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Max looked her over. “How is your thigh? You taking good care of it? Applying the ointment?” he asked.
She swallowed hard and looked up at him with an expression that warned him to be patient with her. She was a timid thing.
“Yes, sheriff. It still hurts a bit but I’ll be fine,” she said and he raised one of his eyebrows up at her but before he could tell her to call him Max, his brother interrupted.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Monroe asked.
“No, thank you. If you would like to show me the wine cellar and this window you want me to see, that would be great and I can get out of your hair in no time.”
“You’re not in our hair. It’s nice to have you here,” Caldwell said and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and lowered her head.
Max cleared his throat.
“It’s this way,” Max said and motioned with his hand for her to follow him.
He could smell her perfume and he hoped the hallway, their house, still smelled of it when she left so he could enjoy it some more.
He opened the door and they headed down the stairs. She seemed hesitant to follow them into the basement. He couldn’t blame her.
As soon as the cellar came into sight he heard Alicia sigh.
“Oh my, this is stunning, and so big,” she said as she moved around the room and toward the window.
“That’s a lot of wine bottles you have in here,” she said, looking at the custom-made wine racks and tasting table. Her hands glided along the wood and he gulped down his own thoughts of those hands on his body. Touching him. Exploring him. No woman ever made Max feel this way. Not by a long shot. In fact, most women would have already been in their bed by now, but Alicia was different. She was the first woman they wanted to take their time with. Although watching her in the sexy skirt, her tanned legs down to her small heeled sandals and manicured toes, then up her flat belly to her well-endowed breasts was causing his heart to race. Was it hot in here? He pulled the collar from his neck and tried to ease the sensations. She made him nervous, uneasy, and out of sorts. He didn’t like the feeling. It made him desperate to end this and just kiss her already.
“Over eight hundred bottles can be stored on the racks alone, never mind the special cellar below,” Monroe said.
“A special cellar?” she asked.
Max smiled as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Here we go. Caldwell and Monroe spared no expense when it came to this project.”
“Come over here, Alicia, and I’ll show you,” Monroe said and took her by her elbow. Max watched her pull her bottom lip between her teeth and hesitate, but she went with him. Her knee-length flair skirt tapped against her knees.
“Can you reach up and grab me that statue of the wine maker? I want to show you something,” he said. When Alicia reached for the statue and pulled back, the door began to open from behind the bookcase.
She stepped back and Monroe pressed up against her as he clutched her shoulders.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“Yeah, it’s not quite a dungeon,” Max teased.
“A dungeon. I don’t think so,” she said and turned as if she were going to leave. Monroe gave Max a dirty look as he grabbed her hand.
“Please, don’t listen to him, he’s trying to get a rile out of you. It’s safe and even cool. I promise.”
As they headed inside, the small hallway wound to the right and Monroe hit the switch on the wall. Immediately the inner room illuminated and Alicia gasped and placed her hands together moving closer.
“Oh my God, Monroe, this is incredible,” she said and entered the private wine-tasting room decorated in Tuscan colors and a vintage feel. There was raised grape wall paint surrounding the arched doorway to the room and then authentic barrels of wine and some wrought iron cabinets that encased expensive wine bottles being aged for the right occasion and Alicia looked impressed.
“Do you like it?” Caldwell asked, joining them.
“Like it? Are you kidding me? I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’m very impressed. Do you do tastings down here during parties?” she asked, letting her hand slide along the marble counter and tasting area, then against the wood that a local wood-making artist created just for the room.
“Only a select few people have seen this room. Monroe likes to escape down here when he’s overstressed,” Max told her.
“Hmm. That must be nice to have a place to go to in order to separate from the stress. Some low lights or candles, a nice glass of wine and some—”
