Page 27 of One Wild Wish

And maybe Sophia’s appearance was a gift. A way to bury our past and, more important, a way to get Rachel alone. Convince her to hear me out. Plus, she could use my help. I placed my hand over hers, locking her palm against my chest. “I need a favor.”

She flexed her fingers, and her nails bit through my shirt. “A favor because you spent an hour flirting with me, then blew me off?”

That hurt almost as much as seeing Sophia. “I want to explain that, and I’d like to show my ex, Sophia, I’ve moved on. If you play along, I’ll come clean about my shitty behavior and help you with the Cab tasting.”

She stiffened, frustration in the set of her jaw. Unsure if I’d made headway, I added, “Were you planning on tossing a green pepper in your basket? You can’t study Cabernet Sauvignon without it.”

Her gaze darted from the green pepper display to her basket, then back to my face. Her hand relaxed under mine. “You have a deal. But only because I need to nail that tasting.”

“Of course,” I said. Except she wanted to nail me, too. She’d admitted as much last session.

Not wanting to give her a moment to rethink, I placed her basket by our feet and wrapped my other arm around her waist, pulling her against me. “This okay?”

She pressed her breasts to my chest, a soft sigh puffing against my cheek. “Yeah, okay.”

I was more than okay. I should have been a mess, the acid left in Sophia’s wake still eating at me, but Rachel dulled the ache. She also revved my libido, my cock thickening at the contact. Sophia was examining broccoli, filling her cart, working our way. I focused on Rachel, the freckles dotting her cheek, the silkiness of her blouse under my grip. I brushed my lips over her jaw. Then I stole a taste, just below her ear, savoring the feel of her. She all but melted.

The woman wanted to nail me, all right, and the feeling was mutual.

A thousand emotions should have been warring, Sophia’s reappearance something I’d dreaded, but I could only focus on one: craving. Desire for Rachel. We were in a public place, kids hanging off grocery carts, men and women ticking through their shopping lists, but Rachel’s hips were pressed to mine. Her hair tangled with the scruff on my cheek, need in her breathy sounds. My resentment toward Sophia was still palpable, but holding Rachel close dimmed my turmoil.

Unwilling to let the moment pass, I whispered, “Your place or mine.”

Her hips pulled back. “Mine. But only for the tasting.”

She was full of it, intent on denying our attraction. Not that I blamed her. After the stunt I pulled, I was lucky she hadn’t kneed me in the balls. I opened my mouth to say as much, when Sophia passed my field of vision. It was now or never.

I gripped Rachel tighter, pulling her into my side. “Sophia?”

Sophia went rigid at my voice. She glanced at me, then away, then back again. Her mouth opened in shock. “Jimmy? Is that you?”

My transformation the past two years had been gradual. For me, at least. My hair growing longer, the first tattoo, the second, the nipple piercings—parts of myself I hadn’t realized I’d denied. Growing up, all I’d ever wanted was my father’s approval. I’d spend extra hours picking grapes, wave my report card in his face, date the right girls.

Until Sophia. I gave up everything for her, and she threw it in my face.

Here I was, a stronger version of myself in some ways. An asshole, maybe, something I needed to fix, but my confidence had grown. I may not have looked the part of the former heir to one of Napa’s most successful wineries, but I was finally me. I liked sex a little rough. I dug the burn of a tattoo gun digging into my skin, the sharp stab of a piercing needle. Sticking a tight turn on my Harley was a thrill. All these things I’d kept in the shadows were visible to the world, and Sophia barely recognized me.

“It’s been a while,” I said. “Thought you’d moved to New York.”

Her mouth still hung open, until she shook her head. “Jesus, Jimmy. What happened to you?”

There.Right there. That was when the hurt and betrayal resurfaced. Like she thought losing her had pushed me into a downward spiral. It had, for a while. No use denying that. As had my family’s actions. Until I stopped running on that hamster wheel. What she saw in front of her was the man I was supposed to be.

Dangerous? Maybe.

Pissed off at the world? Probably.

Someone who only relied on himself? Definitely.

Neither of us knew the other all that well in the end.

Rachel slid one hand into my back pocket, the other brushing my abs, just above my belt. “You must be Sophia. Jimmy’s told me a lot about you, and honestly, I’m so thankful you were brave enough to do what Jimmy couldn’t.”

“Excuse me?” Sophia curled her lip, a tic of hers I’d always hated.

“The proposal? Turning him down when neither of you wanted to take that step? We’re both grateful.” Rachel tilted her head and gazed up at me, locking me in her orbit. Her eyes were often expressive, indignation or excitement played out in shades of brown. Right now all I could see was love. My heart was pounding again, a syncopated rhythm, unfamiliar in its urgency, and I nearly crushed my mouth to hers.

Damn, was she good.

“Well, glad to see you’re happy.” The distaste as Sophia sneered at my new style said otherwise. She held up her left hand. “I got married six months ago. Rocco and I moved back to the area.”

Rocco put quite the rock on Sophia’s finger, but the jealousy I expected wasn’t there. No sting of longing. No urge to claim her, like when that guy had leaned into Rachel. Sophia had only ever wanted one thing from me, and when I’d lost that, she went digging for gold elsewhere. I was still pissed. Still wanted to scream and tell her she was nothing but a conniving bitch. That what she did had twisted my heart. But creating a scene wouldn’t be cool with our audience, and Rachel’s arms made the whole fiasco easier to bear.

“Congratulations,” I offered instead. “Like Rachel said, thanks for what you did. Everything worked out for the best.”

An insincere smile flitted across her face, then she moved on, a sway to her hips I used to love. Time healed some wounds.

Rachel pushed away from me, all looks of love gone. “Let’s get shopping.”

We grabbed spices, fruits, vegetables, and a few bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon, no physical contact between us, my mind spinning the whole while. Each time it returned to Sophia, I clamped my jaw and switched tracks. Without Rachel pressed against me, my spite resurfaced.

I never let myself think about Sophia. She’d used me, fucked me over, and I’d fallen for her crap. Suppressing my thoughts was survival, pure and simple.

Then there was Rachel. The adoration on her face before, although an act, buffed the hard edges I’d sharpened the past two years. I was happy on my own, had promised myself I’d never fall in love again. Leave no one to derail my life but me. Still, that look. I could live without my family, get along without the winery, but around her, my heart suddenly craved more.