Heidi Rice - Back in His Bed

He looked pointedly at her swimsuit. “Interesting choice of attire, then.”

Brenna rolled her eyes at him as she reached for her wine glass. “I’ve had a long day,” she said as she stepped around the pots of hellebores and sank into the bubbling hot tub with a sigh. She arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you mind?”

He knew he shouldn’t, but he took the opening anyway. “Not at all.” He’d dropped his towel and taken the seat opposite her in the hot water before Brenna could stop sputtering. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Brenna closed her eyes and sank lower, until the water covered her shoulders. “Not tonight, Jack.”

She didn’t realize the vineyard was the last thing on his mind at the moment. “Why not?”

“Because I really don’t want to fight with you again. It’s exhausting, and I’m exhausted enough already.”

“Who said we had to fight?”

She opened her eyes, giving him a “get real” look. “We haven’t had a civilized conversation in years. You think we’ll succeed tonight? Under these circumstances?”

Brenna had a point, but the soft, husky voice had him mesmerized. Even her snappy comebacks lacked any real sarcasm or heat. It boded well. He leaned back, mirroring her position, and shrugged. “So far, so good.”

She laughed softly. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

He was actually suffering from déjà vu at the moment. Brenna, quiet if not quite relaxed, the steam rising in wisps around her face, her legs stretched out on the bench only inches from his. His body reacted to the memories, wanting to pull her into his lap…

“How are things with the hotels? Max said you were planning on expanding to the east coast?”

Brenna’s question snapped him back to the present. “Everything is going well. I’m headed to New York next week to finalize the deal.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Max would be pleased. He always wanted a hotel in Manhattan.”

“And all this time I thought he just wanted a winery.” He winked at her, enjoying the look of surprise that crossed her face at the gesture.

“Well, he got that. But you know how Max was always thinking ahead to the next thing.”

“Garrett men aren’t satisfied easily.” He met her eyes evenly, and held the stare until her cheeks flushed and she broke away.

Brenna’s eyes traveled over his chest and shoulders hungrily, before she snapped them back up to his face and coughed awkwardly. “They’re also hard to please sometimes,” she retorted, but she did it with a smile on her face so he couldn’t take it as an attack.

Brenna closed her eyes again and sank a little deeper into the water. Her legs brushed against his, and she moved them away quickly. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, and he watched the tension slowly begin to ease from her body. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm and casual again. “We got the last of those grapes in today. It was a really nice yield, and they made gorgeous juice.”

Small talk seemed oddly easy at the moment. It certainly beat fighting, and his hopes that this night might turn out to be interesting grew. “Only you would call grape juice gorgeous.”

She smiled. “Gorgeous juice makes gorgeous wine. And that makes me very happy indeed.”

“What else makes you happy, Bren?” The question came out of nowhere, shocking him almost as much as her.

She sighed tiredly. “Are we going to fight now?”

He couldn’t stop the small smile her question caused, but Brenna’s eyes were still closed and she couldn’t see it. “Not unless you start it. It’s a simple question.”

Her shoulders sagged. “Fine. Let’s see.” She thought for a long moment, floating her hands on the water’s surface and humming. “Good grapes and good wine.”

Did she ever think about anything else? “Besides wine, Bren.”

Brenna pursed her lips in mock annoyance. “Um…Walks through the vineyard right at sunset—when it’s peaceful and cool, but not dark yet.”

They’d been on several memorable sunset walks together, but he didn’t think Brenna would appreciate the reminder at the moment.

“Brownie fudge ice cream. And…And…Can I say good wine again?”

“That’s not very creative.”

That caused her eyes to open again. “What can I say? I have simple needs. What about you?”

He had to think. “Board meetings where no one brings me a disaster to fix. Fast cars. Single-malt Scotch.”

Brenna shook her head. “That’s a strange list.”

“Well, we all can’t be blissful just hanging out at Amante Verano making good wine.” He shrugged.

He’d said it off-hand, but Brenna’s chin dropped and her teeth worried her bottom lip. He knew that look, too, so he waited to see what she was working up the courage to say.

“I’m very sorry, Jack.”

An apology? He’d expected a volley about the sale of the winery, or even a statement about Max, designed to play on his sense of duty to the vineyard. Not an apology. What was she angling for? “What for, Bren?”

“A lot of things. But mainly for keeping you away from here.”

He snorted, and Brenna looked at him in question. “Brenna, if I’d had any desire to come out here, your presence wouldn’t have stopped me.”

Confusion wrinkled her forehead. “But you used to love it here—you were out here all the time. It was just after…after, you know, the divorce that you quit coming. I know that was because of me, and I am sorry for that.”

Interesting. There were many ways he could respond, but something about Brenna’s honesty brought out the same in him. “I don’t like wine, I don’t like grapes, and I certainly don’t have any interest in agriculture of any sort. Think about it—how often did I come out here in the two years after Max bought the property?”

“Maybe twice that I know of…”

He leaned forward and held her gaze. “That’s because you were in school and I hadn’t met you yet. Then I came out with Max for your graduation…”

Brenna’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Are you saying you only came out here to see me that summer?”

He nodded, enjoying the waves of shock that moved over her face as she re-aligned her thought processes. “And after we were over there was no reason for me to come back.”

BRENNA struggled to make sense of his words. The chirp of crickets and the bubbles of the tub’s jets covered the sound of her rough, shallow breaths as the ramifications of his simple statement hit home. “I always assumed it was me keeping you away.”

Jack shrugged a muscular shoulder, drawing her attention back to his body. Thankfully, much of it was submerged, and no longer quite the magnet for her eyes. Jack in nothing but swim trunks brought back too many memories, and her brain simply couldn’t balance both important conversation and gawking at Jack’s body at the same time. She struggled to focus on what Jack was saying.

“Why? You knew good and well by the time we got divorced that there wasn’t much attraction out here for me.”

She’d been the attraction before. That explained some things…“But you didn’t even come to see Max after the divorce.”

“Staying under the same roof with your ex—especially when your former mother-in-law is sleeping with your father—isn’t exactly a tourist attraction.” A wry smile crossed his face. “No matter how nice the scenery.”

Okay, she knew that. She’d even considered moving back into her old house at the time, only Max and her mom had talked her out of it.

Jack’s legs were so close to hers under the bubbling water they rubbed against hers as he shifted position. The brief contact sent a zing through her. But she couldn’t hold eye contact, because the smoldering look there wreaked havoc on her insides. If she kept her eyes on his forehead it was easier to concentrate, and she’d be able to keep up with this conversation.