The Rebound Pact (23 page)

“
Let’s get through our opening, and then we’ll talk.”

“Okay.” She agreed, but she didn’t
really
agree. She couldn’t force him to talk now, so she acquiesced to his suggestion. But she worried over his desire to hold off. That perhaps he wasn’t on the same page as her. Holden took a bit of urging to share his feelings, and she understood that. But the next two weeks were going to be torture while she waited for their conversation. She wanted to get it out in the open now. She was a planner.

Her career was set—at least as long as the bistro did well.

But her love life was another story.

She rested her head against his shoulder, content for now just to hold him.
Hoping that their conversation would end with her being able to hold him whenever she wanted.

Then again, if he didn’t want to talk about it now, was he brushing her off? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d read all the signs wrong.

Chapter Sixteen

H
olden watched Gabrielle drive away. He stood outside, hands shoved in his pockets for a long time before eventually deciding to take a walk through the vineyard. It was dark, and only the moon lit his way, but it was peaceful, calming and helped to clear his mind.

Tonight had
been different.

They’d connected on a deeper level. Not that they hadn’t before, but something had shifted. He’d felt it. She’d felt it.

And she wanted to talk about it.

If he wasn’t scared shitless, he might have confessed his feelings to her right then and there. But fear held him captive. Fear of rejection. Fear of her not sharing similar feelings. Fear that he wasn’t good enough. Fear Max wouldn’t accept it. Fear that
Holden could ruin it by just being who he was.

He stopped in the middle of the vines, stroking a velvety bunch of grapes and breathing in their tangy essence. Growing organic made it so his grapes smelled like real grapes, not grapes mixed with chemicals. The little globes weren’t fully grown yet, but they were getting there. By September he’d be ready to harvest these a
nd to make a special reserve pinot noir.

How could he show her that he wanted her, needed her, without having to talk to her about the future?

Lord, he was a copout.

He plucked a grape, sticking
it into his mouth and letting the bitter, unripe juice abuse his tongue.

Every time he was with her, it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her how much he…cared for her. How much he wished their rebound pact was something more
familiar. He had to surmise that perhaps that visit from Lacy this afternoon had affected him more than anything else.

Even though he knew the things she said were bullshit.

And then there was Max showing up. The looks he’d been giving Gabrielle and Holden, like he knew what was up. Why didn’t he just say something, put Holden out of his misery?

He turned around and headed back to his house.

With the clarity of a fine Riesling, he realized the problems he was having were purely mental. He was totally psyching himself out.

He knew what he wanted.

He just had to go after
her
.

The next week and a half were ridiculously busy. Gabrielle barely saw Holden except in passing
, and even then they both had their cells glued to their ears. They communicated through sticky notes, hand signals, and go-betweens—mainly Belinda—and the occasional sexy text, and stolen few hot moments in his office when no one was looking.

Between the walls finally going up in the bistro, and the equipment—nearly double in price for a rush order—arriv
ing, things were flying.

The restaurant was really coming along.
Beyond just getting the bistro ready, Holden had the added duty of the winery and collaborating with Belinda to make sure they had all the wines ready for opening night and beyond.

But
Gabrielle barely had a moment to breathe. She did catch herself staring at him for immeasurable amounts of time while he talked to Darren outside her office window. He’d glance back, see her through the window, and within minutes he’d be knocking on her door. Seconds after that, the blinds were closed and they’d be clinging to each other against her desk, the wall, on top of a chair.

Gabrielle had the menus printed, pleased as could be with the selection. She’d kept her original ideas, but also added in Ellen’s Caesar, Katherine’s spring rolls and
Derek’s spinach basil ravioli pomodoro. Her extremely talented sous-chefs were pleased as pinot punch to have a recipe of their own on the menu. Gabrielle remembered how it was being at La Peche and not having a single thing on the menu that was just hers. She’d made modifications to the selections, but nothing had truly been hers. She wanted her assistants to really feel like they were a part of Belle Ami Bistro, because they were. Without them, she wouldn’t be able to make opening night, nor the subsequent nights, a success.

After work each night, she went home, collapsed, and then had to rouse herself to spend time with her
father and brother, who obliged her several times in carry-out and reruns on television. Before Max flew back to Paris with a promise to return on opening night, he dragged her out to dinner in D.C., and she made sure to cover her face the whole time. Luckily, they didn’t run into anyone in her former circle or she would have died. Instead, she had dinner with a few of his colleagues. Being the vice-president of an international firm meant that Max had associates in every major city. He didn’t stop working either, which was maybe why he did indulge her on those few nights for carry-out. He needed a break too.

Unfortunately, that left no time for going over to Holden’s, hence the frenzied quickie
s within the winery walls—a huge risk given their work relationship. Luckily it didn’t appear that anyone had caught on.

