At First Blush Read online

  Ben returned with their water, his eyes back to their normal sparkling self. “Do you want to go first?”

  “Sure. Since it’s breathing.” He filled her glass and she stuck out her hand to stop him. “This is a bit much for a tasting.”

  “It’s already open and I don’t want it to go bad. We might as well drink it up.” He poured himself a glass of wine as well and sipped it as he studied her over the rim of his glass.

  Alexis picked up the cheap, scratched glass by the stem and swirled the wine. It was hard to do with such a full glass and Ben grinned mischievously. “You did this on purpose.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Chances were if he challenged her to a taste off he was familiar with wines. It wasn’t like central Maine attracted wine connoisseurs from across the globe, but many wine enthusiasts enjoyed visiting the few wineries in Maine.

  Being so far out of the way, Maine relied on summer tourists who were here for the scenery, lighthouses, lobsters, and blueberries to also want to partake in local wines.

  “Are you going to hold that glass all day or take a swig? You wine people confuse the hell out of me.” Willie placed a heaping pile of fried haddock, scallops, shrimp, and clams between them. “Keep an eye on her. She’ll eat all your scallops when you’re not looking.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Ben held up the paper bag. “Care for a glass of wine, Willie?”

  Willie guffawed. “Now don’t that sound funny? Guys like me don’t drink wine. I’m a beer guy. Beer and lobster. Beer battered fish. Beer and fries. Only sissies drink that girly stuff.” He shook his head, mumbling as he stormed back through the swinging doors again.

  Alexis couldn’t help but bust out in laughter. Ben looked like he didn’t know if he should be offended or if he should blow off the insult.

  “Willie speaks his mind and doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Really?” he said in disbelief.

  “Okay, he means every word he says, but he’s not trying to be cruel or insulting.” She snorted. “Willie’s a town…legend, I guess we’d call him. Even though no one knows his real age. Somewhere between seventy and one hundred. ”

  “That’s quite the span.”

  “Yeah, being out on the boat your whole life weathers you, no pun intended. His gnarled fingers could be from age, could be from hauling in traps. Probably a combo of both.”

  The smell of the fried fish clouded her senses, and she wanted to identify the wine before diving in. Closing her eyes, she took a small sip, swishing it around her mouth and letting it rest on her tongue. Black cherry. Definitely a Merlot and a blend of other grapes.

  She swallowed and opened her eyes. Ben’s stare was fixated on her lips. She licked them involuntarily and watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  “Dark cherry and a hint of cinnamon.”

  “Italy, France, Australia, or California.”

  “Are those my only choices?”

  Ben seemed to think for a moment and nodded.

  “It’s too rich for California. Not something Australians use. Not France. I’m going with Italy.” She sipped again. “A blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon.” She licked her lips. “Malbec and…Carmenere. Cinnamon and chocolate.”

  “You’ve lived up to your reputation.”

  “Oh? And what have you heard of my reputation?”

  Ben’s throat did that deep, hard swallowy thing again, and Alexis crossed her legs to avoid squirming in her seat. She reached for a scallop realizing they didn’t have plates yet. Fish on the Wharf was as casual as Mom’s kitchen. Willie cooked, but you served your beverage, got your own plate and silverware, and even cleared and scraped your plate. As he said, he was no waitress.

  Alexis slid out of her chair and picked two plates out of the hutch and two forks from the drawer underneath. There was already a roll of paper towels on the table, as well as salt and pepper. She placed a plate and fork in front of Ben and he thanked her.

  “Don’t thank me too fast. I’m going to be the one thanking you for dinner since you’re about to lose our bet.”

  “Confident, are you?”

  Alexis snorted as she stabbed another scallop. “Yup.” She’d recognized the wine from a winery outside of Camden, which gave her a bit of an unfair advantage. “It’s Prince Valiant red. I’ve had it before. Nice choice.”

  They ate and drank wine and argued over music. He didn’t like country, and she couldn’t stand hairband metal. And they bickered like kids over the better sport: soccer or football.

