Page 8 of Love on the Vine
I sent him my train information last night and then . . . radio silence.
“This is a bad idea. He’s probably hoping I won’t come,” I’d moaned to Callie with one foot on the train platform. It was too late to abandon my plan now. My return ticket wasn’t until August, and Callie’s roommate—a sour-faced pastry apprentice from Connecticut—wouldn’t be pleased if I kept camping out on their couch.
“No way,” she argued. “He probably sprained his hand from getting himself off in the shower thinking of you. That’s why he didn’t respond.”
“Oh, please!” I laughed. “Remember, he’s only ever seen me in a bulky Christmas sweater.”
Callie shook her head. “It’s time to lean into your inner sex goddess this summer, Liv. You can do it. Make me proud.”
I looked down at the ivory silk camisole and shorts I was wearing. I’d chosen the outfit in hopes of making a more memorable impression on Jake than I had last year. After hesitating over wearing a lacy bra or going braless, I figured,I’m in France, right?and had stuffed the bra into my suitcase. Except now, with this heat, my top was starting to cling to me in a way that may have crossed the line from sexy to lewd, but it was too hot to cover myself with the cardigan I’d worn in the train.
Just as I was considering buying another lukewarm soda from the vending machine, a dark gray Land Rover with tinted windows pulled up in front of me. Jake stepped out of the driver’s side, and my pulse raced at the sight of the tousled hair and handsome features I’d been fantasizing about for months. Damn, he was even hotter than I remembered.
“Olivia, I’m sorry,” he said, hurrying over to me. I held my breath when his large hand grazed over my side, and he leaned over to greet me the French way by lightly touching his cheeks to mine in quick succession.
Cool, cool, Liv. Don’t make too much out of it. Everyone does that here.Unfortunately, my nipples hadn’t gotten the message because they were on high alert.
“I had an emergency with a client that I had to drive to the airport in Nice. I tried calling you, but it went directly to voicemail,” Jake explained, lifting my suitcase into the trunk as my eyes drank him in like I’d been crawling through a desert, and he was a sparkling oasis. His dark T-shirt clung to his broad back and narrow waist, revealing the corded muscles of his strong arms. His jeans hugged his ass in just the right way to hint at the way they flexed as he walked.
“I don’t have a phone,” I managed to say at last, tearing my eyes away from him.
“You don’t have a phone?” He frowned. “I thought girls your age were surgically attached to them.”
Girls my age?Great. “Well, I’m always misplacing mine. I think I left it at my friend’s apartment in Paris.”
“We can get you another one while you’re here. Or you can invite your friend down. There’s more than enough room.”
“Really?” I hadn’t even been here a day and he was already offering to have my friends over. Was this guy for real?
He held the passenger door open for me and I climbed in. The car smelled like new leather with a hint of his cologne—fresh and clean, a hint of bergamot and cedar. I inhaled deeply and sighed as I watched him through the tinted glass as he crossed over to the driver’s side with a languid confidence that was kind of hypnotic. God, he was sexy.
Even his smallest movements turned me on apparently, because when he slid his long tan fingers over the stick shift and eased it into position my entire body throbbed. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his hand. Why didn’t we have more manual cars in the States?
“So remind me—do you speak French?” he asked, leaning his arm against my seat as he backed out of the parking space.
“Not really,” I responded weakly. “I tried doing some Duolingo, but it’s tough to learn on your own.”
“You’ll have lots of time to practice.”
I buckled my seat belt, acutely aware of how it emphasized my bralessness. Between the effect Jake had on me and the air-conditioning, my nipples were rock hard, standing out like torpedoes against the thin material of my top. Jake didn’t seem to notice though. I don’t think he even looked at me once as we made our way up winding roads lined with tall cypress and olive trees.
My self-consciousness ebbed away as I got lost in the magnificent landscape. Rolling down the window, I inhaled the fresh air heady with the scent of pine needles, cut flowers, and a hint of the briny sea. It was heavenly, and I closed my eyes, not caring if I looked like a cocker spaniel with its head out the window.
“Is the air-conditioning too much?” Jake asked.
I pulled my head back inside and caught him staring at my legs. A little thrill of satisfaction went through me. “No, I just wanted to breathe everything in.”
He nodded and kept his eyes riveted to the road. As we rounded the next hill, I could barely contain my excitement when I glimpsed a sliver of turquoise water in the distance. “Is that the Mediterranean? I mean, of course it is.” I chuckled nervously. “I guess it’s been a long day, huh?”
Jake winced. “My fault. We’ll be in Moustiers soon. That’s the village up there.” He pointed to the next hill that seemed to emerge from the sea. At its peak perched a high church tower surrounded by a collection of terracotta roofs and a snaking medieval wall. It all looked as if it had been carved out of the stones themselves.
“This is so surreal,” I said, glancing at Jake’s serious profile. “I feel like I’m in a Van Gogh painting—one of those gorgeous explosions of color of his—but I can feel the warm breeze in the trees and smell the lavender on the hills.”
“That’s very poetic for a future corporate attorney. Glad you like it.” The firm line of his mouth curved up slightly, and his dimple popped.
“How could I not? It’s breathtaking.” At that instant another flash of brilliant sea green was visible through the pines. “Or maybe you don’t notice it anymore. That must be the danger of being surrounded by so much beauty. You forget to pay attention to it.”
I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but his eyebrows had drawn together. “You know, I think you’re right. I do take it for granted. It’s nice to see it through someone else’s eyes.”
