Simply Irresistible Read online

  “You’ve got a deal!” Wes headed out in the other direction, while Reeve hauled his groceries to the truck. Maybe he would make an extra stop at the bakery for those pies. Sure, he was already going big, cooking dinner from scratch for their very first date, but after all their false starts and blowups, he was still making up for lost time.

  And he was going to give Jules a night she wouldn’t forget.

  Jules thought she knew what she was getting herself into when she showed up at the vineyard in her date night jeans, and an off-the-shoulder top she was hoping was the right balance of ‘casual style’ and ‘take me now’. She’d been on her share of first dates. She’d flirted over dive bar beers and fancy restaurant linens and everything in between; she had her ‘get to know you’ quips down. This dinner with Reeve was no big deal, she told herself, ringing the doorbell. All she had to do was act casual and breezy, and keep from spontaneously combusting with desire every time the man smiled at her.

  Simple.

  But it turned out, she didn’t know much at all, because Reeve greeted her at the door with damp hair, bare feet, and a sky-blue button-down shirt, smelling like citrus shampoo and looking like a tasty four-course gourmet meal all on his own.

  And Jules promptly forgot about playing it cool, because it was all she could do to keep from melting into a puddle at his feet.

  “Hi,” she blurted, thrusting the bakery box she was holding into his arms. “I know you said not to bring anything, but, well, I was passing by, and everything looked really good.”

  Reeve smiled. “Great minds think alike.” He leaned in and casually kissed her on the cheek. “Come on in, before the sauce burns.”

  She followed him to the kitchen, her mouth already watering—and not from the delicious smells wafting in the air. “Is this where your family lived?” she asked, looking curiously around the old farmhouse.

  “Yup.” Reeve flashed her a grin over his shoulder. “You’ll see the original shag carpets and orange linoleum, but don’t worry about spiders, dad must have hired in a cleaning service, because the place is in pretty good shape—if you can look past the color scheme.”

  “I don’t know… It looks cool to me. The seventies are back,” Jules quipped.

  They reached the kitchen, and then Jules found she was really in trouble. Fresh vegetables were set on the counter, pans were simmering on the stove, and the smell of garlic and butter wafted in the air. “Oh my gosh, that smells amazing,” she breathed.

  “The recipe’s pretty foolproof,” Reeve replied, going to stir and taste at the stove. “My sister, Margo, taught me to cook a bunch of things before I went off to college,” he explained. “She said it would stop me wasting away on junk food—and maybe impress the girls, too.”

  “I’ll let you know about that,” she replied with an arch grin, and Reeve laughed.

  “Admit it, you’re impressed already.”

  She was, but Jules wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. She perched at a stool by the kitchen counter, and watched him slice and stir. She never thought watching a man chop onions could be sexy, but she’d never seen Reeve do it before. He had his sleeves rolled up, revealing tanned forearms with a dusting of golden hair, his movements steady and masterful.

  What would it feel like with those hands on her?

  Jules blushed, and looked away. It was way too early to be melting down; she was supposed to be keeping it easy and breezy. “Water?” she managed. “No, don’t worry, I can get it myself.”

  She opened the cabinet over the sink at random, and found a water glass, running the faucet and gulping it down in an attempt to cool off.

  It didn’t work. Maybe she should just dunk her head under the cold water instead.

  “So, how are things going here with the vineyard?” she babbled, clutching the water glass to her chest. “Are you managing to get things straightened out for your dad?”

  “No comment,” Reeve said with a rueful grin. “How’s your job hunt working out?”

  “No comment,” Jules echoed in the same tone, and he laughed.

  “Then that’s the last we’ll say about it. Come, taste this, and tell me if you think it needs more salt.” He dipped a spoon in the sauce and held it out to her, and Jules moved closer, leaning in to taste.

  It was delicious.

  “Not too spicy?” Reeve asked, his voice dropping to a murmur. His blue eyes were fixed on hers, and it was all Jules could do to shake her head, reeling from the seductive intensity in his gaze.

