I leaned against the bar, dropping my head into my hands. What was I doing? I had no clue. I was in over my head to the point I was already drowning, and I’d been here all of what, four days? “Damn it!” I’d found several boxes inside the winery storage room before he’d arrived. While I’d found the contract from Malcolm, the copy I had wasn’t signed. It was very lucrative, so much so that I’d almost considered it for about two seconds. I yanked it from the box, ripping it in half then half again.
No one was going to take this away from me. I’d meant what I’d said. No one.
Seconds later, I felt a presence, the stench of Mr. Stocker’s offensive cologne lingering in my nostrils.
“Ms. Dayne. May I have a word with you?”
Who was the asshole kidding? He’d returned?
I reacted without thinking.
“I told you to leave my property. I meant what I said.” I spun around, driving my fist against a hard jaw. I had no idea I had the strength to pitch a muscular giant to the floor. But I could and I did.
And it wasn’t the clown I’d spent two hours with but the man I was falling hard for even if Mr. Grinch didn’t want me to.
I’d attacked the wrong man, punching him hard enough I was certain I’d broke his nose. Jake had fallen onto his butt on the floor, the thud hard enough I gasped. Then he acted as if he’d passed out from the force used. Oh, no. No. This wasn’t happening.
When he remained still on his back, his head lolled to the side, my heart fluttered. What had I done?
“Oh, no. Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” I scrambled forward, dropping to my knees. “Jake. Are you okay? I didn’t know it was you.” When he didn’t say anything, I pressed my hand against his face first, shifting two fingers to his neck. Thank God, he had a pulse. Was it thready? No. No. No. “Jake. Come on. Wake up for me.” I leaned over even further.
Jake didn’t bother opening his eyes before tossing me over onto my back, pressing the full weight of his body on top of mine. Without hesitation, he dragged my arms over my head, wrapping his huge hand around both wrists. “Whoa. Who were you expecting, baby? The devil himself? Don’t you knowattacking people isn’t in your best interest? Do I need to give you another spanking as a reminder?”
“Maybe I was after the shit I just went through.”
“What do you think you’re doing, Cinnamon Girl? Trying to kill me?”
“No, just the wine expert.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Nice girls don’t beat up wine consultants.”
“Who said I was a nice girl?” I asked, fighting his hold again. When I managed to get an arm free, I tried to push him off, but he was having none of it, yanking my arm back over my head. This time, he dug his fingers into my skin.
“You know. I was already almost beaten to death today.”
“Oh, yeah. By whom?”
“My brother and his buddies. Ouch.”
“Poor baby,” I cooed. “Wait a minute. You played hockey today?” I was surprised I was so excited.
“Yeah, if you can call it that. Did anyone ever tell you that you have an incredible right jab?”
“Oh, all the time. You see what I do to guys I can’t stand.”
“I thought I was included in that bunch.”
“Eh, you’re growing on me.” The laugh that bubbled to the surface felt good and seeing the twinkle in his eyes, my heart fluttered as it had done after he’d left early that morning. “What the hell were you doing disguising your voice? I could have really done some damage.”
“Sweetheart, you’re a girl. You couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Them’s fighting words.”
He grinned like a kid and I had to believe his change in demeanor had everything to do with returning to the rink. “I was trying to make you smile.”
“You always make me smile, even if you’re a pain in the ass. And why do I have a feeling there’s more?”
“Hmmm… You’re the one who’s incorrigible. I came here to ask you on a date but if you’re too busy…”