Simply Irresistible Page 13

  “Now where’s the fun in that?”

  Their laughter followed Jules back into the house. She took the long way around to the bathroom, peeking curiously into every room that she passed to take in the furnishings and huge picture windows. Cassie had said something about being an interior designer, and it definitely showed.

  “Beautiful, right?” Rose was just coming down the hallway when Jules peeked into the office nearby. “How many bouquets do you think I’d need to sell to live in a house like this?”

  “It depends who you sell them to,” Jules joked, and Rose laughed.

  “Good point. I’d ask how you’ve been,” she added with a smirk, “But it’s written all over your face. I hear you and Reeve found some common ground, after all.”

  “Do they send out a daily bulletin?” Jules asked, only half-kidding. “’Today, the weather in town will be breezy, there’s a sale on peaches at the market, and Jules Rivera and Reeve Hastings were seen canoodling at the beach.’”

  Rose laughed. “It’s a challenge to keep your business under wraps in this town, but it is possible. You just have to learn to be discreet.” Her lips curled in a secretive smile, reminding Jules of the conversation they started the last time they’d met.

  “That’s right,” she said, remembering. “You’re seeing someone, too!”

  “Shhh.” Rose hushed her, glancing around. “Like I said: discreet.”

  “Sorry,” Jules said quickly. “But you can tell me, right? I’m great at keeping secrets.” She batted her eyelashes in her best innocent look, and Rose giggled.

  “It’s not a secret, not really. I guess I’m just nervous about screwing things up since I can’t believe it’s finally happening. His name is Scott. We’ve been friends for years,” she explained. “Or rather, he’s been a friend, and I’ve been pining hopelessly—”

  “Been there, done that,” Jules agreed.

  “—Until last month, we wound up kissing one night after a party,” Rose shared, her smile becoming downright giddy. “And now we’re… Together, I guess. Finally.”

  “That’s so great!” Jules cheered. “We’ll have to all get drinks together, with Reeve and Scott—when you’re ready to stop being so discreet.”

  “I’d love that.” Rose beamed.

  She headed outside, while Jules continued on to the bathroom, pleased she wasn’t the only one in the first, breathless throes of romance. It must be the season for it, Jules decided. All those hot summer nights. It could make a girl forget herself and go falling head-over-heels into the nearest pair of tanned, muscular arms.

  She was just rinsing her hands when her phone buzzed with a new voicemail. Jules pulled out her phone. She must have missed the call in the flurry of gossip and baby kissing.

  “Hi, Ms Rivera? This is Susan Kellerman, calling from Sojourn Magazine.”

  Jules bit back a squeal. Sojourn was a cool travel magazine based out of Boston that had been advertising for a social media manager. She’d sent an application a week ago, and hadn’t been holding her breath, but Susan explained on the voicemail that she was on their shortlist.

  “We’d love you to submit a more detailed portfolio, so we can get a sense of your work. I’ll email all the details, and look forward to talking with you soon.”

  Jules rushed back out onto the patio. “I’m on a shortlist!” she exclaimed, grabbing Evie. “I finally got a call-back about a job!”

  “Finally!” Evie joined the celebrations. “You’re going to blow them away.”

  “I can use all the stuff I’ve been doing for the Beachcomber,” Jules said, already thinking ahead to her portfolio. What would impress the snooty travel tastemakers at the magazine? “I can use everything I did for Rory, but that’s not really the right thing. The Sweetbriar Cove town stuff I’ve been doing is better, but I’ve only been helping out with the social media for a couple of weeks… ”

  “What about the vineyard?” Evie suggested. “I bet Reeve would let you set up a website and some social media pages. It’s travel-ish, at least, and every little helps.”

  “It definitely couldn’t hurt,” Jules agreed.

  * * *

  Which is how she came to spend the rest of the week roaming the vineyard, photographing every inch of the picturesque property to upload to its brand new social media pages.

