They reached a door at the bottom that fit right in with the feel of the darkened stairwell—right down to the big gothic arch and the metal woodwork around it. But Nine could tell it was modern trying to look old. Still, it made a hell of an impression.
Drew moved out of the way, leaving him to open the creepy door. Turning the handle on the door, he was surprised it wasn’t locked. It squeaked open as Drew noticeably stayed behind him and let him walk in first.
The lights automatically turned on as they walked in and found themselves in a huge wine cellar. “Oh wow,” Drew said as she took a few steps in behind Nine. “How cool is this?”
They were both in now with the door closing behind them as they continued to take the place in, both completely in awe. “Who needs this much wine?” Nine asked, pulling a bottle out of one of the many racks and read the label out loud. “La Chapelle.”
“Pretty sure wine cellars are a standard in most of the homes in this neighborhood. People like us collect books and baseball cards. People in Sonny’s league are into collecting rare and expensive wine bottles,” Drew informed him. “I did a documentary once on wine country up north. People invest in wine as well. Like stock. Certain factors can up the price on wine bottles, and they could turn around and sell it for a profit.”
“No shit?” Nine read the rest of the label on the bottle; though it could’ve been written in Japanese for as much as he knew about wine. “Who’s Sonny?”
She turned to him, looking at him like he was nuts. “Lila’s husband. The Dodger’s star shortstop. The man who owns this home.”
“Ah,” Nine nodded, feeling kind of dumb, but Beast only ever referred to his soon-to-be sister-in-law’s husband by his last name, Sabian.
“Brad’s dad is a wine-investment enthusiast, but his cellar doesn’t even compare to this. This . . .” Drew glanced around further. Sabian even had barrels of wine stacked up in one area. “This is unreal.”
Nine took it all in as well, wondering if the guy was really into this or if he’d just bought the house like this. The guy might be a famous baseball player now, but he grew up on the streets of East LA. How much could his Michilada-drinking ass be into this?
But his thoughts shot back to what Drew had just said—about Brad’s dad. Something rattled loudly behind the wine rack, and Drew’s hand touched his back, suddenly clutching his shirt. Instinctively, his hand flew behind him and around her waist, pulling her closer to him as he fisted his other hand, looking around.
Something clicked by the door they’d just walked in before a humming noise started up. Still standing tall in front of Drew in protective mode, he heard her gasp. “God, that scared the shit out of me.” She laughed nervously, undoing the clutch she had on his shirt. “Wine cellars have humidifiers and whatnot to monitor the temperature. It’s probably on a timer and just kicked in.”
Pulling his arm around and off her body, Nine turned to face her crimson face. “Sorry about that.” She motioned to his shirt.
Nine shook his head. “It’s cool. Scared the crap out of me too,” he admitted with a shrug. “One-on-ones and even brawls are no biggie, but some ghost or any weird shit popping out at me might have me screaming like a little bitch.” He laughed as he continued to look around. “This place is cool but creepy as fuck.”
“Maybe we should get out of here,” Drew suggested, and she didn’t have to say it twice.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
They started back to the doorway they’d walked in from. The moment he tried opening it and he realized it was locked with no way for him to unlock it, he remembered the sound he’d heard from the door just after the rattling that scared them and he turned to Drew. “You think someone locked it? Locked us in?”
The immediate and adamant shake of her head surprised him. Clearly, the fucking door was locked, and she didn’t seem nearly as panicked as he was. “It probably goes hand-in-hand with the timer on the humidifier.”
She explained about how expensive it is to keep the perfect temperature in these cellars, especially one as big as this one. The last thing the owner would want is for someone to interrupt the humidifying when it went on by having someone inadvertently opening the door. “It probably locks automatically when that thing turns on.”
“For how long?’
Drew shook her head, and now she seemed a little anxious too. “Not sure, but I’d imagine for a cellar this size it’s probably at least an hour maybe longer?”
Nine patted his pants in vain because he suddenly remembered he’d left his phone with O. “You have your phone?”
Wincing again, Drew shook her head. “I left it in my purse upstairs with Charlee.”
Fucking great.
“Maybe there’s a way we can manually turn the thing off and unlock the door,” she said, already walking away in search of something.
Nine looked around, opening what looked like secret cabinets and shit but found nothing. He heard something open and close behind him then turned, and Drew was nowhere in sight. “Where’d you go?”
There was no answer, and he felt his heart rate speed up. He wasn’t kidding when he said this place was creepy as fuck and now she was gone?
Hurrying back to where they’d parted ways, he was relieved to hear her. “Over here.”
He followed her voice behind a corner where he’d assumed the cellar ended, but there was a door that opened up to another room. He walked in and saw Drew immediately. “Look.” She pointed at a cool-looking sitting area with four padded barrel benches and a table also made out of a barrel. “Worst case scenario we wait it out.”
“You didn’t find anything either?”
She frowned, shaking her head as Nine plopped down on one of the chairs. He nodded with a smile as his body sunk into the softer than expected leather padding.
“Connor’s cellar is a lot smaller, and he monitors the temp manually, but I do remember him mentioning he only treats the temp twice a day for about fifteen minutes each time. So I’m thinking, for something this size, an hour?” She winced, taking the seat across from him. “Two?”
