Heidi Rice - Back in His Bed - Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks! / Unfinished Business with the Duke / How to Win the Dating War

She was making a mess of this, and in another minute or two she’d end up making a fool of herself. She grabbed her clothes and put them on quickly. “Look, um, I really need to get to the winery.”

“Brenna…” Jack started.

She backed toward the door, hating the feeling of retreat. Lord, I’m such a wuss. But she desperately needed some distance to make sense of this situation and figure out what she was going to say to him. Without babbling next time. “We’ll talk later, okay? There’s, um, plenty of food and stuff in the fridge. Just make yourself at home. Bye.”

Jack called her name as she bolted, the exasperation in his voice very clear even from a distance.

But retreat—no matter how cowardly or graceless—really was the best option right now. Otherwise she was going to make a big fool of herself over him.

Again.

Jack was tempted to go after Brenna, but the scaredrabbit look in her eyes kept him standing still. No need to back her into a corner right now.

He’d been awake less than an hour and his day was already turning surreal. Brenna certainly had a way of spinning his world off its axis. He’d forgotten what it was like, but oddly enough he didn’t feel half as frustrated as he figured he should. Instead, dealing with Brenna seemed to have blown the cobwebs out of his brain, energizing him.

Her retreat this morning—whatever had triggered it—had left his body still burning for her. But now that he wasn’t thinking only with his libido, he realized Bren might have a point. The events of the past few days had his head spinning, too, and maybe he should decide what, exactly, his next plan would be.

Amante Verano wouldn’t be his problem much longer, but what about Bren?

He really hadn’t been awake long enough for his brain to be working properly. He needed coffee. And a shower and a shave.

Then he’d spend some time in Max’s office, as he’d originally planned.

That would give Bren time to calm down and give him time to decide what he was going to do about her.

She was going to ruin this entire batch of wine, and it would be all Jack’s fault. Brenna checked her numbers again, willing them to make sense. It would be nice if something made sense today.

In the safety of her office, she’d hoped to find the answers she needed. Three hours later she still didn’t have a clear idea of what she wanted, much less what she thought was the right thing to do. The last couple of days with Jack had awakened so many of her old feelings, but new ones were fighting for recognition as well. On the one hand, it seemed as if they were simply picking up where they’d left off, but at the same time it felt different. Like a new start.

But it probably wasn’t. This was just an interlude, a hiatus from real life, her mind kept telling her. The idea of starting again, starting over, was just wishful thinking on her part.

Of course none of this was helping her get any work done. For the umpteenth time the scribbles on the paper in front of her swam out of focus and Jack’s blue eyes filled her mind. “Damn it.” The curse bounced off the fermentation tanks and echoed around the room. This was ridiculous. She glanced over her shoulder, checking the door to the fermentation room was shut firmly, and gave in to her frustration.

Childishly, she flung the notebook to the floor and stomped on it. Then she jumped on it. It didn’t help anything, but she felt a tiny bit better after the outburst. She blew her breath out in a huff and picked up the crumpled notebook to smooth out the pages.

“Focus, Brenna, focus,” she muttered.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Jack’s amused voice spun her around, and she found him leaning against the door and biting back a smile. His hands were in the back pockets of his battered jeans, causing the gray T-shirt he wore to strain over his broad shoulders. From the scuffed work boots to the lock of black hair that fell over his forehead the entire effect was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

This was the Jack she remembered.

She cleared her throat and reached for the pencil stuck through her ponytail. “Just making some notes.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “With your feet?”

So he’d seen her little temper tantrum. Great. As if it wasn’t awkward enough right this second, she also got to add “caught acting like a three-year-old” to her list of cringe-worthy topics of conversation. “It’s traditional,” she bluffed. “Secret winemaking superstitions handed down through the generations. It’s essential to the wine mojo.”

Jack nodded sagely. “I see. You don’t stomp the grapes anymore, so you stomp the office supplies instead. Interesting.”

She straightened her spine. “I don’t question your business methods…”

His hands came up in appeasement. “Not questioning your methods at all.”

She held the notebook close to her chest like a shield, and wrapped her hands tightly around the edges to steady them. “Not to sound, um, rude, but what brings you down here?”

“A sudden interest in deceptively simple Chardonnays?”

There was that smile. The one that usually meant he was thinking about…Her knees wobbled a little, but she gripped the edges of her notebook tighter and forcefully steadied herself. “That isn’t Chardonnay.”

“Huh? Well, I’m not really—”

“Interested. I know.” She sighed, causing Jack to laugh.

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.

“How about I promise not to tell you what’s actually in those tanks, and you promise not to ramble on about stocks or square footage or zoning laws?”

“Deal.”

That was easy. Too little, too late, but nice nonetheless. Jack hadn’t moved from his casual lean, but her stress level began to increase with his continued presence and increasingly interested look. Why was he here? What was he after? “Jack? Was there something you needed from me?”

“Not really. You said this would only take a couple of hours, and when you didn’t come back I came to check everything was okay.”

“Sometimes things don’t go according to plan. You know how it is.” There was an understatement. She didn’t even have a plan to deviate from. “Everything okay at the house? Did you find everything you need?”

Jack looked at her oddly. “I got a little bit of work done. I’ve been going through some of Max’s things, and I need to know if there’s anything specific you want.”

Her heart twinged a little. With everything Jack had stirred up in her recently, she hadn’t thought about Max actually being gone in days. “Probably nothing that you want. A couple of photos, Max’s sketchbook, the decanter set in the office. Why don’t you pack up whatever you want to take, and I’ll deal with the rest?”

“All I need is some of Max’s paperwork, a few old files.”

“Whatever, Jack. Really.” Her voice broke a little. It hurt to think of Max’s things being divvyed up, but the underlying thought of Jack taking those things when he left confirmed her earlier thoughts.

He was beside her in an instant, his face concerned and his hand gentle on her arm. “Are you okay? I’d forgotten this might be tough on you—as close as you and Max were.”

Her eyes burned, but she took a deep breath. “How is it not tough for you ?”

Jack’s face clouded briefly. “Max and I had our problems. Our differences. You know that. I’m not saying it doesn’t bother me, but I know it’s a lot worse for you.” He sighed. “I understand, really. If you’d like to wait a while before…There’s no real rush, Bren.”

“No. It’s—it’s…” She paused and pulled herself together. “I’m okay. We can do this.” Closure all the way around. She patted his hand absently as she spoke, but Jack’s hand closed over hers and squeezed. She looked up in surprise.