  “I told you, I don’t need to advertise the place,” Reeve said, watching her tap away on her laptop, as he wiped down the bar. “I’m selling it, remember? Hopefully to the nice couple who’ll be arriving to view the place in… five minutes,” he said, checking his watch and then wiping harder. Aunt June had finally lined up a potential buyer for the property, and Reeve had been up since dawn preparing.

  “This isn’t for you, it’s for me.” Jules reminded him. “I need the extra work for my portfolio. Most people would be thrilled to get my expertise for free,” she teased, trying to lighten his mood. “And all you have to do is pay me in pizza and kisses.”

  Reeve managed a distracted smile. “I draw the line at ordering Hawaiian.”

  “Philistine.” Jules lifted her laptop to let him clean the bar beneath. “Take a breath,” she said, noticing his stress levels rising. “They’ll love the place. Who wouldn’t?”

  “Anyone with half a brain,” Reeve muttered, but when she hooked a finger over his collar and tugged him closer for a kiss, he finally exhaled.

  “I know, I need to relax.”

  “Just a little.” Jules smiled. “But the bar could probably use a good clean, after what we did on it last night.”

  Or rather, what he’d done to her; laying her back and making her see stars, even under the wood-paneled ceiling.

  “Why do you think I’m wiping so hard?” Reeve replied, his grin turning wolfish. “Anytime you’d like a repeat performance… ”

  “I’m not sure that would help woo your buyers.” Jules laughed. “But you wow them, I’ll get this Instagram story done, and we’ll celebrate later.”

  She gave him another kiss just as Aunt June arrived. “What did I tell you?” June cooed to the couple walking in behind her. “This place is perfect for a pair of lovebirds.”

  Reeve pulled away, and wiped his palms before going to greet them. “This is Artie Johansson,” June said, making the introductions. “And what was it, sweetheart?”

  “Casey,” a brunette woman said, beaming in skin-tight pastel yoga gear. “With a C, not a K.”

  “Lovely.”

  Jules took them in curiously. Artie must have been pushing seventy, with a bald patch and potbelly under his linen jacket, and Jules would have assumed Casey was his daughter if she hadn’t been nuzzling at his ear like that.

  “Oh baby, look at the view! It’s just perfect for my meditation temple,” Casey squealed, moving towards the doors. “It’ll be sooo peaceful once we rip out all the vines. I can just picture it, one with nature.”

  Jules blinked. “You want to rip up the vineyard... To bring you closer to nature?” she echoed in disbelief.

  “Uh huh.” Casey beamed. “We’re looking for a property where we can be totally sustainable, living in harmony with the earth and sea. We’d have to tear down this structure, of course,” she turned on her heel, eyeing the historic lodge. “And build something more environmentally friendly.”

  “Great,” Jules managed weakly. She shot a look at Reeve, but his expression was giving nothing away.

  “Why don’t I take you around the rest of the estate?” June said brightly. “There’s a creek that you’ll just love. Didn’t you say you were a water sign?”

  “Yes!” Casey exclaimed. “Pisces!”

  * * *

  Artie and Casey spent another hour traipsing every inch of the vineyard, before Aunt June ushered them out the front door. The moment they were out of earshot, Jules turned to Reeve. “Did you hear that?” she demanded. “They want to rip the place up. You can’t be thinking about selling to them!”

  Reeve gave a shrug. “If they’re the only o
ffer, then… What choice do I have?”

  Jules bit her lip. She still had faith that he could turn this place around, and now that he was finally letting her set up these social media accounts, she was sure she could bring more business in. “Don’t make any rash decisions, that’s all I’m saying,” Jules finally answered. “Aunt June has had the listing for, what, just a couple of weeks? Who knows what might happen?”

  “The bank decides to send enforcers to remind me who’s boss?” Reeve asked darkly.

  She smiled. “I think you’re mixing them up with the Mob,” she said, taking his hand. “I don’t really see Cape Cod Savings and Loan bringing out the baseball bats for a late payment.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Reeve said, but he was smiling now. “The woman at the teller window looks like she knows how to pack heat.”

