When they arrived at the ranch and pulled into the parking lot, Matt certainly didn’t expect to see a man with his hand around Alana’s waist leading her between two rows of olive trees.
Sophie unstrapped her seat belt and jumped out of the car.
“Alana! I have the books, see?”
Alana turned and waved. The man didn’t remove his arm.
“I’ll be back shortly,” Alana said to Sophie.
Alana turned to the man who slowly raised his arm to point at something in the trees and then slowly lowered it to drape it across her shoulders. They took a few steps toward one of the larger trees, and the man pulled his arm away and reached out to tug down one of the branches. Alana leaned close and laughed at something he said.
Matt slammed the door of his car. His chest tightened, and the muscles around his eyes tensed. His chest felt as though wasps were crawling through it. He rarely felt jealous, hadn’t had much occasion to become familiar with the feeling. But he damn sure felt it now. The woman kisses the socks off him and the next time he sees her she’s with another man, acting completely casual about it?
He swatted down the anger threatening to rise in him. Not only did she stir emotions he wasn’t used to wrestling, but she was wrong, wrong, wrong, and he’d better move on before he did something foolish. They’d made a date to get together on Thursday evening after his day game. He’d even considered the menu for the romantic dinner he’d planned to make since he’d have the house to himself. Now he felt foolish for even considering such preparations. He was pretty sure he’d be better off meeting her in the local cafe and telling her he’d made a mistake, that they really shouldn’t bother to get together since they were clearly so mismatched.
But as she turned and walked toward him and Sophie, the barrel-chested, cheery guy walking close beside her, a primal surge of possessiveness and competition blazed, and he knew he’d do no such thing. He’d at least have her before he cut it off. She wanted him, he was sure. He hadn’t spent most of his life learning to size up bodies and intentions to be wrong about hers.
“I thought you weren’t back until tomorrow,” Alana said as she bent down to look at the books Sophie had brought.
“Apparently,” Matt said, instantly regretting his biting tone.
Alana glanced up at him, and a sly smile lit her eyes.
“These books are wonderful, Sophie. Just what we need to plan the butterfly garden. May I hold on to them for a few days?”
“Sure,” Sophie said. She shot a killer glare at the man.
“This is Enzo,” Alana said as she stood. “Enzo, meet Sophie and her father, Matt. Sophie is one of our most dedicated campers.”
Enzo held out his hand to Sophie. Matt saw the debate in her eyes, but then she politely offered her hand. Enzo bowed over Sophie’s hand and brushed the air above her fingers with a kiss.
“Piacere,” Enzo said with a wide grin.
Matt suppressed a laugh as Sophie made a face and drew her hand to her side. When Enzo turned and offered his hand to Matt, he shook it, although he wanted to crush the guy’s knuckles. It didn’t escape him that he was behaving like a teenager.
Enzo took Alana by the arm, and the wasps revved up their wild dance in Matt’s chest.
“We must hurry,” Enzo said in a thick Italian accent. “The wine tasting is at noon.”
“My dad likes wine,” Sophie sputtered.
“Then you are living in an excellent region,” Enzo said. He glanced at his massive Rolex. “Ah,” he murmured as he began to tug Alana away, “there’s just enough time to see that painting you wanted to show me.”
“It’s a study for the label for this year’s vintage,” Alana said, as if her words explained why the guy was holding her arm. Alana patted Sophie on the shoulder. “Thank you for the loan of the books, Sophie.”
She turned her gaze to Matt. It was all he could do not to punch the guy and throw Alana over his shoulder and carry her into her house. Instead he held his face placid, as if facing a veteran pitcher.
“See you Thursday,” she said with a glittering smile before she turned and walked off with Enzo.
Sophie looked at Matt as though he’d just let the dragon walk off with the princess.
Maybe he had.
“Let’s get you settled in, Punkin. I have to head to the stadium.”
Thursday’s date had taken on a whole new angle. It’d be all he could do to wait until then to sort things out.
Sort things out, my ass.
The only thing that calmed the jealousy burning in him was imagining Alana in his bed, lost in the throes of sexual ecstasy. Ecstasy that he’d mastermind and render with exquisite control.