  “You’re not American if you don’t like football.” Alexis stabbed another scallop with her fork.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like football. I just asked if you’ve ever seen a soccer game.”

  “Yeah. The guys who are afraid to get tackled played soccer.”

  “What did you play in high school, field hockey?”

  “Football.”

  Ben finished his glass of red with a smirk as wide as the Atlantic. “For real?”

  “Up until my junior year.”

  “What happened then?”

  “I started my period.” Not one to normally blush, she scooped a glop of ketchup with her French fry and stuffed it in her mouth. When she swallowed it, she sipped her water and cleared her throat. “I grew into my bra, and then a helmet to the chest took on a whole new meaning.” Alexis absently rubbed her chest. His gaze dropped to her hand and she stopped the movement, slowly bringing her hand to her side.

  When Ben seemed to get his bearings straight again he wiped his mouth with his napkin and put it back on his lap. “You’re talking high school. I’m talking professional.”

  “We don’t see too many professional soccer games in mid-coast Maine. Football is the way to go.”

  “I’ll take you to a soccer game sometime.”

  Sure. The beautiful man was here on business for a week, maybe less, he didn’t say, and she’d never see him again. Like he’d come all the way to the middle of nowhere, drop godforsaken amounts of money for plane tickets to go see a professional soccer game. She didn’t even know where those were played. Nowhere close, she was sure.

  Needing to distract her mind from playing fairy tale games with her, she reached for the wine, still hidden in its own paper bag, and uncorked it. “I say you’ve stalled long enough. Time to pay up.”

  Alexis handed him the cork, curious if he’d sniff it like a candle, or take the time to inhale the essence from the bottle. She studied him as he slid it across the top of his lip and she imagined her tongue there, doing the same thing.

  No! Not that. She took a long gulp of her water before pouring him a glass of the white wine.

  “White. You’re clever.” His eyes twinkled.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I like you, Alexis Le Blanc. You’re a fun lady.” It was the sweetest, kindest, most real compliment a man had ever given her. She was used to the hard working, loyal, trustworthy accolades those around town gave her. No one had ever accused her of being fun though. Fun, she was not. Alexis was the looked-over sister. The one you called for help around town, not to hang out with or take on a sexy date.

  She poured a glass of white for herself and gulped it down, a poor attempt to squelch her pity-party, before Ben had even tried his first sip.

  He mimicked her initial tasting habits. A small sip, a swish, a swirl, and a swallow. His throat was a thing of beauty, long and masculine, and her eyes were two magnets drawn to it. She imagined what he’d taste like.

  Spicy. Chocolate. Sexy. Nothing like the wine she’d given him to sample.

  “Tell me what you taste.” Alexis didn’t mean for her voice to come out so husky.

  His eyebrow lifted, as did the corner of his lip. “Smooth. A blend of something unique. I can’t quite place the grapes.” He sipped again. “And a hint of melon.”

  He was good. A worthy opponent
for her. “France, Italy, Australia or California?”

  Hesitation filled his eyes, then he sipped again before putting the glass back down on the table. “France.”

  “Ehhh,” she buzzed. “Maine. All our grapes are grown right here in Crystal Cove.” The original harvest came from Italy. Her grandfather discovered a French blend and planted new vines, making Crystal Cove into a decent wine-producing vineyard.

  “You didn’t give me that option. I’d call that cheating.”

  “I didn’t say you had to pick one of those.”

  “Competitive much?” Ben smiled into his glass and sipped again. “It’s very good.”

  “Thank you. It’s a blend of Aurore, La Crescent, and Cayuga grapes. We have small crops of each. It’s our unique blend. Hidden Vine White.”

  “Clever. These are grapes I’m…not accustomed to.”

  “Looks like I won.” Alexis held up her glass in a toast.

  He licked his lips, a tinge of regret glazing over his baby blues. “Right. Dinner’s on me.”