  He leaned against the bar, with a dishcloth in one hand, framed against the wall of vintage wine bottles behind him. He looked rugged, and handsome, good enough to kiss. But instead, Jules put her desire on pause, lifted her cellphone, and snapped a photo.

  “What’s that for?” he asked.

  “Your profile pages.” Jules tapped to upload it. “There. Look at those eyes. You don’t even need a filter.”

  She showed him the Instagram page, and he took her phone, scrolling through the profile that was all of seven days old. She’d been working overtime, making it look like it had been active for months: tantalizing close-ups of wine glasses, sweeping views of the vineyard, old vintage pics of Reeve and his family out in the vines…

  “You did all of this?” he asked, sounding surprised. “It looks like this place is actually a successful business.”

  “That’s the plan.” Jules smiled proudly. “The vineyard has history. If you show people the story of it all, they’ll want to be a part of it. Come for a visit, order the wine… Your dad didn’t even have a website where people could find the address! The one I set up for you is just a placeholder for now, but it has an order form where people can reserve wine.” She clicked through, showing off her hard work, and even Reeve looked impressed.

  “I have movie star clients whose social media doesn’t look this good.”

  “Let’s hope Sojourn agrees.” Jules made a show of crossing her fingers, but she wasn’t kidding. She needed all the luck she could get if she was going to stand out from the crowd. She’d poured so much time and effort into this portfolio, but even so, she couldn’t be sure it was enough to secure her spot.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Reeve asked, handing her phone back. “I mean, you’ve done more than enough around here. It’s about time I repaid the favor and gave you and hand.”

  “Isn’t that what you did last night?” Jules teased, and he laughed.

  “Outside the bedroom.” Reeve pulled her into his arms, and dropped a sizzling kiss on her lips. “Not that I’m not happy to help you out there, too… ”

  The kiss deepened, until Jules was lightheaded. “Well, now that you mention it… ” she began, when they finally came up for air. “I was looking on the Sojourn profile, and they have a ton of videos. See?” she clicked through and showed him. “Just short ones, guides to hotels and tourist attractions, but I could really use some more videos in my portfolio to show off my editing skills.”

  “You want to shoot something here?” Reeve asked. “I could take you on a tour of the vineyard, if you want.”

  “I was thinking we could do something with the wine,” Jules replied. “From grape to glass, show what it’s like behind the scenes, making the magic happen.”

  “Sure. But you know they’re not ripe just yet,” Reeve warned her.

  She grinned. “That’s where the magic of Hollywood comes in. We don’t have to taste the bad stuff!”

  * * *

  They spent the rest of the afternoon filming short clips about grape growing and winemaking. Reeve was a natural in front of the camera, and Jules was thrilled with all the great content they created.

  “And this is where the grapes are crushed,” he said, showing off the outbuilding filled with modern equipment.

  Jules looked around, a little disappointed. “I thought you stamped on them with your bare feet?” she asked, and Reeve laughed.

  “Maybe a hundred years ago, but the technology has come on a little since then.” He took the bunch of grapes they’d just picked from the vineyard, and showed how they were crushed and spun and sieved to separate out the juice.

  “Can’t I squish them?” Jules asked, eyeing the pulpy mess of grapes. “Just a little.”

  Reeve grinned. “I didn’t see you wanting to get your hands dirty when I was cutting back foliage and hoisting crates,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist.

  “That’s because I was busy capturing the expert in action.” Jules smiled up at him. “Making sure people can enjoy those rippling, sweaty muscles just as much as I do.”

  “Wait a minute, you said you weren’t going to post those pictures of me with my shirt off!” Reeve protested.

  “Did I?” Jules asked brightly. “I don’t recall.”

  She quickly distracted him with a kiss. Reeve chuckled against her mouth, like he knew exactly what she was doing, but he didn’t argue anymore. Instead, he drew her closer, stroking his tongue into her mouth and sliding his hands to tangle in her hair.

