Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(38)

“It was an apology, not a gift,” I explained. “He felt bad about what he said the other day at the pool.”

“He should. That was a dick thing to say.” Ellie swirled her wine again. “But I still think he doth protest too much. I think he is interested in you, and he was just trying to play it cool.”

“He said he was mad at himself and took it out on me.”

“Mad at himself for what?”

“Making a move on me, I guess. He thinks I’m too young. And he doesn’t date anyway.”

“He announced all those things?”

I shrugged. “Kind of.”

She nodded shrewdly. “More protesting too much. This dude is into you. He kiss you again last night?”

“No,” I said quickly, dropping my eyes to the marble counter. “He didn’t kiss me.”

“But he did something.”

“Sort of. Maybe.”

“What?”

I peeked up at her. “He—he kind of, uh, penetrated my mouth with his beer bottle.”

Ellie nearly choked on her wine. “What?”

“He stuck his beer bottle in my mouth,” I said, enunciating more clearly.

Unfortunately, right at that moment, the door from the hallway swung open, and Gianni Lupo strode in like he owned the place. “He stuck his what in your mouth?”

“What are you doing here?” Ellie snapped. “This is the private part of the house. Family only.”

“Good thing your parents just told me I’m family, and that’s why they hope I’ll accept their job offer.” He gave Ellie one of his cocky grins and turned his attention to me. “How are you, Winifred? Long time, no see.”

I hadn’t seen him since graduation, but he’d hardly changed. Same wavy, floppy dark hair that somehow looked styled and messy at the same time, same blue eyes that girls used to sigh over, same finely chiseled jaw, only now it held a thin layer of scruff. His nose was slightly crooked—if I recalled correctly, it had been broken by one of his brothers in a fight. But it took nothing away from his looks or his confidence in them.

I smiled back. “I’m good, Gianni. How’ve you been?”

“I can’t complain.”

“Can you leave?” Ellie asked.

“In a minute,” he said, picking up Ellie’s glass and tasting her wine. “But first I want to hear the story about the beer bottle.”

Furious, Ellie took her glass back and moved it out of his reach. “No. This is a private conversation, asshole.”

Gianni looked at me. “I don’t know about these work conditions. I might have to document this as harassment.”

“So are you taking the job?” I asked.

“I’m thinking about it. I love the concept, and the setting is perfect. I’d have input on finishing the kitchen, which I like. And hiring staff, which is important because I like things done a certain way.” He grinned again, glancing at Ellie. “And I love the idea of collaborating on the menu with the winemakers here. They’re so friendly.”

Ellie glared at him.

“Except maybe this one.” He jerked a thumb at her. “Why’s she always so mean?”

I smiled. “I think you bring it out in her.”

“You’d think she was the one who took seven pies in the face.”

“Eight,” said Ellie. “I threw eight pies in your face. Because you dunked me like fifty times in that stupid tank.”

“I know.” He chuckled. “I couldn’t resist. You looked so dry and comfortable sitting up there in your little crown and that Cherry Princess sash over your bathing suit. I spent every dollar I had on your booth, and then I borrowed some more. I was in debt for months. You should’ve been flattered.”

“They put my picture on the front page of the news looking all soggy and gross, thanks to you.”

“But just think of all the money you raised for our senior class,” he said. “We probably wouldn’t have been able to have that chocolate fountain at the Prom if it wasn’t for me. Anyway, thanks for inviting me to stay and hear the rest of the story, but I have to get going. Another time.”

“Bye, Gianni,” I said.

As he moved past a stone-faced Ellie, he planted a kiss on her cheek before she had a chance to duck.

“Ew, don’t!” She rubbed her cheek as if trying to erase the imprint of his lips.

While she was distracted, he stole another sip of her wine. “You know what? That’s really good. I’m excited about this job.”

She pointed at the door. “Get out and stay out!”

When we were alone again, she took a big gulp of her wine and poured some more. “I’m going to kill my parents.”

“Come on, he’s not that bad.”

“He is. You have no idea.”

“What the hell happened in that closet anyway? Are you ever going to tell me?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“You two were in there for a full seven minutes, and you’re telling me nothing happened? He didn’t even kiss you?”

“Nope. He didn’t kiss me.” She took another drink of her wine. “We spent most of those seven minutes fighting. Now let’s talk about this beer bottle situation.”