The Perfect Someday (A standalone novel ~ Book three in The Mathews Family) (19 page)

Before she had a chance to contemplate why on earth he was so absorbed in her hair, Vincent turned
abruptly and walked away. In one smooth angry motion, he opened the door.

Tracy stepped inside.

Suppressing any sign of discomfort, Vincent announced pleasantly through a stiff jaw, “I’ll be back in un minuto to take you on a tour.”

“
Thank you,” she heard Lisa say before he shut the door.

Tracy
circled her shoulders, straightening the kinks in her stance one vertebrae at a time. Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow calming breath, forcing herself to relax. Her thoughts drowned in a storm of grey debris somewhere off in space.

The sound of
Tess clearing her throat captured her attention. “What?”

“What
was that all about?”

“Nothing,” she gru
mbled rolling her eyes. “You!” Tracy flipped her finger at Lisa. “You should’ve warned me about these two men.”

“There’s not much to say about Vincent. He’s about as sweet and harmless as your favorite teddy bear.” Pure innocence
sugared her tone.

“Teddy bear
my ass! Are you kidding me? More like a…a…T-Rex or a flesh eating disease! The man hates me! He won’t even talk to me. Spitting nails would be more accurate.”

“I admit, maybe I should’ve
mentioned Antonio. He is a bit of a hound-dog. But honestly, Tracy, you’re way too smart to fall for his shit, so I didn’t bother. He’s basically harmless other than the fact that he simply loves women…a little too much.”

Tess’ eyes widened in concern. “Lisa, is there any
thing else you need to tell her?”

“
It’s nothing she can’t handle,” Lisa assured Tess. “He’s had several engagements, but they usually wise up far before the date is set. He just has a very bad flirting habit.”

Tracy acknowledged with a nod. “Yeah, I got his number, but that one…” She cast a sharp finger at the door as Vincent strolled
toward them carrying two pairs of yellow muck boots. “He is an unredeemable jerk!”

A doubtful grin tucked into the curve of Lisa’s
full lips as Vincent opened the door. He handed Lisa and Tess a pair of rubber boots. “The bikes are right around the corner.”

Tracy scowled
. “What about me? Where are my boots?”

“I only have the two pair. Scusi.”
He gave a modest shrug.

She ignored hi
s apology, suspecting there were a dozen more boots where those came from. Miffed by his snub, she folded her arms over her chest. “I want to go. I haven’t seen the grounds yet.”

Vincent dared to drag
a slow gaze down her body, pausing at her four inch black pumps. “I don’t think you’ll be able to ride in those.”

No way in hell was she about to give him
the privilege of spending the day schmoozing her mom.

“
I’ll go barefoot,” she grumbled in exasperation.

Following Tess out the door,
Lisa snickered at Tracy’s stubborn insistence.

“You’re going to freeze.
” Vincent whispered over her shoulder, his breath rustling her hair.

Tracy’s eyes narrowed in reply, sh
ooting daggers at him.

Three bikes parked
at the east end of the castle in front of Vincent’s office, two singles and a two-seater. All three of them took off their shoes. Vincent disappeared to store them in his office.

Tracy gripped
the handles of a single-seater, backing the bike away from the metal stand. Realizing her dress fit similar to a pencil skirt, she planted her eyes on the ground beneath her bare feet.
How the hell am I gonna get on?
Refusing to be defeated, she gave a hard kick to the kickstand and started pinching at the fabric, hoisting up the dress near her thighs.

“Why don’t you ride with Vincent, sweetheart. That way you won’t have to pedal.
Lisa and I will take the singles. Is that alright with you, Vincent?”

“Si`, Mrs. Clemmins.”

“Please, call me Tess.”

Their casual dialog slithered into a dense fog of her mind. Tess pried the handlebars from Tracy’s grasp. Another small breeze sifted through her hair, the scent of him still lingered. Tracy’s head tilted, pondering the sweet, musky scent.
There’s something about his breath
.

Vincent pulled the t
wo-seater alongside her and brought her out of her daze. His dark lashes spiked upon his cheekbones in heavy crescent shapes as he slowly scanned down the length of her body to her bare feet. His penetrating study of each curve sent a rush of desire curling through her like the scorch of a branding iron.

Nerves set in. Tracy
apprehensively rubbed her chilly fingertips on the warmth of her blushing earlobe, damning herself for reveling in the slightest thing regarding Vincent. His eyes lifted, skimming over her body until reaching her face, locking on the evidence of her nervous habit. Their eyes connected in a burning stare.

Vincent eased
closer reaching for her waist.

Letting go of her lobe, she jerked, swiftly crossing her hand in front of her midriff
to block his hands.

Something happened in that instant.
He staggered back a step. A stunned expression ghosted over Vincent like a wave of darkness rolling up on a long shallow beach. She sensed his sorrow, heavy and deep. Reflective sadness wove into the fine lines of his forehead. An aching weight gathered in her chest. Vincent turned away from her prying eyes, reaching for the bike.

Tracy rested her hand on his arm, urging him to face her. “
Sorry, I didn’t mean to slap at you. I’ve been warding off your brother the last few days.”

Tiny muscles of his face tensed as his jaw clamped shut.
Her comment only seemed to irritate him further. Vincent shook his head vehemently, expelling a long harsh breath. “I am nothing like my brother.”

No matter how flustered and
aggravated he made her feel over the last week, Tracy never intended to hurt his feelings. Seeing the pain in his eyes stabbed at her. She motioned toward the hem on her slim-fitting dress. “I could actually use some help.”

