Moonlight and Roses. Jackie BraunЧитать онлайн книгу.
know, you’re hell on a man’s ego,” Zack drawled, snorting out a laugh afterward.
“Sorry. I just…I just don’t think that we should—”
“What?” He cocked one eyebrow in challenge. “Be friendly? I’m not asking you out, Jaye.” Thinking of Mira and all of the pain and disillusionment she’d caused, he added with great feeling, “Believe me, I’m not interested.”
“And you have the nerve to say I’m hell on the ego,” she replied dryly.
He closed his eyes, rubbed them and sighed. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”
“Bad day?”
Zack shook his head. “Just a long one. A long week, for that matter.” Now the weekend yawned before him. More than likely he would spend it in his office. Better there than alone in a hotel room with nothing to do. “Well, I’ll leave you to your late lunch. See you Monday.”
He was turning to go when Jaye said, “Friday is pizza night.”
He angled back. “Pardon?”
“It’s Geneva’s night off. She’s my housekeeper. She plays bridge with her friends on Fridays, so I make pizza.”
“From scratch?” He was having a hard time picturing Jaye puttering around in a kitchen. She didn’t appear to be the domestic sort, given her affinity for men’s shirts and steel-toed work boots.
She shrugged. “It’s not like it’s rocket science. Besides, I buy the dough already made from a pizzeria in Sutton’s Bay. Saves me time.”
“I see.” He motioned with one hand. “So, are you extending an invitation to me or are you just sharing information?”
His ego took another beating when she took her time answering. “I’m extending an invitation, one coworker to another.”
He decided not to point out that technically he was her boss. “Gee, glad we have that straight.”
Jaye tossed the uneaten portion of her granola bar into the trash. “Give me five minutes to finish up here.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Jaye didn’t know what had possessed her to invite Zack to dinner, and at her house no less. She didn’t want him in her home, invading more of her space. But there was no use wasting time regretting it now. The deed was done, and unless she planned to uninvite him, which she didn’t, she was going to be spending the next couple of hours in his company.
The idea wasn’t completely without appeal. She told herself that was because they had winemaking in common, which meant at the very least the conversation would be easy and interesting. Besides, what was that saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Zack wasn’t her enemy exactly, but under the circumstances, neither was he her friend.
Downstairs, the tasting room had closed a couple of hours earlier and all of the employees had long since gone home. Stemmed glasses had been washed and put up, the hardwood surface of the large circular bar had been wiped down, and any opened bottles of wine properly stored. The security lights glowed softly, giving the large space with its vaulted ceiling and exposed oak beams a more intimate feel.
“Zack?” she called out.
“Over here.” He stepped from behind a display of bottles that had been stacked on their sides to keep the corks moist.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“My mom told me never to show up at someone’s home empty-handed, so I’m looking for a little something to go with our dinner.” He flashed an engaging grin that, along with the reference to his mother, made him appear far younger than the midthirties she knew him to be.
Jaye pointed to the next shelf over. “How about the house red?”
“It’s good.” He scratched his chin. “But I was thinking of something a little more…elegant.”
“To go with pizza?”
Zack shrugged. “Is there a rule against that?”
“I guess not.”
“Good. Besides, I feel like celebrating.”
“Let me guess. Ownership of the vineyard?” Her tone was tight.
To her surprise he shook his head. “I was thinking more along the lines of freedom.”
His lips twisted on the last word, as if it had left a foul taste in his mouth. Jaye didn’t press him, even though the cryptic answer certainly made her curious. Freedom from what? Or the more intriguing question: Freedom from whom?
It was none of her business, though. So she asked instead, “If it’s a celebration you have in mind, then how about our 2004 pinot noir?”
“Ah. Now you’re talking.”
He grinned again. This time there was nothing remotely boyish about the way he looked. He was all man, fully grown and way too easy on the eyes. Jaye swallowed. Friend? Enemy? For a moment her traitorous libido seemed interested in drafting an entirely different classification. She chalked it up to long work days and a virtually nonexistent social life, especially when it came to members of the opposite sex.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” she told him, and hastily retreated, happy to stand alone in the frigid moonlight while her pulse returned to normal.
Jaye was leaning against his car when Zack finished locking up the building’s main doors. Unless she had appointments that took her away from the vineyard during the day, he’d noted that she walked the short distance from the house to work.
“Car’s unlocked,” he called. “I should have thought to give you the keys so you could start it up and get the heater going.”
The air held an extra bite tonight, but she didn’t look cold. In fact, her jacket remained unzipped.
“That’s okay. I was just enjoying the peace.”
“It’s like this at night back home, too,” he commented as he drew closer.
“Like what?”
He motioned with the bottle of wine to encompass the dark countryside beyond the lighted parking lot. “Isolated and quiet. It’s easy to forget the rest of the world exists beyond the vineyard once the visitors go home for the day and the sun sets.”
“My dad used to claim I did that even when it was light outside.”
“A bit of a homebody?” Zack asked as he joined her on the passenger side of the car.
“I date.” She sounded slightly defensive.
“I don’t believe I said otherwise, Jaye.” He opened her door. The basic courtesy that was so common on the dates she claimed to go on had her brows lifting. Still, she said nothing as she folded those long legs of hers inside his Mercedes. He wasn’t sure how, but she managed to look graceful even wearing oversize cotton, abused denim and a pair of muddy boots. He took a moment to thank providence for the rubber floor mats he’d installed just the week before.
“It’s just that I work a lot of hours,” she was saying.
“Same here.”
“It’s hard to get out.”
“At times.” Mira, of course, had enjoyed spending time with him at Holland. He frowned.
“Not everyone understands the kind of commitment a vineyard requires.”
“No. Not everyone does,” he agreed. “Of course, there’s a fine line between commitment and obsession.” He moved to close the door, but she put a hand out to stop him.
“Which are you, Zack? Committed or obsessed?”
“I’m…driven,” he replied,