  “N-no… It’s perfect.”

  Reeve drew her closer, and dipped his lips to hers. He kissed her slowly, easing her lips apart and sliding his tongue deep into her mouth in a luxurious dance. Jules shivered in his arms, lost to the rush of electricity sparking between them and the sensual glide of his mouth on hers.

  Reeve drew back, licking his lips. “Perfect, huh?” he asked, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll take that review.”

  Jules laughed out loud. “You look awfully satisfied for a man who hasn’t even fed me yet,” she said, despite the fact her knees were weak.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Reeve tore off a piece of bread, spread it with butter, and passed it to her. As Jules took a bite, he leaned in and kissed her again—on her neck this time, whispering a shiver of kisses down the curve of her throat and across her sensitive collarbone.

  Jules swayed back against the countertop, lightheaded and in bliss at his teasing, seductive touch. They hadn’t even sat down for the main course, but boy, did this man know how to cook. He lifted his mouth to hers again, kissing her even more deeply, until Jules’ hands were in his hair, and her body was arching shamelessly against his, and all hopes of playing it cool were gone for good.

  Who needed cool? She would take blazing, burning passion like this any day. She pressed closer, gripping a greedy handful of his shirt as she explored the contours of his mouth and—

  BEEP!

  A timer went off, and Reeve dragged himself away to take a pan off the heat. “Hungry?” he asked, running a hand through his hair, and Jules nodded fervently.

  “Starved,” she said, but it wasn’t the spaghetti she was craving. But clearly, Reeve was trying to be a gentleman, because he focused on draining the water and stirring in the sauce—instead of ravishing her right there on the kitchen counter.

  “I’ve set everything up outside,” he said, flashing her a smile. “Go on through and get comfy. Dinner is served.”

  * * *

  It was a shame, Jules couldn’t help thinking, as she blindly took another forkful of food. Reeve had gone to all this trouble, setting up a table out on the back patio, with fresh linens and a glass jar of fresh-cut roses. The garlic bread smelled divine, the sauce was rich and delicious, the sunset was photo-perfect… And Jules could barely notice any of it, she was too busy burning up with desire.

  When would this man just push the plates aside and kiss her?

  “… known her long?”

  “Hmm?” Jules blinked. She’d been staring at his lips so hard, she hadn’t heard a word coming out of them.

  He smirked. “I asked if you’d been friends with Evie long. You two seem to go way back.”

  She nodded. “Since college. I always figured we’d wind up growing old together, Grey Gardens-style, with matching caftans in a creaking old house somewhere.”

  Reeve chuckled. “Plenty of creaking old houses on the Cape.”

  “True… ” Jules paused. Even when Evie was married to Glen, she’d just figured he would be off in his lab, working on something while the two of them sipped their cocktails and gossiped into their eighties. But now, with Noah, her vision of the future had changed. Evie would have a family of her own, a love that consumed her. And Jules?

  She wanted that for herself, too.

  She quickly changed the subject. “So tell me about California,” she said, taking another sip of wine.

  “What about it?”
<
br />   “Anything.” Jules studied him, realizing how much she didn’t know about this man. Sure, she was intimately acquainted with his kisses, but she had no idea of the life he lived outside Sweetbriar Cove. “You’ve barely said a word about it. Do you hit the Hollywood clubs every weekend, or spend your days surfing?”

  Reeve smiled. “Neither. I can’t stand all the party kids, and for some reason, I never could find my balance on the board.” He took another bite of bread.

  That was it?

  “What are your hobbies?” Jules tried again. “Where do you call home?”

  “The past few months, I’ve been housesitting for a client of mine,” Reeve replied. “Blake Callahan.”

  “The movie star?” Jules asked, her voice rising.

  He grinned. “Yup. He’s been shooting a movie with his wife in Australia, so I’ve been keeping an eye on the place.”

  “So you’ve been living large in movie-star style.” Jules whistled. “No wonder you didn’t want to leave.”

