Summer in Napa by Marina Adair

Author:Marina Adair
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2013-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

By the time they made it down the back steps, her front door was wide open, the handle covered in drool, and Pricilla’s umbrella holder was on its side while her collection of umbrellas was strewn across the stoop and down the alley.

Marc turned the umbrella holder upright. Where it stayed for all of a half second before falling back over. “I’m sorry, Lexi. I’ll buy you a new one.”

“I feel so used,” she said, picking up the closest umbrella and stacking it next to the entrance. “He didn’t even give me a doggie high five before he broke down my door.”

Marc smiled. “Most women would be pissed.”

“Lucky for you and your checkbook, I’m not most women. And did your dog really just gnaw open my door?”

“What can I say, he’s evolved.”

They finished stacking the umbrellas and stood on the stoop, side by side, silently watching the light over the parking lot flicker and the old oak tree behind the Paws and Claws Day Spa move in the breeze. The evening was over, Wingman was nowhere in sight, and Lexi felt suddenly sad to see him and his owner leave.

“Thank you,” she said, turning her head to look up at him, surprised at how husky her voice came out.

His slid her a sidelong glance. “For my dog destroying your entryway or for making you cry over Jeff?”

“For believing in me,” she said, horrified when her voice caught.

At that, Marc faced her fully. He opened his arms wide and beckoned her with a little wiggle of his fingers. “Come here, cream puff.”

That crooked smile, that simple gesture, and Lexi was transported back to high school, to every single time she had needed a friendly hug over the years and Marc had been there. Only this time when she walked into his arms, her eyes never left his and they both knew that there wasn’t anything friendly about the way her body reacted, or the way his palms slid up her back to burrow in her hair.

“Marc,” she whispered.

A dog barked in the distance, followed by Wingman answering, and then the sound of trash cans toppling over.

“I better go,” he said, stepping back, his hands sliding down her back and lingering for just a second on her hips. “Thanks for dinner, and let me know if you need anything.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

“I mean it, Lexi. The catering, the tasting tomorrow, anything. Understand?”

A symphony of barks echoed down the alley, ending with a loud yelp.

“You’d better go.”

With one final wave, Marc disappeared down the alley, and Lexi found herself seated on the stoop. She tried to blame it on the wine, but she knew her weak knees had nothing to do with alcohol. Marc believed in her. Not just in her cooking or her bistro—but in her.

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