Staring at her, Nine had barely heard anything beyond the first word of her comment. “Connor?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. Connor’s Brad’s dad.”
Sitting back in the chair, Nine scrutinized her for a moment, giving way to a pleased smirk. “So, I take it Brad is on a business trip again?”
“Um huh.” Her eyes bounced around the small room as if she might be avoiding eye contact.
Just like the first time in her car on the side of that freeway, Nine felt his curiosity piquing again. And once again, they had time to kill, so he figured he may as well quench it. “Does that bother you?” Finally, her eyes were on him again, but before she could respond, he added, “I mean it’s gotta suck when you get the time to do non-mommy-related things and your man is constantly out of town.”
“Not constantly.”
“You said he’s gone a lot.”
She peered at him questionably. “I did?”
“Yeah, that night in your car. You said he’s gone a lot. And here you are again at a party, flying solo.”
She shrugged. “It’s a baby shower not a cocktail party, Nine. Yes, he’s gone often but not constantly. He’ll be here for the wedding.”
Making a mental note of that, Nine moved on to his next curiosity. “You two living together now?”
Her head was shaking instantly. “No. Maybe if I didn’t have a daughter, we might be. But I need to be absolutely sure before I make such a big change in her life—our lives. Technically, we’re engaged now.”
For whatever reason, that hit him like a brick. Already glancing at her bare fingers, he glanced up at her. “You’re not sure about moving in with him, but you’re engaged to the guy? He didn’t get you a massive rock?”
Suddenly, she wasn’t as poised as she normally seemed, but after clearing her throat, her composure was back. “Since we’re not setting a date until we decid
e what we’ll be doing about our living arrangements, since he owns a home and I own my townhome, I asked him to hold off on the ring until we set a date. But that may be a while, so I figured we could hold off on moving in until then as well.”
A slight grin escaped Nine. “It’s been”—he counted on his fingers, remembering how almost five months ago she’d said they’d been together for three months—“almost eight months. If I was ever with a chick that long, I may as well marry right then. Any girl who can manage to keep my attention for longer than a weekend raises flags. She keeps it for seven months, I’d be toast.”
At first, she’d looked surprised, and he was sure he knew why. Once again, he was annoyed with himself. First, he’d made it clear he remembered her saying Brad was gone a lot. Now she knew he was keeping tabs on how long she’d been with the guy. But by the time he’d been done with his comment, she looked intrigued—or something. She straightened out in her seat but sat back, resting her elbow on the armchair and her chin on her fist. “Really?”
Nine nodded as his eyes roamed freely, taking in her simple but elegant white fitted dress that went down to just above her knees. It was hardly a sexy dress like the one she’d worn to the party where he met her. It had a simple conservative scoop neck and half sleeves. But it did hug every one of her curves. And he’d had plenty of time to admire those curves from behind when he’d seen her in the kitchen, pouring her drinks.
For a white chick, she had plenty of back. Hell, her ass was as impressively tight and in shape as some of Lila’s fitness model friends. And one of the ones here at the party today, Nine knew firsthand just how tight that ass was.
“You did say I wasn’t too far off with my assessment of you that night.” That sucked him right out of his thoughts, and his eyes were on hers now. “I guess it’s safe to say my guessing you were a player with no intention of establishing any kind of relationship with anyone is what I got right. Since obviously any girl who can hold your attention longer than a weekend is rare. Curious. What part did I get wrong because you said I wasn’t right about everything.”
She remembered too.
Nine would never admit how many times he’d gone over that damn conversation in his head since then. It shouldn’t matter what this chick had thought about him. It never did before with anyone else. Now here he was once again getting mentally snippy about what she had to say.
Choosing his words carefully because he was determined to snap out of this shit already, he pretended to have to think about it as if he didn’t have her comments from that night memorized. But he certainly wasn’t about to admit now what he’d meant that night.
“You said I had no intention of looking for a relationship. Least of all an exclusive one.” He paused, taking a deep breath when he realized he’d just quoted her again—verbatim. Dumb ass. “Actually, I think you pretty much nailed all of it. I guess I am that obvious.”
Her brows jumped up as if this surprised her and their eyes locked. Sitting up a little straighter when the stare went on a bit long, she nodded. “Like I said that night”—she paused to shrug—“nothing against loving the single life—"
“Never said I loved it.”
Nine bit his tongue, taking a deep breath, when he realized he’d once again jumped the gun in his reaction to any assumptions she made about him.
Clearing his throat before she started apologizing again the way she had that first night, he went on, “I just meant you were right about me not being into the exclusive thing any time soon. We’re just getting this business off the ground and it’s a lot of work. Takes up a lot of my time. Even if I was into them—relationships, that is—last thing I have time for right now is anything serious or exclusive for that matter.”
Swallowing hard, Nine hoped he’d sounded more like his normal self than the defensive ass he’d sounded like so far. But even this wasn’t normal for him and he knew it. Since when was he into explaining this kind of shit to anyone? Least of all a chick he had zero business hoping to impress.
