbled on her earlobe
He warmed her from the core, and her head began to swim. From the wine? Maybe a little. Mostly from Ben’s kiss. It was so warm, so full of passion. The combination of musk and fruit, so opposite yet so right. So Ben.
This time when he broke their kiss he hugged her tight. “I’m going to be in Crystal Cove for the rest of the week.” That was good news. “I’d like to…do this again.”
“Dinner?” She asked, her face nestled into his warm chest, not wanting to assume he meant anything else. Been there. Done that.
“Dinner would be nice as well.”
“Oh, the wine tasting? I can give you directions to our winery.”
Ben’s body stiffened and he rested his chin on her head. “I’d like to continue right here, where we’re leaving off.”
“Outside Fish on the Wharf?” Alexis wasn’t one to talk about kissing or dating. Or sex. The guys she used to hang out with didn’t want any of that from her, and the few men she’d dated either only wanted that, or nothing at all. Insecurity burned through her all over again. She wouldn’t get her hopes high again.
“If that’s what you want.” Ben tipped up her chin, those ice blue eyes twinkling with something. Lust?
Maybe, just this time the gods were on her side, sending one of their own to her doorstep—or rather, town—to sweep her away from the monotony of her life. To add a little spice and excitement in her drab life. Not that she had thought anything wrong with it…until tall, dark, and handsome seared her with his sweet lips.
“Or your hotel?”
“If that’s still what you want tomorrow.”
Oh, she’d still want him tomorrow. He was giving her time, making sure she didn’t rush and regret anything, leaving her in heavy heat. The man was pure evil. A sexual genius.
“I have no doubt in my mind.”
Or her body.