Back in His Bed: Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks! / Unfinished Business with the Duke / How to Win the Dating War. Heidi Rice
wrinkled her forehead. “But you used to love it here—you were out here all the time. It was just after…after, you know, the divorce that you quit coming. I know that was because of me, and I am sorry for that.”
Interesting. There were many ways he could respond, but something about Brenna’s honesty brought out the same in him. “I don’t like wine, I don’t like grapes, and I certainly don’t have any interest in agriculture of any sort. Think about it—how often did I come out here in the two years after Max bought the property?”
“Maybe twice that I know of…”
He leaned forward and held her gaze. “That’s because you were in school and I hadn’t met you yet. Then I came out with Max for your graduation…”
Brenna’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Are you saying you only came out here to see me that summer?”
He nodded, enjoying the waves of shock that moved over her face as she re-aligned her thought processes. “And after we were over there was no reason for me to come back.”
BRENNA struggled to make sense of his words. The chirp of crickets and the bubbles of the tub’s jets covered the sound of her rough, shallow breaths as the ramifications of his simple statement hit home. “I always assumed it was me keeping you away.”
Jack shrugged a muscular shoulder, drawing her attention back to his body. Thankfully, much of it was submerged, and no longer quite the magnet for her eyes. Jack in nothing but swim trunks brought back too many memories, and her brain simply couldn’t balance both important conversation and gawking at Jack’s body at the same time. She struggled to focus on what Jack was saying.
“Why? You knew good and well by the time we got divorced that there wasn’t much attraction out here for me.”
She’d been the attraction before. That explained some things…“But you didn’t even come to see Max after the divorce.”
“Staying under the same roof with your ex—especially when your former mother-in-law is sleeping with your father—isn’t exactly a tourist attraction.” A wry smile crossed his face. “No matter how nice the scenery.”
Okay, she knew that. She’d even considered moving back into her old house at the time, only Max and her mom had talked her out of it.
Jack’s legs were so close to hers under the bubbling water they rubbed against hers as he shifted position. The brief contact sent a zing through her. But she couldn’t hold eye contact, because the smoldering look there wreaked havoc on her insides. If she kept her eyes on his forehead it was easier to concentrate, and she’d be able to keep up with this conversation.
“Then Max started spending even more time out here and less in the city,” he continued, as if he didn’t know how she was having trouble following along, “and the company took over my life. What little free time I had left I wasn’t going to spend it out here, regardless.”
Suddenly she realized that for the first time since…well, since the beginning of the end, there was no anger underlying Jack’s words. While that absence calmed her guilty conscience, and the part of her that was always so on edge whenever she so much as thought of him, she wasn’t deaf to the other heat adding weight to his words. That heat her body recognized immediately, even though she hadn’t heard it in years. To her great embarrassment her breasts began to tingle and a familiar ache settled in her core.
It was gratifying to know that after everything Jack wasn’t completely immune to her. That he didn’t hate her enough to make his body forget what had brought them together in the first place. Her skin felt flushed, and she hoped the steam and the hot water would take the blame.
But she couldn’t lose focus. This conversation was too important. His concise explanation didn’t quite explain as much as his casual demeanor implied. “But Max always…” She stopped herself, unwilling to say the words.
Jack looked at her closely. “You think Max blamed you?”
She nodded. “He had to. He was so disappointed after the divorce.”
“Max didn’t like having his plans thwarted. He had this whole hotel-slash-winery empire planned, and you managed to accomplish the one thing he couldn’t do—made me give a damn about this place. The divorce put him back at zero—at least until he came up with this ridiculous scheme. Max didn’t blame you for the divorce, Bren. He saved all the blame for me.”
Jack didn’t sound bitter, just matter-of-fact. If anything, it made her feel worse about the situation. “Then I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I caused a rift between you and Max.”
“Quit apologizing. You didn’t cause anything. You were just a handy excuse.”
Just an excuse? No way. “There’s got to be more to it than that. Your relationship with Max—”
“Has nothing to do with the current situation.” He brushed her words aside with a wave of his hand.
She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them. The stress she’d come out here to alleviate was building instead. Hot tub jets were no match for the knots Jack caused, but the stress was much less disturbing than her inappropriate tingling. “Then why? If it’s not because of me and it’s not because of Max, then why do you want to sell so badly?”
She worked up the courage to look at him then, but he didn’t look angry. More like resigned and tired of talking about it. “How many times do I have to say it? I don’t want to own a winery. I know that’s an alien concept for you, because you do, but not everyone has a burning desire to make wine. You need to get off the property more. Expand your circle of friends and see there’s a whole world out there not obsessed with grapes.”
There it was. The snide remark. The dismissive tone. She should have known it was coming instead of being lulled by his civility and the intimate atmosphere caused by their surroundings and the conversation. She needed more space, and she pushed herself out of the steaming water. The air felt chilly against her heated skin but did nothing to cool her rising temper. “God, you’re such a jerk.”
Jack had the nerve to look taken aback. “What now?”
The tingle thankfully disappeared as old resentments bubbled up. This was much easier. “You. Acting so superior and condescending. Little Brenna is so sheltered and naïve, she couldn’t possibly know any better.”
“You can’t deny you’ve been sheltered out here. You used to admit that readily.”
She started to pace in agitation. “Maybe. That doesn’t mean I’m naïve. Just because I never went to college…”
Jack pushed out of the water as well and sat on the edge of the tub. “That was your decision. UC Davis would have let you in.”
“Only because my last name was Garrett at the time. And why would I spend all that time at school for them to teach me what I already knew about wine-making?”
“You might have enjoyed it. Or you could have gone to a different school and studied something else.”
Now a pang of old hurt joined the resentment. “Oh, I’m so sorry my lack of formal education was such an embarrassment in front of your snobby city friends.”
“Having interests other than grapes makes them snobs?”
“No, looking down on people makes them snobs.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You should know from all the practice you’ve had.”
Jack ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Why are we having this fight again? We’re not married anymore.”
And they’d just run through many of the reasons why.