Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(13)

“Why not?”

“It’s just family, isn’t it?”

“You’re practically family, Henry. And I’m inviting you. I’m surprised my mom didn’t already.”

“She did.”

“There, see?” She nudged me with her elbow. “You’re coming. It’s settled.”

“You know, April once mentioned you could be a bossy know-it-all. I didn’t believe her.”

She put her nose in the air. “I’m the big sister. I get to be bossy sometimes.”

“You’re not my big sister.”

“True,” she said. “Although it is my house. That should count for something. Come on.”

“I will think about your invitation,” I told her.

“Oh, you’re one of those guys, huh?” she asked as we reached her parents’ front porch.

I climbed the steps next to her. “What guys?”

“One of those guys who can’t give in to a woman.” She faced me in front of the door and poked my chest, her expression playful.

With my hands safely clenched inside my pockets, I looked down at her and fought every male instinct in my body, the ones that knew exactly what to do when you walked a pretty girl onto her front porch at night, and her face glowed faintly in the dark, her long, gossamer hair was dusted with snowflakes, and her warm, soft lips were right fucking there, so close all you’d have to do was lean forward and you’d know what they felt like on yours.

“I can give in to a woman,” I said quietly.

The smile slid off her face, and her mouth opened slightly.

“Goodnight, Sylvia.” Quickly, before I could do something I’d regret, I hustled down the steps and started out on the path toward the winery again. I didn’t hear the Sawyers’ front door open or close, so I assumed she stood there for a bit, watching me walk through the snowy dark, but I didn’t turn around and look.

Fuck yes, I could give in to a woman.

What I couldn’t give in to was myself.





That night, I dreamt about her.

We were tasting wine in the cellar, but she was naked, and she let me pour the cold wine over her skin and lick it off. At four A.M., I woke up with a massive erection that refused to go away. I tossed and turned for another hour, then I gave up and slid my hand down inside my boxer briefs. Maybe it would get her out of my head.

As I stroked myself, I imagined my warm tongue running over her throat, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. I heard her sighs and moans echoing off the stone walls. I felt her fingers fisting in my hair, her legs wrapping around my head, her body going rigid with tension. I made her come just like that, the wine dripping off her body as she pulsed against my tongue, and I groaned as my own orgasm made my cock throb inside my fist.

But I shouldn’t have done it. I felt terrible about it. Because now when I looked at her, all I’d be able to think about was her naked body on the stone floor.

There was no way I was going to her family dinner tonight.

To make sure I wouldn’t even be tempted, I wore my grubbiest jeans and my ugliest flannel shirt with the most holes to work, the one my ex had always begged me to throw out. I didn’t shave, and I threw a cap on my head rather than comb my hair.

At the winery, I did grunt work and heavy lifting all day long, ensuring that I’d work up a sweat. I was by myself, since I’d given my assistant Mariela the week off, and the tasting room was closed for the week, so no one would care if I smelled bad.

Around six o’clock, I was outside stacking new bins on the crush pad when I heard someone call my name. Surprised that anyone would be out here at this hour in the frigid dark, I walked around to the front of the winery.

Sylvia stood near the tasting room door, shivering in the cold without a fucking coat on, arms wrapped around herself. “Hey!” she called, spotting me. “I was looking for you!”

I jogged toward her, unzipping my jacket. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“Yes, but my God, it’s freezing!” She hopped back and forth from one foot to another.

Quickly I took off my Carhartt and held it out for her to slip her arms in. “Put this on. Don’t argue.”

She shrugged it on, and we hurried inside the tasting room with her swimming in my giant coat. After shutting the door behind us, I switched on every single light—I did not trust myself alone in the dark with her.

“Sheesh!” Sylvia blew on her hands. “It’s even colder than last night! I can’t feel my face! What is it, like ten below?”

“It’s actually about twenty-five, but it’s still too cold to be running around without a coat.” I set my hat and gloves on a high-top table and ran a hand through my matted hair. “What were you doing out there?”

“Looking for you. We’re all at my parents’ for dinner and someone asked where you were. I volunteered to come get you.”

“Without a coat?”

“The house is roasting—I’ve been cooking all day and I was so hot. And don’t change the subject.” She fished a hand out of the sleeve of my jacket and scolded me with one finger. “You said you’d come to dinner.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I said I’d think about it.”

“And did you?”