Almost Lover by Campbell Steph

Author:Campbell, Steph [Campbell, Steph]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Amazon: B00NJ6DU0O
Goodreads: 18759913
Publisher: Campbell Reinhardt
Published: 2014-09-23T07:00:00+00:00

“You’re kidding me. No, I’m sorry. I’ve lied for you. I’ve faced Jack’s fists of fury for you. But I have to draw the line somewhere. This is ridiculous, Jordan. This isn’t even an authentic representation of Golden Leaf’s wine-making process.” I cross my arms over my chest and puff up, because it’s damn hard to tell Jordan ‘no’ when she’s made up her mind, so I need to put my foot down hard.

She pops her lower lip into her mouth and nibbles.

I drop my arms and lean in. “Stop it, doll. You know what it does to me when you—”

She looks at me from under her lashes, those big brown eyes so innocent…well, innocent looking.

That girl is a schemer, and she plays me like a violin.

“I know it’s a little silly, but I’ll be right there with you. The Lucy to your Ethel,” she says, and she gives me this sweet smile.

Damnit. I’m not made of stone.

I grab the faded work shirt she hands me and growl, “I’d be Lucy, obviously.”

“But I’m the redhead,” she counters. I watch her dart her eyes away as I strip my shirt off and shrug into the old one. And I definitely notice the way she blushes.

I’m seriously looking forward to this date tonight. Jordan Caletti and I need some one-on-one time to figure out exactly what we’re dealing with here.

“But I’m the sexy one.” I earn a smile from her and pat myself on the back. For a split second. Then I try to wiggle out of this mess one last time. “Why don’t I lead a tour of the operations room? Really interesting stuff.” I finish buttoning up the shirt.

“Mmm. And we’ll have to brew some espresso to keep everyone awake. Florence told us we need to think outside the barrel…” She pauses, waiting for me to react.

“Stop with your puns. The fact that you’re cute as hell has been established. It’s nice, no doubt, but it doesn’t excuse this mess.” I gesture to the enormous wooden barrel that’s been cut short and filled with grapes.

“‘This mess,’ as you call it, has our Saturday morning crowd up by…” She takes out her iPhone and checks some app Florence installed for her. That woman is simultaneously streamlining and ruining my life at Golden Leaf. “Twenty-eight percent from last weekend and forty-two percent compared to this time last year! C’mon, it’s amazing right? Admit it. It’s incredible!”

Okay. I’m ridiculously weak in the face of her enthusiasm.

“Fine,” I sigh. She beams. Gotta admit, it’s a crazy beautiful smile, but I don’t want her to know just how much control she has over me. It’s actually a little scary. “This is so unsanitary,” I mutter, unlacing my boots, peeling off my socks, and rolling up my worn jeans.

A peppy young college student who helps at the tasting counter is yelling indecipherable directions into a megaphone and leading groups of people up the hill, where more barrels are set out.

“Okay, all we have to do is

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