  “It’s convenient, not having to break a lease every time I have to go abroad,” Reeve continued. “It’s my job to oversee the wine production for my clients, so I’m back and forth to Europe a lot, and South America, too.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Jules gave a wistful sigh, just imagining sunning herself in the South of France.

  “It was, especially for a guy straight out of college,” he said. “Getting to travel the world on someone else’s dime, visiting the best vineyards in the world. But these days... ” he paused, and looked around. “I guess the jet lag hits harder now I’m older.”

  “Positively ancient,” she teased. “But if you need a stand-in to enjoy Paris and Tuscany, you’ve got my number. I don’t know much about wine, but I can certainly learn for that first-class ticket.”

  Reeve chuckled. “I’ll keep it in mind. What about you, itching to get back to Boston?”

  Jules took another sip. “Not just yet. I’ve been working flat-out for so long, it’s kind of nice that I don’t have any choice but to slow down and enjoy the summer.”

  Summer, and other things.

  Reeve met her eyes, and raised his glass in a toast. “To finding the best in an unexpected summer.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Jules swallowed down the rest of her wine. It was downright dangerous having such a steady supply of the stuff. She studied the bottle. “Another one of yours, I’m guessing?”

  “No,” Reeve smiled. “That one’s an import. I dug it out of the cellar for the occasion. There are bottles down there that are over a hundred years old.” Reeve suddenly got to his feet. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He took her hand, and led her around to the back of the lodge, where a creaking old door led them down a dim curved stone staircase. Jules carefully followed, trying to keep her footing on the stairs.

  “So, this is the part of the date where you show me your sex dungeon?” she quipped, and Reeve laughed.

  “I mean, since we’ve broken the ice and all… ”

  He pushed open another door, and flipped on a light. They were standing in a long brick cellar, lined with wooden wine-racks holding what must have been hundreds of bottles. “This place goes on and on!” Jules exclaimed, peering into the dark.

  “We lay down bottles from every vintage – every year,” Reeve explained. “They age over time, and the flavors develop. Some of these bottles are from grapes we harvested when I was a kid. And these guys… This collection is my father’s pride and joy.” He showed Jules a corner filled with dust-covered bottles, dark with age. “This is a ’99 Château Pétrus, the last of their supreme blends… And this is an Italian wine, from Giacomo Conterno, they only make five hundred cases.”

  “See, you do love this stuff,” she said, watching the way he grew animated; his fingertips reverently stroking over the bottles as they passed. “You talk like wine is just a job to you, but deep down, you really care.”

  Reeve looked bashful. “I just want to make sure my dad doesn’t screw everything up. Some of these bottles are worth a lot of money.”

  “Sure.” Jules smiled. “You can try and play it cool, but you can’t fake a passion like this.”

  “No, you can’t,” Reeve said, staring directly at her. Jules heart flipped over in her chest, and then they were reaching for each other, his mouth hot and hungry on hers. Jules moaned into his mouth, stumbling back until she hit the solid table behind her, and Reeve’s body was flush against her chest.

  Yes. This was what she’d been waiting for, maybe since the moment they’d first met. Hot mouths and unrestrained hunger; an inferno of pure desire. Jules slid her hands over his back, under his shirt, loving the feel of his bare skin under her hands as Reeve nipped lightly at her neck, one knee wedged between her legs, already making her ache for more. She arched against him, shameless, and he kissed her deeper, sliding his tongue into her mouth as his hands roamed over her body, squeezing and sliding, making her gasp with shocked pleasure as he cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt, bringing her nipples to tender peaks.

  “God, Jules… ” he groaned, lifting her suddenly and laying her back on the table. He peeled her top down, his ravenous gaze raking over every inch of her skin. His mouth soon followed, licking over her skin, sucking and teasing at her breasts until she was dizzy with the breathless pleasure of it all. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”

  “I know,” she managed. He lifted an eyebrow, amused. “I mean… I’ve wanted you too.”

