Wine, Tarts & Sex

“I had an apartment there at the time. Janie stayed with me for a while after Tommy dumped her. She needed a shoulder to cry on.”

“She’s good at crying.”

“It wasn’t so bad. I had my whiny moments, too. And we did a lot of clubbing in those days. She’s fun to party with.”

“Do you miss the bright lights?”

“Uh-uh. I came here to escape the bright lights-camera lights included. I was raised not far from here. My comfort level is far, far away from big cities.”

“You must have lived in them a long time, though? Modeling careers start young, don’t they?”

“Usually. But I didn’t get in the game until my senior year in college. Someone entered me in some contest, and two weeks later I was walking the runways in Milan. I started late, and I stopped just as soon as my bank account made me financially independent. But what inspired you to relocate to the boondocks? I was born here. I have an excuse. ”

He grinned. “Midlife crisis.”

“It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?” She eased left onto the Crosstown freeway ramp. “What are you-thirty-one, thirty-two?”

“Thirty-five. I started asking myself why the hell I was working so hard.”

“And you thought you’d find the answer here? Did you throw a dart at a map?”

“Close. I knew about Chaz’s place, and then my aunt has a lake home in Wisconsin. She told me to check it out and see how it’s looking. No one’s been there for years.” He smiled. “Except yard people and a handy man or two.”

“Where in Wisconsin?”

“A place called Deer Lake.”

She shot him a look. “You’re kidding.”

“You know where it is?”

“About ten miles from my farm.”

“So we’ll be neighbors. Come over and borrow a cup of sugar anytime,” he said with a grin.

“Tempting. Although you won’t be living there, will you?”

“If you’re close by, maybe I’ll change my mind.”

“You should package that charm, darling.”

“Feel free to bring your fine package over to my place. I’m available twenty-four- seven.” Christ, maybe he really was having an early midlife crisis. He couldn’t recall ever offering a woman carte blanche entree to his life before.

“You’re sorry you said that, aren’t you?” She took a right.

He laughed. “Does it show?”

“Oh, yeah. Look, last night was great. But no sense making too much of it. How’s that?” Did she sound mature or what?

He smiled. “A relief. Although, I gotta tell you, you’re screwin’ with my head, darlin’.”

“Not for long. Once we pick up Janie and Matt, the focus will shift to the soap opera star in our midst. Prepare yourself for tears.”

“Will do.”

“Although she may have matured now that she’s a mother.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Liv shrugged. “I was being polite.” Janie hadn’t sounded very mature on the phone with her sobbing and screaming.

“Okay, so we’ll brace ourselves. The kid’s probably used to her hysteria by now anyway. How old is he?”

“Threeish. He has four given names-Matthew Tabor Carter Nicholas-so he could be just a tad spoiled.”

“Like his mother.”

“So we’re on the same page.”

“In so many ways, babe,” he said with a wicked grin.

In an effort to still her wildly beating heart, she said, businesslike and cool, “I’d better call my working partner before we get to the Hilton. I’ll let Chris know that I’m going to be home later than I thought.” Keep everything in perspective, she warned herself. He was talking about sex. It wasn’t about beating hearts.

“So, does Chris live on your farm?” Jake asked as she flipped her phone shut after a brief conversation with her vintner. Why it mattered, he chose not to examine.

“Sort of.”

“What does that mean?” Realizing his voice had sharpened, he quickly said, “Sorry-I was outta line to ask.”

“Actually, Chris and his wife live across the road on a small property I own. She’s still in law school, so they’re living frugally. The house is small; it was originally a log cabin that was enlarged.”

After hearing the word wife, Jake’s good humor resurfaced, and the smile he turned on Liv could have melted stone. “It’s nice you have backup.”

“I don’t like to impose on Chris too much, though. He has his hands full with the wine making.”

So if she stayed over, she wouldn’t necessarily have to drive home at the crack of dawn, Jake thought. “I understand, ” he politely replied. But he found himself contemplating a lazy morning in bed with her. “Then again,” he softly added, “if you were to give Chris a heads-up, you might be able to stay for breakfast next time. I make a pretty good apple-cinnamon French toast.”

“Maybe I could,” she said with feigned calm. No way was she going to appear overeager with Jake’s old flame, Janie, waiting for him at the Hilton.

“Perfect,” he said, like it was a done deal.

Nine

It took a few moments for Liv to calm herself after his invitation to stay for breakfast, delivered as it was in that low, sexy tone. Not to mention his done-deal certainty that conjured up in her mind delicious images that had nothing to do with food. But calm herself she did, because sex was sex. It wasn’t the Taj Mahal in moonlight. Particularly with a perennial bachelor like Jake.

It helped that one of her favorite songs came on the radio, diverting her attention from her body’s much too eager-beaver desires. Thank God for Terri Clark reminding her of what bad-ass men could do to your peace of mind. By the time she turned into the Hilton Hotel drive, she was more or less in control of her emotions.

Fortunately. Because the second Liv pulled up to the front door, Janie came flying through the double doors with little Matt in tow. She was red-eyed from crying, waving frantically. But however stressed, she’d managed to put herself together in a colorful Narciso Rodriguez slacks outfit that was screamingly out of place at an airport Hilton.

“The drama queen,” Jake murmured, reaching for the door handle. “Take a deep breath.”

“Gotcha.”

As they exited the truck, Janie cried out in a voice that would have carried to the last balcony at La Scala, “Jake! Liv! You’ve saved my life!”

The few other guests getting cabs for early flights swiveled around to stare, Janie’s ringing words delivered with soap opera histrionics.

Running toward them on jeweled sandals, Janie mustered up a quivering smile that would have been labeled as one of quiet desperation in drama class. “You don’t know how absolutely grateful I am to have you both come and get me! How perfect!”

As she reached them, she hugged them both with the fervor of someone rescued from a desert island, while her son stared up at Liv and Jake with the caution children afforded strangers.

Taking note of Matt’s uncertainty, Liv bent down and murmured, “Hi, I’m Liv. I’m a friend of your mother’s. What’s your name?”