  The swirling in her belly was something new. She’d eaten at Willie’s plenty of times before and never had a reaction. She didn’t want to think it was Ben’s charming personality or his smile that lit up the freaking room that made her feel this way. But she couldn’t help the little flutters of lust that tickled her belly and parts unknown when on the receiving end of his hypnotic gaze.

  They finished their fried fish, sipping the wines they brought, and teased each other once again about their choice in music. There were times when she caught herself flirting, and Alexis quickly tamped it down, not wanting to come across as needy or…well, flirty.

  “You folks sure the hell took your time. Gonna miss Duck Dynasty if I don’t get home soon,” Willie said, his coat and winter hat already on.

  “They’re all reruns anyway,” Alexis teased.

  “Don’t mean I don’t wanna be home for ‘em.”

  “Thank you, Willie. The food was excellent. What do I owe you?” Ben reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

  Alexis slid into her coat and bit her lip in amusement.

  “I dunno.”

  Ben looked at Alexis and she shrugged, hiding her smile.

  “Do you have a bill for us?”

  “A bill? Whatdoyou think I am? A cashier? I just cook food for people. Do whatever you want.” Willie walked out ahead of them waiting at the door.

  Alexis put Ben out of his misery and filled him in. “Willie doesn’t have a set menu or prices. It makes him feel like he’s working for us, and he wants to work for himself. We slip money in the drawer next to the silverware.”

  “What do I pay him?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  She was tempted to see if he was a cheapskate or a big tipper, but she politely averted her eyes as he peeled some bills out of his wallet and closed the drawer on the hutch.

  “Crazy way to run a business,” he muttered as he placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her out the door.

  “It’s not a business, he’s retired, remember?”

  Willie didn’t wait to say goodbye, too anxious to get home and into his easy chair. The taillights to his battered Ford were tiny specks of red by the time Alexis unlocked her car.

  “Thank you for dinner,” Ben said behind her, his warm breath mingling with the cold night air on her cheek.

  “Shouldn’t I be thanking you?” She turned, Ben’s body trapping her between him and her car. God, he was adorable. So different from the duds she’d dated in the past. Since he was just passing through town, she could afford to take a chance on him. Maybe. Possibly.

  “You introduced me to your family’s wine and showed me a little taste of the local color in Crystal Cove. I doubt many people get such service on their first day in town.”

  “Nah, all the tourists do. You just feel special because it’s the middle of winter and you don’t have any competition right now.”

  Ben’s eyes darkened at her words, which she had meant as a joke, not a sexual tease.

  “Do you treat all your tourists to a…private tasting?” he asked, his mouth dangerously close to hers.

  “Uh, uh.” Alexis licked her lips and inhaled his scent. Musky and sweet at the same time. She leaned her body into his, lifting herself on her toes, hoping he’d meet her halfway.

  And he did. Ben’s lips mingled with hers, resting, barely moving, taking tiny tastes with his tongue along the seam of her mouth. She opened wider, wanting all of him, but he held back, his lips tickling hers.

  “Ben,” she moaned and grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in rough and fast, pressing her lips hard against his. He tasted like salt and melon and grapes, and she wanted to bottle him up and savor him. Forever.

  Blood rushed through her veins making her tingle and come alive with want. With need. With passion.

  Two strong hands moved under her coat and rubbed hard into her back, massaging up and down her spine. She had to force her body back or she’d be dry humping him in the middle of Fish on the Wharf. Thank God it wasn’t daylight or she’d be in the weekly Crystal Cove Tribune.

  She wanted him. It had been too long, and he wouldn’t be looking for anything more than she was willing to give. Maybe they’d even have time for a second quickie before he left. It didn’t matter. She was horny, and by the feel of him pressed tight up against her, so was Ben.

  “Where are you staying?” she mumbled into his mouth.

  He pulled back, breaking the suction of her lips around his tongue and dropped his hands from her back. She would have felt completely rejected if he hadn’t rested his forehead against hers and let out a deep sigh.

