When she checked the shot in her display, Greg’s hunky body took up most of the frame, and his emerald green eyes peered right at her. She tried to catch the image live, but he’d moved. Faith scooped up her hair and waved a hand to dry the sweat beading up on her neck. She never got that water.
When Gwen and Andrew got closer, she pointed. “Stand in front of the wine case and look at each other.”
“That’s easy,” Andrew purred at his wife with a look of undeniable adoration.
Faith peeked again at the earlier group shot and was floored to find the same look in Greg’s eyes.
How was that possible?
Once the sommelier began pouring wine for the rest of the guests, everyone loosened up enough for her to get the action shots Gwen wanted. After months of painfully boring weekends, she was excited to dust off her Mac and play with Photoshop to make these pictures come to life.
When it came time for the final group shot, Faith slid around the guests and lined them up in the pose Gwen wanted. With so many people, she lost track of who she was touching while tugging elbows this way and that. But a handful of fabric in her grasp didn’t move so easily. Twisted in her fingers was Greg’s tie.
The bright purple color amazingly complimented the green eyes staring at her. The English language became foreign as she searched for words to come out of her mouth while his body hovered inches from hers again.
Various emotions played out in his face. That face! Strong angled lines and chiseled cheekbones made him formidable and gorgeous. The way he gazed down at her shot a rush of heat through her body so intense she was sure he felt it too.
Faith’s lips parted, and her tongue peeked out to lick the lower rim causing one of Greg’s eyebrows to rise. She felt like the moment had trapped them in a bubble and they were the only ones in the room.
Until Gwen stepped closer with determined eyes focused on her brother’s reaction. “Greg?”
“Uh...” Faith released his tie and smoothed it against the broad chest she saw and felt earlier.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Greg...stand in between Skye and Mr. Morgan.”
She staggered back to the tripod where she’d set up the camera. Through the viewfinder, Faith saw everyone beaming with a smile.
Except Greg. He just stared at her with a powerful gaze.
After several clicks, her eyes lingered on the display, watching him, wanting to freeze the moment because it felt like nothing else mattered.
She swallowed and looked up. “Got it.”
The crowd spread apart, and they all headed back to their respective corners. Faith attached the camera to her tablet and called Gwen over to go through the shots.
Swiping one after the other, her long-time friend beamed and stomped her Prada heels with happiness.
Andrew handed Faith a glass of white wine. “How much do we owe you?”
She took the drink and said, “Seriously, nothing. It’s my pleasure.”
“Are you sure?” He pointed to his mother. “That woman will write you a check for any amount of money.”
“Really?” Faith glanced at Gwen.
“He’s not kidding. Do you need a new car or anything?”
Faith laughed. “No. But, thanks.”
Peeking back at the crowd, Faith let her gaze linger on Greg. He was in a deep and heated conversation with his father. It piqued her curiosity wondering what the trouble could be. She’d never known there to be tension between him and Martin. Greg adored his father. Faith exhaled in relief, realizing she could escape without an awkward goodbye.
Tonight, was just an ice-breaker. A small step she needed to find a way to open up and tell Greg what had really happened.
Ambling through the parking lot, Faith tightened her jacket to battle the immediate chill she got.
The sun had set, and darkness settled around the winery as she hurried to her Honda.
The car’s handle stung from the cold, but she got it open and climbed inside. Looking forward to some heat, she turned the ignition.
Click, click, click. The engine teased her.
“No!”
Her father’s old clunker barely got her back and forth to the train station every day. She knew it was a risk to bring it all the way out the wineries. She tried again.
Click, click, click.
As she struggled to think if clicking meant the battery or the starter, a knock on her window made her jump.
“Having some trouble?” Greg’s voice sounded muted through the fogged-up glass.
A rush of heat slammed into her. The close-quarters in the tasting room were a start. Her nerves had settled, and it felt okay to be around him again. Those brief hours were enough for now, though.
Not for Greg, apparently. Glutton wanted more. Or...he just couldn’t help himself, because he was such a damn nice guy.
“It won’t start,” she said opening the door. If he could play casual, so could she.
“Let me bring my truck over. I have cables,” he said turning away.
“No. It’s fine. I’ll call my...” Her scrambled thoughts blanked and panic set in, wondering who she could call.
Greg dipped a dark brown eyebrow at her. “Your dad? He’s eighty years old and doesn’t look like he should drive anywhere to be honest.”
Faith waved at him to stop talking. It hurt to think about how frail her father had become in recent years.
“Okay,” she agreed quietly.
A few moments later, the black Tahoe he’d purchased a year before she left rolled up next to the rusty silver Accord. Knowing the car very well, Greg popped her hood, then his, and connected the two vehicles with a long yellow cable.
His thick body crammed into her driver’s seat and he tried the ignition. Grinding followed a faint whining sound and then...nothing. Faith wished Andrew’s mother had left a new car lying around for her to drive home.
“How did this thing even make it here?” Greg turned her key again and again.
“Thanks. You can give up.” Faith pulled out her phone. “I’ll just call a cab.”
Greg got out of her car. “Really. You think I’m just gonna leave you here? In the dark. Waiting for a cab?”
She looked around and smiled. “It’s Darling Cove. I think I’ll be safe.”
He took a few steps back and opened his truck’s passenger door. “Get in.”
While his command startled her, the warmth spilling out of the truck felt delightful on her frozen skin. Even from several feet away. The winery had closed up, and her only option was to wait outside. In the cold.
“Fine,” she said with a huff and climbed into the truck. The familiar feel of her feet on the running board knocked her off balance. Twenty-four goes into seven hundred and sixty.
Greg walked around her car and checked the doors, very much the confident hero with broad shoulders.
Faith had learned early in their relationship his gruff exterior was a shell he protected himself with. Inside, he was the sweetest, warmest, kindest, most generous man. It hadn’t been a shocking surprise. She’d seen him with his sisters and his mother. Once Faith came into that circle, he’d lavished her too with love and affection.
Greg Mallory had a heart of gold beating inside a body that made her melt. Oh, the heights of pleasure he’d given her. She’d already been in love with the idea of him from a distance. When he became a reality, he was nothing short of mind blowing.