Love in the Vineyard (Tavonesi #7)(22)

It wasn’t Tyler.

“How does a hike at nine thirty on Saturday sound?”

Adrian.

“This Saturday?” She leaned against the redwood seat topping the grow box and toyed with the handle of her spade. She’d practiced telling Adrian no in front of her mirror that morning.

“Unless there’s another Saturday between now and then,” he said in a jovial tone. “We can go up Mount Saint Helena. You can see for miles from the top.”

God, she loved the sound of his voice. His Italian accent made English sound like a whole new language. But the timbre of his velvet-rich tones touched places in her that it shouldn’t.

“Or how about today?” he asked, surprising her.

“I’m working.”

Evidently he wasn’t. He probably didn’t have a job. He probably spent his time moving money around and watching his bank account grow. Or did rich people have people who did that for them too?

“So am I,” he said. “But I’d change my plans.”

“I can’t do that.”

“So we’re back to nine thirty on Saturday. I’ll pick you up. That is, if you’re up for a hike.”

She caved in to the part of her that wanted to see him again. The possibly not-so-smart part of her. And she’d like to see this new place she lived from a bird’s-eye view.

“Let’s meet at the same café.”

“We’re keeping to your rules, are we?” he said in a teasing tone.

“Yes.”

She heard a noise in the background. It sounded like geese calling to one another—the sound they made communicating when flying. No matter what she was doing, when geese flew overhead, she’d stop and admire them. It had become her new Sonoma ritual.

“Your choice. See you at nine thirty Saturday,” he said over the squawking. “Wear hiking shoes. We’re going to the top. Ciao.”

She muttered goodbye.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket. She didn’t own hiking shoes—she’d never been on a hike in her life. She turned the spade in her hand, digging idly. So much for her intention to tell Adrian she wasn’t going up Mount Saint Helena with him. Or anywhere else.

A loud honking had her looking up as a formation of geese flew over her head. Apparently there were a lot of the birds in Sonoma. She saluted them and went back to planting the jalape?o seeds that would spice up the midsummer meals at Casa del Sole.





Chapter Seven



SHE SHOULD’VE CANCELED THE DATE. BUT after dropping Tyler off at the school for an all-day field trip, Natasha couldn’t come up with a single excuse for not going to Mount Saint Helena and enjoying the spring-kissed day. At least not one she was going to let stop her.

Adrian met her at the café as planned. On the drive from the café to the park, he told her that she’d inspired him to try planting a pollinator garden, that he’d always wanted to plant natives that would draw bees and butterflies. A cousin of his had tried it with great success, he reported. He hesitated and then shook his head and she knew he’d edited his comment. He hadn’t mentioned where his cousin’s garden was located. In the gap of time and words, her chest tightened. The rules she’d hoped would ease her way suddenly began to close in around her. She wished she didn’t need to rely on deception in order to feel safe. Deception might serve her, but it also hindered. Her nerves flared and she nattered on about regional natives—Dutchman’s pipes, salvias, penstemons and her favorite, monkey flower. As she fought back the urge to tell him about her job, about her garden at the Casa, her mind went blank.

Filling the awkward silence, he started talking about books that he liked. And he asked plenty of questions about the stories they discussed. Some she could answer, most she couldn’t. She’d listened to audiobooks, but she was more up to date on films. So she managed to steer the conversation to movies. Their exchange began to flow more easily, and like waves lapping up against a shore, the rhythmic energy pulled her forward, luring her past her long-held defenses. To her delight, she discovered that he was a Star Wars fan.

“I always loved Yoda,” Adrian said with a playful wink. “In another life I’d like for him to adopt me.” He reached into his glove compartment and handed her a map. “How much farther to the turnoff?”

Natasha squinted at the map and wished that the Jeep he’d picked her up in had GPS. He’d forgotten about her saying she needed glasses. Just as well.

“Maybe five or six more miles,” she said, wishing she weren’t winging it.

They hadn’t traveled half a mile before the huge sign for the state park appeared.

“Our lucky day—it’s closer than it looked,” Adrian said as he turned into the parking lot.

Natasha fumbled with the seat belt but couldn’t release it and jump out in time to prevent Adrian from coming around to open the car door.

Maybe she wanted him to help her. Maybe her hands read a subconscious message and fumbled on purpose. Her mind might be obeying her cautions, but her body wanted contact. But when his fingers closed around hers, the contact revved up more than sexual impulses—his touch sent longing flooding through her in a slow, deliberate path.

She’d never allowed herself the luxury of longing. At least not for anything other than a perfect childhood for Tyler. Longing frightened her, set her off course. And desire? That was definitely off-course territory. So what the heck was she doing in a state park with Adrian?