  Jules’ pulse raced. She arched up against him, loving the hot press of his body, and the way his muscles tensed under her roving palms. She was still learning his body, and loved to explore: the ticklish area along the side of his torso; sensitive spot just beneath his earlobe… She tasted him hungrily, heartbeat pounding as Reeve lifted her onto a nearby counter—and sent a bottle of wine crashing to the floor.

  Jules pulled back, panicking for a moment. “Tell me that bottle wasn’t valuable?”

  “That depends.” A voice came from the doorway behind her, and Jules turned to find an older man standing there, with salt-and-pepper blonde hair and unmistakable blue eyes. “What price can you put on a lifetime of hard work?”

  “I’d say the mortgage payment is a good price to start.” Reeve’s reply was ice-cold, and Jules knew in an instant who the stranger must be.

  “Hello, son.” Frank Hastings gave a smile. “Good to see you again.”

  10

  Reeve stared at his father, standing there in the doorway. Just a moment ago, he’d been wrapped up in Jules, happily teaching her all about the winemaking process and panting for another kiss, but in an instant, his good mood disappeared.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You’re supposed to be at Margo’s.”

  “I thought I’d take a trip back, and see how you’re running the place,” Frank replied. “The grapes need extra care at this time of year.”

  “I know.” Reeve replied tightly. He knew every damn thing about those grapes, his father had made sure of that.

  But Frank was already turning his attention to Jules. “Keeping busy, I see. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  “I’m Jules.” She hopped down from the counter and went to shake his hand before Reeve could stop her. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Uh-oh,” Frank pretended to wince. “That can’t be good.”

  Jules laughed. “Reeve’s been showing me the operation. I never knew so much went into making a bottle of wine. I just popped the cork and drank, I didn’t think about how it got there.”

  “Most people don’t, but trust me, you’d know if they were doing it wrong.” Frank smiled. “Take the soil, for example. I bet if I gave you a glass of wine made from biodynamic soil, you could taste it in the grape. At least compared to that mass-produced rubbish at the grocery store. Here, let me show you this gizmo I developed to track the acidity… ”

  Frank led Jules over to the other side of the outbuilding, already talking a mile a minute. Reeve took a tense breath. Jules was friendly with everyone. It was one of the things he admi
red about her—how outgoing she could be, setting a stranger at ease and making them feel like a friend in no time at all. Like she’d done with him. But now, he wished she could take a hint, and dial back the welcome wagon.

  “Jules, don’t you have to get going?” he interrupted. She looked confused. “Your portfolio,” he reminded her. “Isn’t it due tomorrow? You’ll need to finish all the videos we shot today.”

  “Oh, right!” Jules looked back and forth between him and Frank. “But I can stay a little longer—”

  “It’s OK.” Reeve cut her off. “I’ll call you.”

  He walked her back to her car, where Jules laid a hand on his arm. “Look, I know you and your dad have some things to talk about, but I’m here if you need anything,” she said softly, darting a look back to where Frank was heading down the hill. “I’m pretty good at being a buffer, if things get difficult. Or an alibi,” she added with a grin.

  But Reeve was too tense to joke. “Thanks,” he said, turning to go, but she caught his hand and pulled him back.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  He stared back, blank, and then Jules reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  Oh.

  Reeve let the sensation wash over him: the brush of her lips, the sweetness of her embrace. It was intoxicating, and in an instant, the rest of the world melted away, and there was nothing but the flames between them, burning hotter by the second.

  How did she do it?

  He marveled, pulling her closer. Her body swayed against his, all hot pressure and soft curves, and for a moment, he was tempted to just get in the car with her and drive like the other day; find a beach miles from the vineyard and all the baggage Frank had just brought back into his life.

  He could lose himself in her touch, and never come up for air.

  But he could only delay the inevitable for so long. Reeve reluctantly pulled away. “Let me handle Frank,” he said with a sigh. “And then I’m all yours. Whatever you want.”