  She felt giddy, reckless, finally free to explore his body, their mouths tangling in a heated dance as she stroked, and teased, and made him groan with need until Reeve pinned her eager hands down and fixed her with a dark stare. “Stay still,” he murmured, and began kissing his way down her body.

  All the way down.

  Jules fell back with a gasp as he parted her thighs and licked up against her. Oh God. It was torture; pure, blissful torture as he took his sweet time, tongue swirling in a delicate dance, making her ache. Making her moan. “Reeve… ” She clutched at his shoulders, bucking wantonly against his mouth. “Reeve, please.”

  He paused, lifting his head to watch her as she writhed. “Did you need something?” he asked, a teasing smirk on his handsome face.

  It just about undid her. “You,” Jules managed to say, gripping his collar and dragging him up to cover her. “I need you. Now.”

  Reeve’s controlled slipped, and he let out a low curse, capturing her mouth again in a desperate kiss. Jules’ hands went to his belt, and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks when he managed to produce a condom from his pocket. Then, there was no time for thought, or even words. No space in her mind once he laid her back on the table, and slowly eased inside.

  There was just him. Reeve. Filling her up with a slow, perfect friction that send Jules soaring; thrusting into her until she saw stars. She arched against him, meeting his rhythm, urging him on; the sweat of their bodies slick between them, the feel of his body so perfect.

  So right.

  “Jules,” he groaned, sliding deeper, and she was lost to him. Holding on for dear life, somehow unleashed. Unbound. Hurtling towards the edge, mad with the need of it all, until Reeve reached between them, and stroked her, just right, and Jules couldn’t hold back any longer. She shattered with pleasure, crying out, hearing the echo of their voices in the cellar as she held on to Reeve, and never wanted to let go.

  Because oh, this man was something else.

  And Jules couldn’t wait for another taste.

  8

  Jules woke with sunlight streaming through an unfamiliar window. For a moment, she made a mental note to put up curtains in her new studio/shed—

  Then Reeve’s arms snaked around her waist, pulling her back snug against him, and she remembered exactly where she was.

  And who was sprawled in bed beside her.

  She smiled with pure satisfaction. “Good morning,” she murmured, rolling over to face him. Reeve looked sleepy
in the morning light, with sun-kissed hair in his eyes and a dusting of stubble on his jaw, and again, Jules had to marvel. She could have looked at this man all day.

  If the urge to kiss him wasn’t even stronger than that.

  “Good morning,” Reeve echoed, finding her lips in a lazy kiss. Jules sighed happily against his mouth, loving that she could take her time, lazing there in the sunlight. No more fighting her desire, or agonizing over his intentions. Just her, and him, in a king-sized bed.

  Clothing optional.

  She was just exploring the tanned, toned planes of his chest when her stomach suddenly let out an unwelcome rumble, reminding her she’d been operating pretty much on fumes all night. Jules pulled away. “Do we have any leftovers from dinner?”

  Reeve looked amused. “Didn’t I feed you enough last night?”

  “No!” Jules protested. “I was too nervous to eat a thing. My stomach was tangled up in knots.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to make up for that,” Reeve said, scooping her into his arms for another kiss. “Because I have plans for the two of us, and you’re going to need your stamina.”

  Jules shivered with anticipation. “Bring it,” she declared, leaping out of bed. She pulled on one of Reeve’s clean shirts, and padded barefoot through to the kitchen. She rifled through the refrigerator, and cheered when she found Reeve had stashed their leftovers in Tupperware boxes.

  “You can eat cold spaghetti and garlic bread at eight in the morning?” Reeve asked, watching her in amusement from the doorway. Jules paused a second to admire the sight of him clad only in boxer briefs.

  “What do you think I am, an animal?” she replied, whisking a plate to the table. “I’m going to reheat it in the microwave!”

  Reeve laughed as she set the timer. “Two minutes, hmm? I wonder what we could do with that time.”

  “Even you’re not that good,” Jules shot back with a smirk.

  Reeve quirked an eyebrow. “Watch me.”