  “Alexis,” he groaned. “You have no idea how much I want this.”

  Sure he did. And here comes the rejection yet again, the excuses.

  Story of her life. This is why she didn’t do the dating thing. Besides not having the time or the male resources, it always came down to the “let’s just be friends” excuse. She wasn’t tall enough. Pretty enough. Girly enough.

  Alexis Le Blanc was a good time, but never…enough.

  Tomboy through and through, she was great for hanging around with, having a few good laughs, sharing a bottle of wine, but never more than that. She kept her chin held high and took the rejection with dignity. As always.

  “It’s okay. I get it.” She would have stepped back if her car wasn’t in the way.

  “No.” Ben pulled her into him again and kissed her slowly, deeply. This time he was the one in control. His hands moved up her sides and cupped her cheeks, the pads of his thumbs tracing along her nose, around where their mouths met, and down her chin.

  “I don’t want to rush things with you. I…like you too much,” he whispered in her ear as he nibbled on her earlobe

  He warmed her from the core, and her head began to swim. From the wine? Maybe a little. Mostly from Ben’s kiss. It was so warm, so full of passion. The combination of musk and fruit, so opposite yet so right. So Ben.

  This time when he broke their kiss he hugged her tight. “I’m going to be in Crystal Cove for the rest of the week.” That was good news. “I’d like to…do this again.”

  “Dinner?” She asked, her face nestled into his warm chest, not wanting to assume he meant anything else. Been there. Done that.

  “Dinner would be nice as well.”

  “Oh, the wine tasting? I can give you directions to our winery.”

  Ben’s body stiffened and he rested his chin on her head. “I’d like to continue right here, where we’re leaving off.”

  “Outside Fish on the Wharf?” Alexis wasn’t one to talk about kissing or dating. Or sex. The guys she used to hang out with didn’t want any of that from her, and the few men she’d dated either only wanted that, or nothing at all. Insecurity burned through her all over again. She wouldn’t get her hopes high again.

  “If that’s what you want.” Ben tipped up her chin, those ice blue eyes twinkling with something. Lus
t?

  Maybe, just this time the gods were on her side, sending one of their own to her doorstep—or rather, town—to sweep her away from the monotony of her life. To add a little spice and excitement in her drab life. Not that she had thought anything wrong with it…until tall, dark, and handsome seared her with his sweet lips.

  “Or your hotel?”

  “If that’s still what you want tomorrow.”

  Oh, she’d still want him tomorrow. He was giving her time, making sure she didn’t rush and regret anything, leaving her in heavy heat. The man was pure evil. A sexual genius.

  “I have no doubt in my mind.”

  Or her body.

  Ben rolled out of bed and turned on the shower, brushing his teeth while he waited for the water to warm. The niggling remnants of guilt pricked his spine. Honesty was something his parents had instilled in all four of the Martelli children. They’d be ashamed of him for pulling one over on Alexis, especially since they had befriended her parents.

  Was it spontaneity or a sudden urge of rebellion? Whatever it was, Alexis had turned a switch in him. One he hadn’t known had been off. She intrigued him, challenged him, and turned him on without even realizing it. An air of innocence surrounded her and filled his lungs, intoxicating him with…Alexis.

  It was that first hint of a blush at the diner, and then the full-fledged one last night at Willie’s that monopolized his thoughts throughout the wee hours of the morning.

  Rinsing his mouth, he tucked his toothbrush away in his travel bag and rummaged through for his shaving kit.

  He didn’t know what it was about Alexis that lured him in. She wasn’t his usual type. Not that he had one. When a woman made advances and he felt an attraction, he would reciprocate. Simple as that. He was never looking for a woman to have on his arm or in his bed. They were always sort of…there.

  Even in the middle of Nowhere, Maine, he’d found a woman. Could be luck. Could be talent. Most likely it was his genes. With an Italian father, and an Irish as Irish can be mother, the Martelli household was always crazy, loud, and full. Ben was used to commotion, people being around, fast-paced action.