Tangled Vines Page 7

  In a mangled heap of sweaty limbs, we lay next to one another on the small couch. Our breathing steadies and our eyes meet. “Wow,” I mutter breathlessly.

  “Fucking yeah! ‘Wow’ is an understatement,” Owen chuckles, planting a sweet kiss to my cheek.

  Before we even have a minute to discuss anything, a knock at the door makes us jump to get dressed.

  “One minute,” Owen calls out, handing me my skirt.

  He quickly removes the condom, wraps it in some tissues and tosses it in the garbage pail beside my desk. Watching him pull his jeans over his firm ass makes my mouth water all over again. Owen catches me staring and pulls me close to him. Cupping my jaw, he angles my face up to his. “Later. We can do that,” he tips his head to the couch, “again and again all you want. But for now, we have to get this presentation together so you can nail the shit out of this deal. Okay?” He softly presses his lips against mine as he adds, “Then I’ll nail the shit out of you all you want.”

  “You know I can hear you two?” A male voice jokes from the other side of the door.

  “Who is that?” I ask, straightening my shirt.

  “You’ll see,” is the only answer I get before Owen opens the door. “Hey man,” Owen shakes our visitor’s hand, ushering him into the room. It’s obvious they know each other and suddenly I feel like an invader in my own office. An office in which I just had crazy monkey sex.

  “Elle,” Owen puts his hand on my lower back, pulling me to his side. “This is my friend Nick. Nick, this is Elle.” On the mention of my name, Owen shoots Nick a stern look.

  “You mean–?” Nick begins to ask, before Owen cuts him off.

  Nodding, Owen answers, “Yes, this is Elle. The business associate I’ve told you about.” His tone is suddenly too formal, putting me on alert.

  “Business associate?” I eye him suspiciously.

  Barely able to contain his laughter, Nick extends his hand to me. “Believe me business associate is better than what he usually calls you.” That remark earns Nick an elbow to the ribs while it earns Owen a nasty side-eye from me.

  “All right, now that we have introductions out of the way....” Owen shoots daggers at his friend and I can’t help but laugh at their boyish banter. Truth be told, if Owen heard half of the things I called him to my friends, he’d be shooting daggers my way, too.

  “Oh, yeah,” Nick suddenly remembers why he’s here. Walking over to the coffee table, Nick unrolls a blueprint and smiles up at both Owen and me expectantly.

  “Now, we can’t use this plan exactly, but I thought with a few tweaks and changes, we might be able to pull something off in time for your meeting.” Nick points out a few details on his plan he thinks we can keep, noting the most attention-grabbing aspects as he talks me through the whole thing. With a stupid grin on my face, I listen intently, letting the vision Vincent had for the place come to life.

  “Oh, crap,” Nick stops in the middle of explaining how the atrium would come together. “I left a few things in my truck. I’ll be right back,” he explains as he walks out of the office.

  The whole time Nick was going over his plans, Owen was at the desk scouring through business reports and bank statements. That’s where he still is, completely oblivious to the fact that Nick is no longer in the room.

  “Hey,” I say against his cheek, pressing a kiss there. He peels his eyes away from the computer as if he’s just realized I’m in the room. “Thanks for this, for calling in help.”

  Owen pulls me on his lap, brushing back my hair and tucking it behind me ear. “Anytime, besides, this is a great plan for the vineyard. We’ve got a great company here already. A wedding venue is the perfect addition.”

  There’s a youthful enthusiasm in his voice, suggesting that my original impressions of Owen, a poor, uneducated, bastard farmer-boy, were so far misplaced, they’re almost comical now.

  “So do you just happen to keep random architects on retainer in case of emergencies like this one?” I joke.

  “Nick’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. He just happens to own a construction company. So no, I don’t keep him on retainer,” Owen explains, giving me a playful look as he does so. “Well, his father owns the company, but Nick’s always been better at the design end. I knew he’d be a help.”

  “His plan is perfect,” I smile, letting some of the stress fall away. “But what about the numbers?”