She did make time to have a girl’s night out wi
th Melanie. They went shopping and for dinner. Melanie tried to get her to confess to what she felt was definitely
a thing
between her and Holden, but Gabrielle just couldn’t say anything. Not until she’d had a chance to talk to Holden, to define their relationship. She did say they’d kissed, even messed around a little. A major understatement, but enough of a confession to keep Melanie at bay. It wasn’t that she was afraid Melanie would judge her, more that she was afraid her best friend would be straight with her and tell her what Gabrielle had been thinking all along—sleeping with her boss was crazy. And incredible.

By the time the end of the week rolled around and opening night was in two days, Gabrielle thought she might collapse from exhaustion. Her mind was fried.
Eyes bleary. She wasn’t even sure she was wearing a matching pair of shoes. Time for a double-check. Good, matching black pumps.

“Coffee?”
Belinda handed her a large iced coffee from Starbucks.

“Double shot of espresso?”
Gabrielle asked.

“Yeah, sorry, they didn’t have the intravenous tube today.” Belinda smirked.

“Ha ha.” She drank greedily, waiting for the caffeine to kick in.

“Everything looks awesome,” Belinda said.

“I agree. I can’t believe we pulled this off.”

“It’s not over yet.”

“Reservations?”

“Our new hostess has filled the books for the next three weeks.”

“Excellent. She left space for the critics right?”

“Yup.
I can’t believe the foodie from
Bon Appetit
is coming.”

Gabrielle sucked down more of her coffee. “Even though she’s reviewed me before, I was pretty surprised
, too.”

She gazed out the front windows of the tasting room. It was a sunny day today, and blazing hot outside. Thank goodness for air conditioning. She could almost see the haze of heat waving gently in the breeze.

“I’m going to see if the construction workers have enough water,” she said. Setting down her coffee and clipboard on the counter she walked outside, feeling moist from the humidity almost immediately.

The
workers were putting the finishing touches on the roof and the stucco walls.

Holden turned from where he stood with Darren and Hank. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He looked hot—like
sweaty hot, and sexy hot.

She sighed and came to stand beside them. “How’s it going? Need some water?”

He grinned when she approached, and she watched his subtle shift of his hands like he wanted to reach out and touch her. “I could use a beer.”

She laughed. “I still think it’s funny that you drink beer.”

“Nothing better than a cold brew on a hot day.”

“Agreed.
Although I do like margaritas. Want me to grab you one?”

He glanced longingly down the road towards his manor house. No doubt thinking the same thing she was—the beers were there, and she’d have to go into his house to get one. And she would like nothing more than for him to follow her there.

“Nah. I’d better go for water. These next two days will be insane.”

“I
hear ya. Darren? Hank? Can I get you some water? What about your guys, do they need more?”

“No, thanks,” Hank said.

Darren shook his head. “The guys have giant coolers of water. Thanks so much for your offer.”

“Okay. I’ll bring you
a water, Holden.” She smiled at him, wishing she could say more, maybe kiss him before she walked away.

Before Hank or Darren started to look at her like she was a drooling idiot
, she hurried away to get Holden a cold bottle of water.

A little ache puls
ed in her heart. She missed not spending longer than a few stolen moments with him.

And she couldn’t wait for opening night. Then they could have that talk. The yearning look he gave her showed he missed her
, too, didn’t it?

When she returned with the bottle of water, Hank and Darren had gone closer to the building
, pointing at something and discussing it with one of the contract workers. Holden watched her every move like a hawk. The hungry look in his eyes had her skin tingling and she very nearly asked him if he had a moment to show her something inside. She wanted him to devour her. Wanted him to peel back the every layer of her clothing and savor her for the rest of the afternoon. She wanted to watch him undress, touch and lick every part of his body.

Their fingers brushed as she handed him the water
, sending sparks from his fingertips straight to her belly.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft, sultry. Not unlike the heated air that caressed her skin.

“You’re welcome.”

He twisted the top and took a long gulp. She watched
hungrily as his throat bobbed when he swallowed. She licked her lips, stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her thin white linen pants to keep from reaching out and touching him. Suddenly the metal disc choker necklace, with the geometric hammered together pieces in the shape of triangle pointing straight to her cleavage, felt suffocating. Sometimes suffering for the sake of fashion was not cool.

Holden’s eyes met hers and they simply stared for a few long, intense moments.
Sensual tension fairly seized the air and she found breathing more and more difficult.

“I want to show you something,” he said quietly, his words trailing over her sensitive parts so when she answered, it was almost a moan.

“Okay.”

He took her hand in his large grip and led her into the winery,
a cool blast of air coming out at them from his, instantly cooling her from the heat of the outside, but also making her nipples hard. They poked through her thin silk shirt, and the metal of her necklace felt cold on her chest. He opened the door to his office, shut it and locked it behind him, then whirled her around and crashed his mouth onto hers. It was frenzied, surprising, and thank goodness there was air conditioning, because when his tongue danced over hers she thought she’d burst into flames.