Love in the Vineyard (Tavonesi #7)(34)

ADRIAN THREW HIS GEAR BAG ONTO THE seat of his jeep. He had no idea where to find Natasha, and she wasn’t answering her phone. By the time he’d returned to the garden the previous afternoon, she’d left for the day. Early. He had a damned good idea why.

He’d read her employee file, but it had only listed a phone number and a post office box number. And though he wanted to find her, needed to find her, reading her file was as much snooping as he felt right doing. Even that much had required a twenty-minute mental argument with himself until the part of him that had to see her, had to explain about Blair—that wanted to tell Natasha that nothing about his feelings had changed just because she worked for him—had won out. His father was a world-class intelligence agent. Maybe snooping ran in the family after all.

He’d driven to the Rock Wren Café early that morning. Twice. Sat there for an hour the second time. There’d been plenty of customers in and out of the café, going about their lives and enjoying coffees and pastries on a brilliant Saturday. But no Natasha. He’d had the urge to question customers that appeared to be regulars—do you know a woman with dark hair and ivory skin and a smile that seems shy at first but then lights up from the inside? Have you seen her? Do you know her? Do you know where she lives?

He had it bad.

And until he talked with Natasha, the gnawing feeling in his gut wasn’t going to go away.

And now he had to get in gear and hurry over to Alex’s place. His cousin had volunteered him to chase baseballs for the boys that Alex and his teammate Scotty mentored. They’d also invited a few of the boys from one of the local schools. Adrian had reminded Alex that he knew nothing about baseball, but Alex had only grinned and said he’d be part of the fun. But the fist in Adrian’s gut didn’t leave much room for fun.

Coco ran up to the Jeep and slid into the seat beside him. “I’m coming with you.”

“You do remember I’m headed to a baseball game? A pickup game with young boys?”

Coco hadn’t given up on her plan to have Alex and other players from the team pose for her fundraising calendar. Zoe had tried to talk sense into her, to make her see that posing for a small-town calendar wasn’t something world-class athletes would do, especially since it required removing most, if not all, of their clothing. But Coco wouldn’t be deterred. And that morning she’d seemed especially keen on making sure Adrian attended the pickup game.

“I’m not going to get Alex and his friends to pose for you, Coco.”

“But the calendar is a brilliant idea. Why can’t anyone see that?”

“No.”

“You hold a hard line, brother of mine. If you had any conception of the lengths I’ve gone to behind the scenes to help you, you’d help me out.”

“What do you mean behind the scenes?” Coco’s impulsive help often led to disasters.

“That’d be telling, and then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Coco, what have you done?”

She pulled out her cellphone and spent the rest of the drive typing messages and ignoring him.

He drove up the back lane to Trovare, avoiding the castle that served as home to his cousins and aunt. If Aunt Thea was home, he’d be cornered for hours. And he wasn’t in any mood for polite conversation.

When they reached the gravel parking area near the field Alex had mowed for the game, Coco jumped out of the Jeep. “Good luck.” She shot him a saucy grin. “I’m off to find Alana.”

When Coco used that tone, he knew she was up to mischief. But she abandoned him to the ball field and the boys.

Alana’s husband, Matt, played shortstop for the Giants. Likely Matt was also on Coco’s hit list, along with his sister Zoe’s fiancé, Cody. God help him in the face of Coco and Alana. One Tavonesi woman was tough to deter, but two? Matt was a goner. He’d likely end up being Mr. April whether he thought it was a good idea or not.

The field wasn’t manicured, but Alex had laid down chalk lines and put in the bases. Alex had explained that he’d had a grid of finely meshed wire laid under it to prevent the gophers from munching the grass and pocking the field with holes. How a little mammal as cute as a gopher could wreak such havoc—Adrian wouldn’t have believed they could have had he not dealt with them in his own vineyard and gardens. A pair of nesting barn owls had helped out immensely. The gophers were the owls’ favorite treat.

But a baseball field with holes in the turf could mean sprained ankles or worse. Same with the polo field at his place. The wire meshing and protective fencing had been costly, but not as costly as the pain and expense of a horse’s broken leg or an injured player.

Exclusion Alex had called the strategy he used to deal with the gophers. Keep the little beasts away from what you don’t want harmed and give over to them a portion of your land and let them live there, he’d said. Keep out negative influences you don’t want by giving them a land of their own. Maybe it would work as a life strategy. Adrian spent little time thinking about negative influences. He preferred to charge ahead and believe the best about people. His older brother Rafe had once accused him of being na?ve. But looking on the rosy side of life seemed like an even better strategy than exclusion. Except right now nothing about life seemed very rosy.

How could one woman that he’d had three dates with turn his world on its ear? He had no answer. But his time with Natasha had scrambled his emotions and his brain. And forget about his libido. It was one hundred percent focused on the one woman eluding him.