  “We’re more than fine, Elle,” Owen answers as Nick reenters. “Now go finish up the plans. Make it the place you’ve always dreamed it could be and I’ll crunch some more figures. With any luck, we’ll have a fail-safe, kick-ass presentation by the time morning rolls around.” He kisses the tip of my nose, shooing me off his lap.

  All three of us work through the night, dozing off sometime around two. When the sun rises, I find myself nuzzled against Owen on the same couch we defiled. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I find Nick passed out on the table where his plans lay.

  Warmth unfurls in my belly thinking about how beautiful it was being with Owen last night.

  Taking a deep breath and scanning the mess that has become my office, I smile knowing Owen was right. We came up with one hell of a business proposition.

  Knowing that we’ll have to present in five hours, I rouse Owen from sleep, running my fingers through his hair. “Morning, sunshine,” I greet him with a sweet kiss.

  “Hey,” he yawns and then panics. “What time is it?” He shoots up from the couch, knocking into the coffee table as he does. The loud bang wakes Nick up, too.

  “Relax,” I try to calm him. “It’s only six. We still have plenty of time to get ready.”

  Nick rolls up his plans and hands them to me. “Here you go.” He smiles triumphantly before saying, “Good luck this morning.”

  “Oh, shit!” Owen calls out as he sinks back into the couch. “A suit. I need a suit.”

  “Hey, we’ve got time,” I explain, having no idea where this inner sense of calmness is coming from. “Go home. Shower. Put on your best suit and a killer game face. I’m going to do the same and we’ll meet back here at ten. The meeting isn’t until eleven. We got this,” I reassure him.

  He smiles and nods at me before we all walk out to the parking lot. As we all pull away in our own cars, I have a feeling that changes, big changes, are on the horizon – and I don’t mean just where the vineyard is concerned.

  “These plans,” Beverly Elliot, our new potential investor, scours through my reports, “they’re very thorough.” She looks over at me appraisingly.

  “But these,” she says in a much more appreciative voice. Pulling the blue prints Nick and Elle worked on all night in front of her, it’s impossible not to notice how her face lights up. “These, Ms. Blackwell, are stunning. The seamless integration of the vineyard in every little detail is just breathtaking. I’m really impressed.” Elle’s face beams with pride, a foreign and not completely unwelcome feeling blooms in my chest.

  Watching Elle in action over the last hour has been eye opening. The thought that she could fail at anything is one she needs to throw out the window. She’s been nothing but articulate, in control, intelligent, and above all, passionate. I can feel it in my veins. Even if Beverly chooses not to invest with us, we will get someone on-board.

  But as I listen to Elle walk Beverly through what a wedding package would include, I know she’s with us, hook, line, and sinker. Clutching a hand to her chest, Beverly sighs, “This place will be so romantic. It reminds me of my wedding, all those years ago. It was on a vineyard just like this one. Tuscany is beautiful. Have you ever been there?” She eyes me and Elle, a dreamy look in her eyes.

  “No, I’ve never been. But to hear you talk about it with such fondness, I know I’ll have to get there soon,” Elle answers with poise and charm. A pregnant bubble of silence falls over us in the small meeting room. We’ve gone over every aspect, explained our detailed five-year plan, and shown her everything she’s asked for. The only thing l
eft is whether Ms. Elliot and her investors will join us in becoming one of the largest wedding reception vineyards on Long Island.

  “So, Ms. Elliot,” Elle cuts through the silence, “is there anything else we can show you? Or any other questions you might have?”

  With one last loving touch of the blueprints she fell in love with, Beverly stands from her seat and extends her hand to Elle. On a firm shake, she says, “I love it. Where do I sign?”

  An hour after finishing all the paper work, Elle flops back into her chair. Utter exhaustion mixes with pure elation as a huge grin pulls at her lips. “I can’t believe we did it,” her voice is filled with amazement.

  “Well, I can.” I stand behind her, rubbing the tension out of her shoulders, loving how she moans at the softest touch. “You were amazing. Hell, if I wasn’t already invested in Bella Luna’s, I would have jumped on-board, too.”

  She chuckles and looks up at me as she rolls her eyes. Her hand covers mine at her shoulder and a look of concern replaces the playful one that was there just a second ago. “We need to talk about earlier.”