To his surprise, her stoic expression eased up. “That’s right. Congrats by the way. That must be so exciting.”
“It is.” He stood up as he looked around. “But it’s a lot more work than we’d anticipated. We set the day of the grand opening for just a week after we got the keys. It was pretty much in move-in condition, and we already had everything set to go, so we figured one week to get it all going was good enough, but holy shit. I’ve done nothing but eat, sleep, and sweat this shop since we got it going. I feel guilty just being here. I have a lot I’m working on right now.”
The smile she wore as she’d been listening to him was a weird one. Now she was staring at him just as strangely. “Well, you know what they say about all work and no play.”
“It’s not good for the soul.” Nine smirked when he saw the surprise in her eyes. “No shit. That’s why if I’m gonna be stuck in a dungeon with a beaut—”
Clearing his throat, he continued to smirk at his near slip as he opened what appeared to be a refrigerated area, as opposed to the rest of the place where the bottles sat in crates out in the open. Turning back to Drew as he pulled out a cold bottle of wine, he smiled even bigger “Bingo. If I’m gonna be stuck in here on my one day off with all this booze in the company of a hot chick, I may as well make the most of it, right?”
He didn’t miss the slight panic in her eyes, but despite pretending not to be, Nine was feeling a little rattled himself. Refusing to let this get awkward, he lifted the bottle and read the label. “I’m no wine connoisseur, but I’ve had my share of good glasses of the stuff in my day. Can’t say I remember any of the names of what I liked and what was shit, but I know there can be a big difference in taste.”
“Huge difference,” she said, sitting up. Thankfully, she appeared more relaxed than moments ago and even smiled. “I’m a bit of a wine snob,” she said with a shrug. “No expert, but I can at least point you in the right direction. You like sweet or dry? White or red?”
“Well, it’s interesting.” He continued to study the label of the one he’d pulled out. “I used to think the darker the wine the sweeter. But then I got a taste of a white once, and it was like the sweetest I’ve ever had. Almost too sweet. I like it just in the middle. Not too dry but just sweet enough.”
She stared at him for a moment, her lips parting just a bit before she stood up. “Well, I’ll tell you right now, color doesn’t really matter. Both can be very dry and very sweet.” She stopped and lifted a telling brow. “And very in the middle for both colors. It just depends on your preference on the type of sweet you’re into.”
This had Nine smiling bigger as he peered at her. “Like I said, to my shock, the best one I can remember was white. So what do you recommend in a sweet white with a just a hint of tart.”
Drew muttered something he didn’t quite catch as she started toward the fridge.
“What?”
“You might like a white Moscato; although some think that’s still too sweet.”
She turned to face Nine, catching him just as he was taking her all in from behind. Of course, getting caught had never embarrassed him before, and he certainly wasn’t going to let it now.
“I like the dress,” he admitted with a shrug when she appeared to be waiting for an explanation about his ogling. “It’s very nice. Very classy.”
“Thank you.” To his surprise, she took the compliment in stride and went on with her wine lesson as she turned around and pulled out a few more she read. “You might like a Riesling. Like a Kabinett or a . . . Oh here’s a good one. Spätlese.” She read the label a little more thoroughly before turning back to Nine again. “Pretty sure this is somewhat sweet but not overly so. I know it’s supposed to be expensive though. So it’s good stuff.”
“Sounds like it’s right up my alley.” He took it from her, already looking for a bottle opener.
He’d seen a bunch all over the walls, so he quickly found one and started opening the bottle. There we
re plenty of overhead wine-glass racks as well, and he pulled two glasses down, blowing the dust out of them. Grabbing a few paper towels from a roll he’d also found earlier, he gave the glasses a quick cleaning before setting them down so he could pour.
“I’m good,” she said before he started pouring.
Nine glanced up at her, frowning. “We’re stuck in a wine cellar. You just said it yourself you’re a wine snob—”
“A bit of a wine snob,” she corrected him.
“Yeah? Is that like a little bit pregnant?”
She laughed, and like all the other times she’d laughed, he was distracted by that thing she did with her tongue. He’d been distracted by it a few times that first night he chatted with her and she was doing it again. She brought her tongue right between her upper and lower perfectly flawed teeth as her entire face laughed, and those blue eyes brightened the whole room.
They weren’t bad teeth by any means. They were perfectly straight and white enough; they just weren’t all the same size. Most noticeably her top side ones. They appeared to be just a little bigger than the rest of her teeth but not like a vampire or anything. They were just bigger and pointy enough to stand out, and as weird as it sounded, something about that was sexy. For a moment, he even wondered what her tongue and those teeth would feel like sucking and sinking into his neck.
Drew waved her hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he shook his head, feeling like an idiot.
“I said I’ll have a glass.” Drew smiled nervously, but there was something slightly off about it. Not like when she’d laughed so genuinely earlier. Obviously she’d caught him in La-La land again. Was it starting to make her uncomfortable?
Pulling the cork out of the bottle, he chastised himself inwardly for continuing to get caught zoning out. He’d seen other guys get all tongue-tied and twisted around girls. Nine had never been one of those guys, and so far, thankfully, Drew seemed reserved enough. Not like one of those girls who might call him out on his shit.