The Crush (Oregon Wine Country #1)(32)

Junie stared at Holly, speechless.

Keval zipped around his desk, tugging at Junie’s opposite elbow. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but business first. Junie, can you come here? I need to talk to you. About . . . your promo campaign.”

Holly frowned in disappointment. “Right now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Holly!” called Sam from across the room, muffling the current in his unending string of phone calls against his chest. “Can you come here a sec?”

Holly edged away. “We’ll talk later.”

When she was gone, Keval whispered, “Are we okay?”

“We’re—that is, I’m fine,” replied Junie in a monotone.

“Are you sure? You look kind of anemic, all of a sudden.” He brightened with sudden realization. “It’s because Manolo’s on his way, isn’t it? Tell me the truth, because I feel like love is in the air.” He pulled her farther away from listening ears and hissed, “Are you and Manolo—”

She pulled back. “What? No! No way! You’re getting us all wrong.”

“Because I know I tease a lot, but the day Sam brought us all to your tasting room, I thought I felt something between you two.”

“Me and Manolo? I am not into him! No way. Never. He is not my type.”

Keval scowled. “But I could have sworn—”

“Nothing is going on between us, okay? Manolo is not into me, and I am not into him. He works on my porch, that’s all. Other than that, all we do is talk on the phone.”

She turned toward the exit.

“That’s all?”

“That’s it. I’ll call you later. I just stopped to say hi.”

Keval propped a hand on his hip and cocked his head. “What do you talk about?”

She glanced around impatiently. She really had to get going.

“Food, mostly.”

“Food? You’ve got this freakin’ smoke show working on your house and all you talk about is about food?”

“Shh. Do we have to tell the whole world? You heard Holly. Cooking’s his thing.”

“Could he be more perfect?” Keval moaned.

Junie ignored that. “Look, I have to go.”

“Where’s our Lieutenant coming from? I left Friday to spend the weekend in the city and just got back this morning.”

“Reserves,” she muttered, walking backward. “Assembly. Virginia.”

“Junie, darling. You’re babbling.”

“He could be back any time—”

The hinges creaked on the old consortium door. Every conversation in the room trailed off midsentence. All eyes flew to the tall, uniformed officer with a patch that said SANTOS in all caps sewn onto his broad chest.

Sam and Manolo saluted each other.

Keval covered his eyes. “Tell me he’s wearing camo. I die!”

“Reel it in,” hissed Junie. But she couldn’t tear her eyes off him, either.

Peeking through his fingers, he muttered under his breath, “Girlfriend, is that your boo thang or not? Because if it’s not, I’m about to Stake. My. Claim.”

“Manny! Welcome back!” exclaimed Holly. While Junie watched, frozen, Holly flung herself at Manolo like there was way more between them than just an evening of wine and pizza.

Perky, fun-loving Holly. She was everything a lonely man, new in town, could want. Everything Junie wasn’t.

Holly’s headlock forced Manolo’s lanky torso almost horizontal. One broad hand still gripped his sagging duffel bag while the other awkwardly answered her embrace. His eyes widened when he saw Junie standing across the room, taking in the whole scene.





Chapter Eighteen


Manolo gave Holly a token pat in exchange for her strangulating hug, then wasted no time making a beeline across the room.

“Hey, Buttercup! Saw an idea for your tasting room when I was in Virginia.”

He had an urge to scoop her up in the same sort of tight grip he’d just escaped. But there was something about her expression that had him thrusting his hands into his camos in an attempt to keep them from reaching for her body. The fabric inside his pockets scratched against his skin. No wonder—it was like new. An officer was trained to stand erect, not with his fists jammed impotently into his pants.

He’d think about that later. Now, he plunged headlong into what he’d been looking forward to telling her during the entire, long flight west. “I was at this winery near Spotsylvania—”

“Our armed forces train at wineries? Why did no one tell me this before, and where do I sign up?” Keval interjected.

“Ah, this weekend was an exception.” But that was sensitive information.

He turned back to Junie. “I saw this live-edge wooden bar, and right away I thought of that slab of white oak you have out in your barn.”

Junie had yet to say so much as hello—not that she’d had much of a chance. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she did, something over Manolo’s shoulder caught her eye.

He spun around to see that Sam had lost interest in whatever it was that his client was saying, and Holly was glaring at him with her arms folded. Both of them were wearing scowls. Aw, Geez. Now what? Manolo returned his attention to Junie. Whatever was eating Sam and Holly could wait. She was the one he’d been thinking of all weekend, on the other side of the country.