"You ready for this?"
I should have been the one asking him that because he didn't sound remotely ready for what was waiting on the other side of the door.
Jacob's usually authoritative voice was unsteady. Nervous. The man had taken on squirrely investors, paparazzi and Rachel Laraby like a Spartan charging into battle, but he paused at the entrance to The Vineyard. He paid no mind to the staff, perky and already springing to action as they pulled open the heavy oak doors to the restaurant. He looked beyond them warily, like he could already see his mother, smiling brightly as she secretly plotted some way to break his heart all over again.
To the outside world he was the picture of cool sophistication. His dark waves were tamed and pushed back, highlighting his good genes. There was no missing his signature, strong jaw, bright blue eyes and lips that would make any woman's cheeks redden as she thought up ways to put them to good use. His crisp, two-piece suit commanded attention and if it wasn't for the staff providing a buffer, the paparazzi were more than willing to oblige. Usually, he'd trade barbs since he knew most of them by name, but not today.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to chicken out," I said, my lips curling at the sides. Comic relief--that’s what this situation needs.
He gave me a single look that would have reduced anyone else to a bumbling mess, but I didn't even blink until he dropped the hard ass routine and his mouth tilted into a smirk.
"Chicken out? No--there's just other things I'd like to do..."
I felt every single dot dot dot as blue eyes worked their way around the curves of my body before settling back on the weakening resolve in my eyes. I was pretty sure I knew where the conversation was headed. Other things he'd like to do...to me.
And I wouldn't put up a fight. We'd already spent most of the morning in some manner of undress and all it took from him was a single look, heck, a single word and I was quivering and wet.
He roped a hand around my waist and I didn't even have time to say a word before he gripped my ass.
The cameras went wild.
My face was already on fire but I didn't look up to nonverbally ask if he really wanted our picture of the day to be one where he was copping a feel; we were both nervous as hell about this meeting so I considered making another joke or stepping it up a notch and really giving them something to photograph, but my face fell when I saw his.
His expression was a raw, exposed nerve. One look into his sea-blue eyes and I learned it was much more than jittery nervousness. He was like a man about to walk to his execution.
Jacob's apprehension was understandable. It had only been a few days since Alicia pulled the stick from her ass and handed over his grandmother's ring. After awkwardly going our separate ways, we'd speculated how things would change. His money was on Alicia acting like nothing happened, stepping into our lives as if she hadn’t been adamantly against our relationship. Mine was on her judging us from a distance. She was worthy of sainthood since she deigned to give up the ring, and now she would suffer in near silence until we learned our lessons.
Unfortunately, Jacob was right.
Not even twenty-four hours after the apology a barrage of texts, calls, and emails bombarded us both. It was like she was literally trying to make up for lost time. She was always apologetic, but after finally letting it go to voicemail it was obvious that she wasn’t going anywhere. When she’d suggested meeting for lunch to talk about the wedding I said yes before Jacob could get a word out, mostly because I figured it would be an hour or so that I wasn’t staring at my cell, waiting for it to light up with some new concept she wanted to share.
Now that we were here, I entertained thoughts of coming down with a spontaneous bug. Or maybe I could use the paparazzi; there was always one that went too far and made their subject snap. I could go all Bjork on their ass and then lunch with Mommy Dearest would definitely be canceled.
The owner of The Vineyard hustled out, dressed in a two piece suit of her own with stars in her eyes--and she drew a good number of eyes to the front entrance.
There'd be no backing out now.
"Mr. Whitmore," she gushed, her teeth as blaring white as the platinum blond hair pulled into a high bun on her head. "It's truly a pleasure." She shook his hand, lingering, like she was trying to savor the contact. She remembered herself and glanced at me with embarrassment setting fire to her cheeks. When she held out her hand, her face apologetic and slightly worried I'd be pissed, I shook hers with a smile. In the past it might have made me roll my eyes or bring my defenses up as I moved closer and marked my territory, but I felt no need. He put a ring on it and I knew when Jacob made a commitment, he meant it. Besides, we'd survived too much for me to act the fool just because some random woman had a crush.
"Mrs. Whitmore is already inside," the owner said, back in business mode. "If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. My staff and I are at your disposal."
Jacob gave her a crisp nod and looked down at me, slipping the mask of armor back on. "Shall we?"
Stepping inside of The Vineyard made my heart swell in my chest. The rich colors, the walls lined with wine bottles, the rustic furnishings--everything about it took me back to Venice. I didn't miss the parallels: Venice was me and Jacob’s beginning. Alicia was trying to make this our new beginning.
Our host guided us to our table and I took a deep breath as Alicia saw us and rose to her feet. An older woman was beside her, plunking out a final word on her iPhone before she gave us a quick smile and her face went serious. Alicia was gushing like she hadn't seen us in months. I shook Alicia’s hand and watched as the Awkward O-Meter ticked up to ‘run and hide’ as she moved to hug Jacob and he took a step backward, giving her a look that made me shiver.
Surely she didn’t expect that to go over well, but the crestfallen look that flashed across her face said otherwise.
Never one to stay down, Alicia recovered from the slight like a pro, turning back to the silver haired woman. “I’m so glad you two agreed to come.” She began the introductions. “This is Macy Scott. She’s the best wedding planner in the city.”
“Oh Alicia,” Macy said with a haughty chuckle. “You’re exaggerating just a smidge.” From the smile she had slathered on her lips at the compliment, she was loving the praise--and believed every word. “Best in the city? That may be a little bit much.”
“You orchestrated Mika Sanchez’ last minute nuptials to that Saudi prince, made Oz Claiborne’s sixth wedding look like a storybook romance instead of a lecherous old man’s end-of-life crisis and even I was impressed when you turned Liza Jackman’s rehab romance into a goth’s wet dream. She talks about you like you’re the second coming of Christ,” Jacob paused, cool eyes locked on her. “I think you know exactly how good you are.”