  Without letting go of her hand, I slide into the chair next to her. “Okay, well, I thought last night was fantastic. Five star performance. You?” I wink, pulling her hand up to my lips for a sweet kiss.

  Elle chuckles briefly before the amusement vanishes. “I’m serious, Owen. What are we going to do? What are we going to be, half-owners and…and…lovers? No one will ever take us seriously.”

  She’s adorably cute, but very much so misled. “Elle, first of all, if we keep up at the business end of this deal like we did this morning, no one will even bat an eyelash about us being together. And, secondly, if you think I’m going to walk away from what we had last night, well, then you’re crazier than I initially thought.”

  Loosening my tie, which has seriously felt like it’s been strangling me from the second I put it on, an idea blossoms in my head. “Things have a funny way of working out, you know. For instance, I can’t stand being in this monkey suit.” Tossing my tie on the table, I undo the first few buttons of my crisp, white dress shirt. “There was a time when all I thought about was shit like this.” Extending my hand over the table, I indicate the piles of paperwork we’ve spent the last twelve plus hours working on.

  Standing from my seat, I lean down and capture her lips in a hot-as-hell kiss. Wrapping my hands around her small waist, I lift her up so that her ass sits on the edge of the conference table. Ridding myself of the rest of my shirt, I toss it on the floor. “How does this sound?” I flutter my lips against her neck, her only response a quiet “hmm.”

  “I love it out in the fields, more than I ever thought I would.” My lips dance across her collarbone as my fingers work the buttons of her top. “And you love it in here. You’re in your element.” My hands roam up her legs, hiking her skirt up along the way. “Besides, you look stunning in these,” I whisper in her ear, running my fingers along the tops of her stockings.

  Angling my head back from her, I meet her eyes. There’s a worrisome look there. “Stop, Elle. You won’t fail.”

  “But, I did. The only reason today happened was because of you and Nick.” Her voice wobbles despite the success she’s earned.

  “No, sweetheart. She fell in love with your vision. This place is in your heart and in the short time I’ve been here, it’s become a part of mine too. Just not this side. It’s freer out there. The sun on my back, the grapes in my hands. Plus, knowing you’re in here waiting for me, well, that makes it even better.”

  Her head rolls back as I kiss the tops of her breasts. My thumbs skim her puckered nipples through the satin of her bra. “What do you think, Elle?”

  After lowering her bra, I pull her nipple deeply into my mouth. She groans, lacing her fingers into my hair and holding me against her chest. “That’s not a very articulate answer,” I joke, moving my lips around her pink skin.

  “I can’t talk. Fuck, I can’t even think,” she groans again before pulling me back to her body.

  “Good. Then just feel and we’ll figure the rest of this out later.”

  Without warning, her hands fumble with my pants. Wasting no time, I shove them down just enough to free my cock. I reach around to my back pocket and pull out my wallet. Handing her the condom, I watch in fascination as she tears the wrapper open with her teeth. With a sexy slowness, she unrolls the latex down my erection and stares into my eyes. “Take me, Owen. Now.”

  Arching her hips, and resting some of her weight on her hands behind her, I shove her satin-covered pussy up to meet my waiting cock. Sliding her panties to the side, I push into her. “God, you’re so wet.”

  “And you’re so hard…oh, God…Owen…” her words turn into breathless pants that come out in time to the rhythm of our movements. Her legs wrap around my waist and I slide my thumb in between us. When it brushes over her clit, she purrs in satisfaction. Looking down at her, her long brown hair tumbling down her back, her rich chocolate eyes darkening with desire, her body pulling tighter and tighter as we get closer and closer, it all pushes me close to the edge of my control.

  Adding some extra pressure, I move my thumb in rapid circles over her clit. Her eyes roll back, her pussy clenches, and her breathing deepens. “Owen…” she calls out as her orgasm courses through her.

  “Oh, fuck…Elle…” her name tumbles from my lips on one last thrust.

  Holding her beautiful face in my hands, I softly kiss her lips. “Besides,” I say, adding to my earlier line of conversation, “I think these midday romps might be fun.” She smiles against my lips and I know she’s seeing the beauty in my plan.

