favorite time of the evening. Her
schedule was perfect because she was always home to enjoy this. Setting her
glass of wine down on the little glass table near her lounger, she opened her
book to where her engraved silver bookmark had been placed. There was nothing like
getting oneself lost in someone else’s problems.
The sound of a distant chime reached her. Her doorbell? JJ frowned as it rang
again and again, becoming more insistent. She leaned forward on her lounger and
listened intently. It was her doorbell. Maybe
it was Ambra. Her friend had seemed a bit troubled lately. Since JJ had left
her cell phone in her purse on the couch of her living room, if Ambra had
texted or called she was coming over, then JJ had missed it. Maybe Ambra was
ready to talk and finally spill what was bothering her.
Worried, JJ rushed to the front door. Book still in one
hand, she unlocked and opened the door with the other. “Where’s the fire? Jeeze!”
she said.
“No, fire. But this pizza is gonna be cold,” Cruz said. “You
took so long answering the damn door I thought you were ignoring me on purpose.”
He shook a bottle of red wine he held in his other hand. A slow sexy smile
spread across his face. “Peace?”
JJ’s jaw dropped. Was that a bottle of Château Lafite Rothschild Pauillac 1996 ? It was almost three
hundred dollars a bottle depending on if and where one could find it. Once
dubbed “The King’s Wine” after a French politician gave some to King Louis XV,
it became a court favorite. She shook her head, amazed.
JJ glanced at Cruz. He was dressed casually in flip-flops,
khaki cargo shorts and a short sleeved blue-and-white-striped Armani polo shirt.
His jet black hair was damp from a recent shower, and his spicy aftershave
mingled with the mouthwatering smell of the pizza. His gaze swept her from head
to toe with a deep intensity. Suddenly, she wished she had more on then her
cutoff blue jean shorts and scanty spaghetti-strap white tank top. Her stomach
grumbled even as she dug her bare toes into the carpet, speechless.
“Well, your stomach wants to let me in,” Cruz joked. Uncertainty
clouded his gray eyes. “Maybe I should’ve called…”
Heat flamed JJ’s cheeks. “No,” JJ began, hesitant. “Ah, yes,
actually. You should have, Cruz,” she said, finding her wits at last.
His jaw tightened. “You don’t want to date me because we
work together. I get it,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t share a
pizza and a glass of wine. Talk about our busy day. Does it?”
JJ’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. He was right. She didn’t
have to be a complete hard-ass. Stepping back, she opened the door wider,
allowing him entry, and smiled. “Did you know that Lafite was prescribed that
particular wine as a tonic?”
“That was random.” Cruz laughed as he swept passed her.
The deep rumble sent little quivers along her spine. Suddenly,
letting him inside seemed the worst of ideas.
“Still full of all kinds of trivia, I see. I remember when
you used to spout all kinds of interesting stuff. You made me and Jett look
completely stupid most of the time,” he said.
Her foyer opened to the high vaulted ceilings of the living
room and a large, open kitchen with maple cabinets. Cruz placed the pizza box
and wine on the granite countertop of the center island. He picked up the
merlot she’d just opened which still sat uncorked on the counter along with a Triscuit
box. “Looks like we both had the same idea.” A wicked grin lit up his handsome
face. “Except Rosati’s deep dish meat combo beats your box of crackers.”
The fact that he remembered she loved all sorts of trivia
turned her insides to goo. She sighed. “Can’t argue there,” JJ agreed. “And
your wine beats mine hands down.” She slipped her bookmark between the unread
pages and tossed her book onto the countertop. “I was enjoying the sunset out
back. Do you want to eat on the patio?”
“Sure.”
JJ handed him a
schedule was perfect because she was always home to enjoy this. Setting her
glass of wine down on the little glass table near her lounger, she opened her
book to where her engraved silver bookmark had been placed. There was nothing like
getting oneself lost in someone else’s problems.
The sound of a distant chime reached her. Her doorbell? JJ frowned as it rang
again and again, becoming more insistent. She leaned forward on her lounger and
listened intently. It was her doorbell. Maybe
it was Ambra. Her friend had seemed a bit troubled lately. Since JJ had left
her cell phone in her purse on the couch of her living room, if Ambra had
texted or called she was coming over, then JJ had missed it. Maybe Ambra was
ready to talk and finally spill what was bothering her.
Worried, JJ rushed to the front door. Book still in one
hand, she unlocked and opened the door with the other. “Where’s the fire? Jeeze!”
she said.
“No, fire. But this pizza is gonna be cold,” Cruz said. “You
took so long answering the damn door I thought you were ignoring me on purpose.”
He shook a bottle of red wine he held in his other hand. A slow sexy smile
spread across his face. “Peace?”
JJ’s jaw dropped. Was that a bottle of Château Lafite Rothschild Pauillac 1996 ? It was almost three
hundred dollars a bottle depending on if and where one could find it. Once
dubbed “The King’s Wine” after a French politician gave some to King Louis XV,
it became a court favorite. She shook her head, amazed.
JJ glanced at Cruz. He was dressed casually in flip-flops,
khaki cargo shorts and a short sleeved blue-and-white-striped Armani polo shirt.
His jet black hair was damp from a recent shower, and his spicy aftershave
mingled with the mouthwatering smell of the pizza. His gaze swept her from head
to toe with a deep intensity. Suddenly, she wished she had more on then her
cutoff blue jean shorts and scanty spaghetti-strap white tank top. Her stomach
grumbled even as she dug her bare toes into the carpet, speechless.
“Well, your stomach wants to let me in,” Cruz joked. Uncertainty
clouded his gray eyes. “Maybe I should’ve called…”
Heat flamed JJ’s cheeks. “No,” JJ began, hesitant. “Ah, yes,
actually. You should have, Cruz,” she said, finding her wits at last.
His jaw tightened. “You don’t want to date me because we
work together. I get it,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t share a
pizza and a glass of wine. Talk about our busy day. Does it?”
JJ’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. He was right. She didn’t
have to be a complete hard-ass. Stepping back, she opened the door wider,
allowing him entry, and smiled. “Did you know that Lafite was prescribed that
particular wine as a tonic?”
“That was random.” Cruz laughed as he swept passed her.
The deep rumble sent little quivers along her spine. Suddenly,
letting him inside seemed the worst of ideas.
“Still full of all kinds of trivia, I see. I remember when
you used to spout all kinds of interesting stuff. You made me and Jett look
completely stupid most of the time,” he said.
Her foyer opened to the high vaulted ceilings of the living
room and a large, open kitchen with maple cabinets. Cruz placed the pizza box
and wine on the granite countertop of the center island. He picked up the
merlot she’d just opened which still sat uncorked on the counter along with a Triscuit
box. “Looks like we both had the same idea.” A wicked grin lit up his handsome
face. “Except Rosati’s deep dish meat combo beats your box of crackers.”
The fact that he remembered she loved all sorts of trivia
turned her insides to goo. She sighed. “Can’t argue there,” JJ agreed. “And
your wine beats mine hands down.” She slipped her bookmark between the unread
pages and tossed her book onto the countertop. “I was enjoying the sunset out
back. Do you want to eat on the patio?”
“Sure.”
JJ handed him a
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