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I lifted my chin. “And I was about to remind Michael that Monarch is not a huge city. We’re humble and value our quiet space and modest luxuries.”
Michael barked out a laugh. “You act like you live in the middle of Timbuktu. Siena, you live in an up-and-coming city. Sure, it’s notSan Diego,but it’s not Benbow either.”
What was he doing, making up cities now? “Benbow?”
“Yes, Benbow. It’s a super small city in northern California. Quaint little town. Humboldt County, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Are you making this shit up?” I had no idea what the hell Michael was talking about.
He chuckled. “Nope. Scout’s honor.” He saluted me with a wink.
“I don’t believe you. You’re making it up. I can tell.”
Pops and Grams were watching our tennis match across the table.
“I’m not. I swear. I’m telling you the god’s honest truth. But you can google it if you want.” He crossed his arms across his chest with a smirk. “You know all about doing a Google search . . . if I’m not mistaken.”
Pops erupted into laughter. Grams and Michael joined in. I turned beet red. My cheeks became hot. My pits were sweating like nobody’s business. “You all suck. Seriously suck.” My outburst just made them laugh harder.
“Okay, okay.” Michael clutched his stomach, trying to catch his breath.
I was so utterly embarrassed. Why’d he have to go and bring up old shit like me googling him?
“Whatever!” I huffed my way out of the room, making a dramatic exit. I’d barely escaped to the hallway when an arm came around me.
“Siena, I was just teasing you. Don’t be mad.” He tugged me closer.
“Ugh. You’re insufferable!” I wiggled in his grasp. I could imagine the looks my grandparents were exchanging in the other room. I didn’t need him adding more fuel to their fire. “Let me go,” I demanded, trying to sound angry. Instead, I sounded husky and breathless, and I felt my cheeks heat again.
“Only if you promise not to be mad.” I felt his breath against the back of my ear and down my neck, his heart was beating in his chest against my back. And was that—was he hard? I swear I could feel him against my backside. Holy crap!
“Why?” I squeaked out. I wiggled again, shamelessly trying to feel him.
“Promise you’re not mad,” he exclaimed, more for my grandparents’ benefit than mine.
“Fine!” I said in defeat. “I promise.”
I felt him grind into me as he released me, turning me so I could return to the kitchen.
When I looked back, he smiled smugly as he readjusted himself. He stayed a moment more, trying to control the bulge in his pants.
“All right, Michael, let’s see these plans of yours,” Pops said when we’d walked back in.
Michael, calm, cool, composed—back in control. It gave me a glimpse into how he’d act in a real meeting. “They’re not my plans though. They’re Mosby’s. My architect.”
“Ah.Yourarchitect.” My words were clipped as I drummed my fingers on the table.
“Well, our architect,” he corrected. “She’s one of my best friends.” He grabbed the tube and slid out a massive collection of blueprints. I watched as he unrolled them, securing them with our coffee mugs as paperweights. “Welcome to Monarch—an E Hotel.” His proud smile illuminated his face.
My hackles rose in immediate defense as I looked at the top sheet. It was an enormous structure. This building was gorgeous, no doubt about it. A luxury resort hotel that rose over twenty-five stories high. While it’d be great in another city, it was way too big for Monarch. It would tower over the winery and distract from our own picturesque and panoramic views.
Pops whistled loud and long. “That’s quite a building.”
“It’s beautiful. And big,” Grams added. She ran her fingers along the bottom of the sheet as if touching the paper might bring it to life for her. “Wow.” She plucked at the bottom edge of her shirt, pulling it down and smoothing it out. “That’s certainly quite a building,” she echoed Pops.
“Siena?”
“Hmm?” I looked up. His chocolate eyes stared into mine.