There was no change in his expression, but the severe h
arshness faded from his handsome face. Vincent propped the bike against his hip for steadiness. Tracy placed her hands on his shoulders for support, the contours of solid muscles noticeable beneath his heavy jacket. He reached inside her cardigan, gripping around her waist and lifting her with ease.

Her breath caught as she felt
the strength of his long fingers. He squeezed a ticklish spot at her ribs and she released a shaky giggle. Goosebumps chased up her spine, firing off pings of delight throughout her central nervous system.

A lopsided sexy
grin lifted at the corner of his mouth, looking full and sexy, making her knees go weak. She pointed her toes, searching for correct placement on the aluminum tubing between the pedals, while her hands examined his well-defined arms and shoulders.

Relishing the feel of masculinity
beneath her palms, she wondered for a second what he’d look like, what he’d feel like under the bulky layers of clothing. Overcome with the urge to touch his skin, her hands traveled back and forth across his shoulders, struggling not to slip the pads of her fingers into the collar of his shirt.

Graspin
g hold of his jacket, Tracy curled her fingers into the sherpa fleece lining, wiggling and scooting her bottom for the perfect adjustment on the seat. Managing a comfortable riding position, she glanced up at Vincent. His eyes burned of their own illumination, and a red hue dusted the bridge of his nose.

His gaze
remained unblinking, blessing her with the sexiest smirk she’s ever seen.

Vincent covered his hand over hers,
the rough texture stilling her blind groping of his chest. Laughter rumbling beneath her palm when he offered quietly, “If this is what’s permissible when you ride in the back, maybe we should switch places.” 

Her eyes widened realizing
she had been petting his chest. Tracy pressed her lips, biting back a grin. A rush of color ascended on her cheeks.

“I…scusi…I
was…you’re so hard. I mean, you know…not
hard
.” Unable to locate the shut off valve for the embarrassing babble flowing from her mouth like volcanic eruption, she rambled on like a skit on late night TV. “I mean…you must go to the gym.”

Her mom and Lisa inched their bicycles
in reverse, one toe at a time, comically peering from behind the outline of Vincent’s impressive build. Their eyes and mouths popped wide open, watching as she spontaneously combusted.

Grabbing hold of the handles, he kicked a leg over
, straddling the bar. “I work out.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder, watching for her reaction before adding, “Rigorously.”

He faced forward and began to pedal. Embarrassment flooded over her.

Lisa raised the back of her hand to her forehead mimicking a damsel in distress, mouthing
Oh, you’re so hard
.

Tra
cy’s face wrinkled at her own self-display of pathetic vulnerability. She shrugged, lifting the corners of her sweater over her face, attempting to disappear from further humiliation.

Lisa mercifully remained silent
.

They rode
in silence up a shallow incline. After a few nerve-wracking minutes of wondering how she would ever face him again, awkwardness subsided. Tracy relaxed, captivated by the serenity of the majestic view. The cool air bit at her cheeks, sitting sideways on the seat with her toes perched on the center bar. She scooted forward taking shelter behind Vincent. Her breathing fell into rhythm with his as they climbed to the top of the hill. 

The vista opened wide, showing off a spectacular view of the estate. Acre upon acre of grapevines stretched out over the valley, following every rise and dip in the landscape. The tidy rows meandered lazily, creeping over the sweeping valley until reaching the steepness of the hills.

Vi
ncent stopped at the crest waiting for Tess and Lisa to make their way leisurely up the hill. “The countryside is dormant now, but work continues in the pruning of the vines, ploughing of the fields and prepping for spring.”

“It’s beautiful
. I can’t imagine what it looks like in summer and fall.” Wonder coated her words. Drawing a big breath through her nose, she took in the winter air.

Tracy
noticed him glancing at her cherry-red polish as she stretched her toes to the ground, sliding off the seat. She held back a grin watching his jaw fall slack as his gaze drifted to her legs.

His voice sounded a bit strained stating,
“The vines will turn green soon. In summer this countryside will come alive with lush fruits.”

Tracy wrapped her cardig
an tightly around herself, rubbing her hands together for friction. She pointed toward the last ridge of plantings, where the valley met with the mountain. “Is that where your property ends? Or does it keep going on the other side of the hillside?”

Sunshine gleamed along the silky strands of his wavy layers as he shook his head, indicating the land stopped at the hillside.
Vincent unzipped his work jacket and the V-neck collar of his heavy knit navy-blue sweater revealed a white t-shirt beneath. Her lips parted as she took in the sun kissed skin at his throat gaining a five o’clock shadow. A tingling sensation gathered in her lower abdomen.

“The land, it tells the stories of our family. Ups and downs, focusing on perfection, yet we never manage to climb
over the highest hurdles.”

Heat on her cheeks burned, tingling
in the winter air. “Perfection is overrated. Especially when it comes to family. ‘All of our little imperfections are what makes us so lovable.’ That’s what my dad used to say.”

“
My father used to say, ‘There is no need to travel for miles attempting to get around the mountains, we simply turn, bending with the land just as it is given to us.’” A genuine easygoing smile tugged at his closed mouth. “Your parents, they are divorced?”

“No, my dad die
d a few years ago. Heart attack,” she explained quietly.

“Mine too
,” he said with a small sound of apology.

Vincent s
hrugged one shoulder then the other, easing out of his jacket to offer her the warmth. She peered at the jacket and chewed on the inside of her cheek, tempted by its cozy plaid flannel lining.

“Come on, I know you
are cold.”

He held it open, grinning as if it were a peace offering.
Tracy’s need for warmth outweighed her stubborn pride. She slipped into the jacket, pulling her arms through the long sleeves that nearly dangled to her thighs. The scent of him, sweet and oaky, swirled around her. A current of blistering heat washed over her, wondering what his skin would taste like on her tongue.