Page 43 of Conflict
ARIANA COMESback from the bathroom, her eyes wide. She tugs my arm. “Alyssa… I just met the second prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”
“Second to me?” Ollie asks, his voice teasing.
When Ariana’s dreamy gaze returns to him with a shy smile, I have to give it to him; the man is good at his job.
She leans over the bar, her empty glass in hand. “Ollie, I’ve changed my mind. You’re not pretty. You’reexceptional,” she breathes, “especially when you refill my glass.”
He barks out a laugh and does just what she’s inadvertently requested. “You’re a woman after my own heart, Ari. Beautiful, funny, and you love a good, clear wine.”
Ari grins at his use of the term. “We’re practically two peas in a pod. Or should we be two grapes on the vine?”
And now I am starting wonder if I’ve created a wino, Australian-loving monster. Not that there is anything wrong with that, of course. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’d make for a great comic book.
I’m about to tell my sister that it’s time to get some food in her wine-filled stomach when the deep rumble of sexy laughter sounds from across the room. I stop in my tracks, because that laugh? It’s one I’ve been dreaming of for months. There’s no way, right? There are nearly half a million people in Atlanta. What are the odds I run into the one man I’ve been running from—and secretly pining for—for the better half of a year?
The odds are obviously in my favor. Because when my eyes wander to the source of the sound, all breath leaves my body. There he is, in the flesh, looking more gorgeous than I remember. My lady bits want me to run toward him, throw myself at him, and ask for a repeat performance. My head wants me to turn and flee. And my heart? My heart’s just freaking confused as to why it’s hammering when I’m not doing a lick of cardio.
Mr. Wellsley’s threats enter my brain and my head wins out.
“Alyssa, do you know that man?” my sister asks, saying something else that doesn’t quite register.
I spout off some bullshit, hoping it’s enough to make her understand what I’m about to do next.
“We’ve gotta run, Ollie,” I say quickly, thankful we’ve been paying by the drink instead of leaving a tab open.
“So soon, ladies,” he pouts, and Ari giggles next to me.
I elbow her, and then her eyes widen as she looks backs me.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh. My. God.” she chants, reminding me of Janice fromFriends—without the annoying Jersey accent. It’s apparently her turn to be panicked. “It’shim.”
She doesn’t have to say anything else. I know exactly who she means, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’s currently following as Shane pushes his way through the crowd, I’d wait here and throw Ari to the wolves, so to speak. If any man can get her to break her engagement, it’s the mystery man from the hotel last winter.
Except, I both love my sister and am terrified of the way my heart is pounding as Shane gets closer, so I spin on my heels—proverbially, thanking the heavens I decided to wear flats—grab Ari’s hand, and start toward the opposite side of the room, hoping like hell there’s an exit there.
“Follow me,” I hear just as Ollie takes my free hand. “I don’t know why you’re running from those two men, but the way you were headed would only leave you pinned down.”
Ariana’s still chanting out her oh-my-Gods the whole time Ollie takes us through the wine-processing area until we reach a back door and spill out into what I can only presume is the employee parking lot.
I place my hands on his cheeks and kiss him square on the lips. He laughs when I pull back. “You are the best, Ollie!” I tell him.
“Alyssa!” Ari calls out, and I turn to see her staring into the open back door.
A loud commotion hits my ears. Her eyes are panicked.
“What are we going to do? I can’t let him find me. I want him to find me. Oh my God.”
And here we go again.
The beeping of a car sounds, and Ollie clears his throat. He’s standing next to a sleek black SUV, holding the driver’s door open. A broad, bright, white smile spreads over his tan face. “Ladies, perks of flirting with the owner of this fine establishment. He’ll be your own personal uber when men are chasing after you.”
Ariana casts one last glance toward the open door as if she’s unsure if she wants to stay or go. I feel her pain, wondering the same thing. Part of me wants Shane to catch me. Being this close to him without touching him is torture I can easily stop, yet my heart is terrified of how desperately I still want him after one hot gaze across a bar.
And then I hear his voice calling my name and it sounds far too close.
“Ari, let’s go,” I hiss, and it’s like I’ve woken her.
We race to Ollie’s car. Ari hops in the back as I dart around the front and into the passenger’s side. My new favorite Australian winery owner reverses and peels out of the parking lot just as two tall, incredibly well-built, handsome men, who could be twins, push out of the back door, only to stare after the SUV.
