Page 39 of The Sweetness of Life

Why does she have to be a critic, a workaholic? If she were anyone else . . . doing anything else . . .

Together we grab the dishes, take them out to the cart, and load them into the back. Once we’re finished, she turns away, and I drag my eyes over the length of her. Even in flip-flops, her legs stretch on for days. Like a lost puppy, I follow her.

Spinning around, she catches me staring at her ass and shakes her head.

“What?” I shrug my shoulders and grin at her.

“You are something else.” She smirks and then keeps walking, heading for the door. Even though her lips are pinched together, her cheeks are red and she’s fighting a smile.

I turn and follow her, noticing her movements are smoother, fluid. The little she-devil likes being watched.

“Do you want me to deny it? Because I won’t. I very much enjoy looking at you as often as possible.”

“Wha—” She spins around, collides with my chest, and doesn’t step away. Instead, her fingers wrap around my arm for balance, and I pull her in closer. She doesn’t move, and neither do I.

“Easy there,” I mutter, brushing her hair over and off her shoulder. “And you’re not even wearing any of your ridiculous shoes.”

“Hey, I like my shoes.” She raises an eyebrow and tilts her chin. I suppose the gesture is supposed to show indignation, but instead, it looks inviting.

“I never said I didn’t like them, but the farm might not be the best place for them.”

She opens her mouth to reply, and my eyes drop to her full lips. As she hesitates, I wonder what she would do if I kissed her.

“Whatever. They make me happy.” She pulls out of my hold and walks toward the door.

I want to reply that she’s making me happy, but that’s crazy. She’s still the same person she was when she pulled up to the vineyard, someone I would never see myself with—only I can’t seem to stay away from her, and there isn’t anything stopping me right now.

“I think you should eavesdrop and get us some feedback on what everyone does and doesn’t like.” She throws the words over her shoulder.

“How could they not like any of it? It all looks amazing.”

“Well, you never know.” She pauses right outside the door and turns to face me. Of course, I followed her; I couldn’t help myself.

“Forget something?” Her eyes are large and filled with an equal mix of apprehension and anticipation. She clasps her hands in front of her and bites down on the inside of her lip. My eyes again drop to her mouth, and I take in a slow deep breath. I don’t know why it hasn’t dawned on me sooner, but she does this when she’s nervous.

“Yeah, I think I did.” I move closer, and her head tips back so she can look into my eyes. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but what’s one kiss? The constant temptation, pull, and curiosity will end, I’ll get this out of my system, and we can all move on.

Slowly, I raise my hand to cup her chin, and my thumb drags over her bottom lip, freeing it from between her teeth. The inside is stained red from the wine, and there are tiny marks from her teeth. The fire in me grows hotter with each passing second.

This girl . . . oh, what she does to me.

I want her.

I want her very much.

Sliding my hand around to the back of her neck, I let my fingers tangle in the silkiness of her hair. She lets out a little noise, almost as if she’s going to resist, but then her eyelids drift shut and the rise and fall of her chest increases.

She should be stopping me, but she isn’t. She’s leaning into my hand, and I soak up every little detail of her face. From the way her hair hangs across her forehead to her long dark blonde eyelashes fanning over her cheekbones, the freckles across the bridge of her nose and the shape of her chin . . . she’s gorgeous.

Then I lean down, letting the heat of her skin hit me first, and I kiss her cheek. Except for the time in the cellar, this is the closest we’ve been, and I’m about to incinerate that memory with this one. She lets out a breath as I tilt her head to the side, slide my lips to the edge of her mouth, and kiss the corner of her lips.

One little kiss.

She trembles in my arms. This moment is just as overwhelming for her as it is for me.

Being this close to her skin, the flavor of honey overtakes me, sweetening my senses. I loved honey before, but now I could eat it every day for the rest of my life and never find myself fully satisfied. There’s something about this girl that overrides reason, and it leaves me desperate to get more.

Her lips part, and I don’t know what I’m waiting for. Easing back a little, my eyes find hers, and they’re no longer a light blue; they’re darker. They’re full of emotion and longing, a longing that’s just for me, and it sends a wave of awareness through every nerve in my body. She wants this more than she doesn’t, and I hope she doesn’t regret it.