  “I can’t believe this is actually happening.” I stare in amazement at the gigantic hole in the ground where the small cottage used to be.

  “Well, believe it, man, because the cement truck is here. Time to pour the foundation and get this project started.” Nick’s voice is full of excitement as he knocks on my hard hat. The last few weeks have been a bit crazy getting everything in line, but the fact that we’re actually starting today is a huge reward.

  Pete walks up next to us, and like three little boys fascinated with the huge machine in front of us, we stare as the workers start filling the foundation. Clapping a hand on my shoulder, Pete says, “This is real good work, Owen. Vincent would be proud.” His words draw a smile across my face.

  For the rest of the day, we help with the cement pouring and start with some more minor tasks. There isn’t much we can do right away, so I keep on with my usual jobs. It isn’t until late in the afternoon that Elle catches up with me down out in the fields.

  “Hey, babe,” she greets me, stretching up on her toes to pop a quick kiss on my cheek.

  Looping my arms around her, I lift her and swing her around. “Hey yourself, beautiful.” She must have already wrapped everything up for the day, because instead of her usual attire, she’s changed into cut-off shorts and a tank top. Even though tennis shoes replace her stilettos, her legs still look amazing.

  “Hungry?” she asks as she bends down to pick up the picnic basket next to her.

  Like I wolf, I eye her. “Always for you.” She smacks my chest and rolls her eyes.

  “Wasn’t this morning enough for you?” Her fingers comb through my hair and her voice takes on a more seductive tone.

  “Nope,” I seal my lips over hers, “I’ll never have enough.” Her laughter rolls from her lips just before she pulls away from me.

  “You can have more later, after we eat.” She adds another eye roll for good measure. “The food, after we eat food,” she responds to my sly smile.

  “It’s really beautiful out here.” Elle looks out at the field from under the large tree where we usually have our picnics. The sun is falling behind the small hills that dot the landscape in the distance, but all I see is her. I never thought I’d be happier than when I was working with my investment firm in Boston. God, how wrong was I?

  Pulling her to my side, I kiss the top of her
head. “More beautiful than watching me work out here?” I laugh against her hair, knowing that her cheeks are turning a nice shade of pink.

  “I do– ” her attempts at defense are cut off by my lips.

  “You do, too. I don’t mind, though.” She jabs me in my side at my joke. “I like catching you staring at me.”

  “Wait a second,” she exclaims, crawling on my lap. Now straddling me, with my back pressed up against the thick tree trunk, she holds my face in her hands. “The only way you could know I’m staring at you,” her fingers graze over the light stubble on my jaw as her thumb sweeps over my lip, “is if you’re staring up at me.” Her lips gently press against mine as her hips grind in my lap.

  “Caught red-handed,” I smile against her lips, holding her close to me. She shoots me a look, suggesting she’s anything but surprised. After another heated kiss, she crawls off my lap and situates herself between my legs so that her back is pressed up against my chest. We enjoy the rest of our meal and bottle of wine overlooking our vineyard as the sounds of the construction crew fade into the background.

  “Owen,” I call out into the almost complete darkness of the wine cellar. “Are you down here?” Of course, I know he’s down here; this is where he’s spent most of the winter working on the latest harvest. Wandering down the cool hallways, I have to admit, I miss the hot summer months when Owen would walk around the fields. Catching the more than occasional glimpse of him shirtless, his hard, lean muscles glistening in the sun, would often be the highlight of my day.

  “In here,” his low voice calls out from a hidden room. Sidestepping a few stray oak barrels, I find my way into his own private cellar. Bottles of his favorite wines are scattered about the room. A proud smile curls at my lips realizing Owen has really found his own place here at Bella Luna’s. When the construction was in full blast through the fall, he worked long, hard days under the sun. With Nick by his side, he was a force to be reckoned with. His poised control is the principal reason the main structure was done in just over three months. Now, the remainder of the task is left to my charge. Sure, Nick and Owen will lead the crew in hanging drywall and running electric, but the interior design, the overall feel of the venue is left to me.