Page 36 of The Charmer's Gambit
He nodded. “Good, that was my hope.” He pulled open the door of an oversized pickup truck. “Hop on in, darlin’.”
“Okay, now I’m officially in the South.” I accepted his hand to help me up into the passenger seat. “Let me guess,” I continued when he climbed in beside me. “Country music is next?”
He waggled his brows. “Worried I might covert the city girl in you?”
“Not a chance,” I replied as I pulled on my seat belt.
“So confident,” he murmured. The engine roared to life, and with it came the soft sound of a strumming guitar accompanied by a deep male voice. Definitely a country drawl, but not thefolksy tune I expected. It was rather pleasant. Not that I would ever admit that out loud.
Will fastened his belt as well and put the car in drive. “There’s a cooler of bottled water in the back in case you need something to drink. You’ll thank me later.”
“I take it we’re not going to the office to review the final proposal.”
“Nope, we’ll do that on the plane tomorrow, or Saturday.”
“In France,” I added. Because I’d figured out that’s where we were headed first.
He grinned. “Glad to know you learned how to focus, darlin’.”
Oh, I didn’t know about that. The way his forearms flexed as he handled the car was one hell of a distraction, as were those illegal jeans. But it was his voice that fried my brain. He started by humming along to the music, which I enjoyed more than I cared to admit, and then he started to sing. Not loudly, but softly, and in perfect pitch. My lips parted and refused to close, and no amount of admiring the scenery around us could distract me from the deep tenor of his voice.
I’d developed these expectations in my mind about him, and Will continued to break them at every turn. His last name and wealth influenced my initial assessment, something one might refer to as stereotyping, but in my experience, the men in influential circles tended to act the same. Except for Will. Dressed down in his T-shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, and hat, he resembled an ordinary man. And this truck wasn’t anything expensive or flashy, just a convenient vehicle created to master the bumpy road we were now driving down. Fields crowded us on both sides, but a ranch-style home stood at the end of the gravel road.
A man dressed in overalls and a floppy hat walked out onto the porch and waved as Will parked beside another truck. “That’s Joe. He maintains this vineyard,” he explained beforehopping out and meeting me by my door. His hand was warm in mine as he helped me step down onto the uneven driveway. My ankle didn’t protest when I put my weight on it, which I took as a good sign.
“Howdy, Mershano,” the older man welcomed as he rounded the truck bed.
“Hi, Joe,” Will replied. “This is Rachel.”
“Ah, lawyer lady, yep.” He held out his hand, and I shook it.
“I prefer Rachel over lawyer lady, please,” I told him with a smile.
“Ya prove to be as helpful as Mershano says ya are, and I’ll call ya whatever ya want,” was his reply.
“Careful, Joe. She’ll take you up on that.”
I didn’t correct him because he was right. “So what are we doing?”
“Prunin’ and hedgin’,” Joe replied before fixing hazel eyes on Will. “You gonna help me with some of the nets while she does that?”
“Yep, but I need to show her how to prune first.”
Joe nodded. “Good luck with that. Those purdy hands tell me she’s not gonna be too great at it.”
I put my “purdy hands”on my hips. “Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover.”
Will draped his arm over my shoulders and gave me a half hug. “I’m not worried, darlin’.” He let me go to retrieve some gloves and two pairs of scissor-like gardening tools from the truck bed. “Pruner,” he explained, catching my scrutiny. He attached them to his belt via some crafty method I didn’t catch, then tucked the gloves behind his back. “You’ll see.”
“You’re the boss,” I told him, knowing it would make him grin. It did.
“Still waitin’ for you to call me ‘sir.’?”
“You’ll be waiting a long time.”
His eyes danced over me in a lazy fashion. “Hmm, no, I don’t think I’ll need to wait too much longer.” He opened the passenger door again. “Almost forgot your hat, darlin’.” The item in his hand when he turned around was not part of the earlier bag of clothes and not something I noticed on the back seat.
“You can’t be serious.”
