AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes,” he countered himself. Out loud.
Hallie’s head came up. There. There were her beautiful eyes. “Yes, what?”
Pulse firing, he shook his head. “Nothing.”
She hummed, narrowing her gaze. “Do you happen to know anything about those promotional cards for Corked that everyone was holding?”
He kept his expression neutral. If he informed her of their origin, he’d probably have to tell her about the new awning he’d ordered for Corked, too, and he didn’t need to be told he’d gone overboard. He was well aware. And while a relationship with Lorna could help the vineyard, the true reason he’d intervened was standing right in front of him, with that perfect little crease that ran down the center of her bottom lip. That dimple in her cheek. “Promotional cards for Corked? I didn’t notice.”
“Really.” She folded her arms across her tits, drawing his attention downward, and God almighty, the way the material of her shirt stretched over those generous mounds would keep him awake tonight. Already, he was mentally uncapping his bottle of lube, pressing his open mouth to the center of the pillow, and imagining her beneath him, naked, legs thrown over his shoulders. “How odd. I wonder where they came from.”
If Julian told her, maybe she would kiss him. Or even come home with him. And fuck, that was tempting. But would he be leading her on? Yes, he wanted to make her happy. Yes, he wanted to eviscerate everything that caused her to worry and put an eternal Hallie Smile on her face. Every time he let himself indulge in Hallie, though, that out-of-control feeling threatened to topple him. He didn’t know how to allow himself to . . . let go like that. It unnerved him. And he’d ultimately hurt her feelings—which was the exact opposite of what he wanted.
They were cut from different cloth. He craved order, and she was human pandemonium. Yet why was he beginning to have such a hard time remembering that? Maybe because those gray eyes were on him, her soft, round face brushed in sunset, her mouth so goddamn close, he could taste it.
“I thought of you earlier tonight,” he said, without thinking, distracted by the dip of her dimple. “You were right about what to say to Natalie.”
“Was I?” She searched his eyes. “You two had a heart-to-heart?”
“Of sorts, I suppose. The Vos version.” There was no denying how good it felt to speak to Hallie like this. Just the two of them. He’d met women throughout his life who were logical and concise and regimented. Like him. Shouldn’t it have been easier to open up to someone who operated the same way? “We . . . I guess you could say we bonded.”
“That’s amazing, Julian,” she whispered. “Over what?”
Hallie wanted to be kissed. She was standing too close for him to draw any other conclusion. And when she snagged that full, creased bottom lip between her teeth and dropped her gaze to his mouth, he had to suppress a groan. Fuck it. There was no stopping himself. Two days without her taste and it was like being starved to death. “She helped me with a letter I’ve been meaning to write,” he muttered, dipping his head—
Hallie straightened. “Oh.” She blinked down at her hands. “Natalie helped you write a letter?”
Julian replayed his thoughtless words. What in the hell had he been thinking bringing up the secret admirer letter? He wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t keep his head on straight around Hallie. That was the problem. Why was he suddenly more desperate than before to go retrieve the letter from the stump before anyone could accidentally find it? Especially his admirer.
Jesus. As he stood there looking down into Hallie’s face, the fact that he’d even temporarily left correspondence for someone else made him ill. But Hallie was waiting for an explanation, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Not to her. “Yes,” he said, praying the matter would be dropped immediately. “A secret admirer, if you can believe it. Writing back seemed like the polite thing to do, although it was more a way for me and Natalie to—”
“That’s wonderful, Julian,” she blurted. “Wow. A secret admirer. That’s so old-school. Um . . .”
Wait. She wasn’t letting him finish. He wasn’t going to let the letter be found. It was important she understood that—
“I’m glad things turned a corner with your sister. I’m sure the fact that you’re making an effort means the most of all. Not what I suggested you do.” She took a step backward, away from him. “I better get back inside to see if Lavinia needs me.”
“Yes,” he clipped out, already missing her. Again. “But, Hallie—”
“Good night.”
Why did he have a mounting sense of guilt over writing that letter? He and Hallie weren’t dating. In fact, they’d specifically agreed not to form any kind of personal relationship. So why did he feel like he’d fucking betrayed her? No matter that he’d pictured Hallie’s face while writing back to the secret admirer—the guilt remained.
