Kissing Under the Mistletoe (7 page)

And that his family didn’t fall apart
, Regan silently added.

This was not what she needed to hear. The more she learned about Gabe, the harder it was to stay angry at him. And the last thing she needed was to start feeling some kind of kinship with the man who had caused her so much pain.

She knew what it was like to lose a parent. More importantly, she could connect emotionally with how hard it was to be responsible for a family at such a young age. The only difference was that he’d had his grandmother and siblings and this town. After her mother died, Regan had no one. And just as Gabe would do whatever it took to protect what was his, so would she.

“I’ve been on the receiving end of the DeLucas’ games, and when riled they can be jerks. Ruthless jerks.” Whatever emotion was filling Frankie’s face went much deeper than childhood pranks. “Intentional or not, they blame you for breaking up their baby sister’s marriage. Watch your back.”

“If what you say is true, then why would you ever want to come here?” Jordan asked, and Regan shrugged off the slap of her friend’s doubt like a pro.

“It didn’t take long before everyone in the wine industry in Oregon had heard some rumor about me. Finding steady work has been really hard.” She swallowed. “So, when I got the call from my recruiter offering me the job at Ryo Wines, I jumped on it. I had no idea that it was a DeLuca company.”

Regan gave one last glance over her shoulder at Gabe’s table. He was deep in discussion with the rest of his party, who were all tall, dark, and seriously hot. If the identical black hair and dark mahogany eyes weren’t a clue, the sheer amount of testosterone wafting off the four men was as
good as a DNA test. That was the DeLuca clan, most likely plotting her downfall.

Gabe looked over. This time there was no arrogant smirk or condescending gleam. She searched his face looking for the truth, for some kind of explanation as to how she’d gotten here. She was used to his anger, but the idea that he would cause her to sacrifice so much just to make a point didn’t feel right.

“Ryo is a female-owned and -run winery, ChiChi’s brain child. She wanted it to be separate from the DeLuca umbrella. But it’s still a DeLuca company.” Jordan’s face softened. “The DeLucas pretty much run the valley, Regan. There have to be other places you could move.”

Regan pulled out the letter she’d kept in her purse all week, the one she’d reread after every devastating blow. It was the same one that Holly had asked her to mail, that she had opened at the cost of a quarter for spying, and that held the words which made moving to a new town impossible.

She stared at the rudimentary letters and, with a sigh, slid it across the table. Even upside down they made her heart hurt for the little girl who had already missed out on so much.

Dear Santa,

I know youre really busy so you dont have to brings me anything this year cuz I already gots what I wanted. A forever home with my own room and a yard that gots grass and a best friend Lauren. She loves kittys almost as much as me. If you wants you can come to the St. Helena
Community Christmas Muzikal cuz each kid gets two tickets. I hope I get to play Christmas Kitty and purr. Mrs. Dee says I purr really good.

Merry Christmas,
Holly Martin
St. Helena, California

“Oh, honey.” Jordan patted Regan’s hand. Not that Regan made a point of using her daughter for sympathy, but in this case, she’d make an exception. “And here I thought keeping Ava a virgin until Christmas was going to take a Christmas miracle.”

“Miracle or not, Holly is going to grow up here. She is going to play with her new friend. And there is no way I am letting that man chase me out of town. I want this Christmas to be perfect for Holly. Last year we didn’t even have a tree.”

“Which is why if I could hire you, I would. Just to stick it to the DeLucas,” Frankie said, way too loud. “But my family outsourced all of our marketing to a company in France a few years ago. It’s cheaper than having someone in-house.”

Regan was devastated. She had been sure that having drinks with the DeLucas’ biggest competition, combined with Jordan’s stellar recommendation, would guarantee her the job. Problem was, there was no job to be guaranteed.

Which brought up a whole new problem: in the Valley, no job meant no willing landlords. Regan had to fix one mess before she could fix the other.

“Working for the Baudouins would be like firing the first shot,” Jordan reasoned. “If Regan is going to make a life for
herself here, she has to find a way to get on Gabe’s good side. If the head DeLuca accepts her, then the town will follow.”

Jordan turned to Regan, her expression serious, exposing just how difficult a task this was going to be. “The DeLucas’ reach goes a lot further than wine here, Regan. They own half the businesses in town. And what they don’t own, their friends do or they’re on the board.” Like ChiChi reigning supreme over Holly’s school. God, what a mess. “You going to war with him publicly will only hurt
your
family, not his.”

Jordan was right. And as far as Regan was concerned, Holly had already suffered enough. So if it meant Regan had to let go of the anger and resentment and the dream that involved her knee and his nuts, then so be it.

“Okay, get Gabe to tolerate me, win the town over, find a job, a new forever home that allows kitties, and all before Sunday when I have to turn over my keys to that ass—”

“Mary over at the Barrel Buyer is looking for an administrative assistant,” Frankie cut in, saving her a quarter. “It doesn’t come with corporate living or a car, and it’s not as sexy as marketing, but it’s a job. I’ll give her a call and see if she can meet you tomorrow morning.”

“And you know you could always crash with me and Ava. The more people in the house, the greater the chance that my daughter won’t get a lump of coal and a box of condoms in her stocking.”

Regan couldn’t form words past the emotions in her throat. Not ones that would express what she was feeling, anyway. She’d only just met these ladies and here they were, putting their reputations on the line to get her interviews.
Offering her places to stay. For the first time in forever, she didn’t feel so alone.

“Oh, no,” Frankie said, leaning back as far from Regan as she could. “You shed one tear, and I’m out of here. I’m serious. I do not do crying.”

“I’m not crying,” Regan sniffed.

“Then what the hell is that?” Frankie’s hands swirled to encompass Regan’s entire face.

“This is the look of a woman who is too happy and too mature to take a pool stick to that behemoth, gas-guzzling man-truck in the parking lot.”

Regan could single out Gabe’s car at more than a hundred yards. Not a difficult skill, since it had shown up at every interview she’d had.

“And a happy holiday to you too, Vixen,” came a voice behind her.

G
abe dragged a chair over from the next table and dropped into it. This was his town, these were his friends, and Regan needed to understand that. “Thought I’d come over and see how St. Helena’s newest resident was faring.”

Actually, he’d come over to see if his brother’s plan was even possible. Not that he would ever sleep with a woman to gain an edge on anything. It wasn’t how he was raised. But Nate had a point. Gabe had met Regan once, and, six years later, he could still remember exactly what she had looked like, exactly what she had smelled like. If Richard kept in contact with anyone from his past, it would be her.

“Jordan, Frankie,” he acknowledged. When he looked at Regan, heat flickered. He wondered if she was experiencing the same stupid attraction that he was, or if she had a bad case of heartburn.

“Gabe.” Her smile was all sunshine and roses, but she spit out his name like it was a four-letter word. Yup, she definitely had it bad for him.

“Regan?” He feigned surprise. “I almost didn’t recognize you with that smile on your face. You look so serene and...tame. You must have called my guy.”

Regan pressed her lips tightly together, but he still heard a faint “Bah Humbug” come from her general direction.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting home.” Smile back in place, she grabbed her purse off the chair. Gabe was supposed to be winning her over, seeing if becoming friendly enough for her to open up to him was even a possibility. A hard task when all he wanted to open were the next two buttons on her blouse.

“Ah, and here I came all the way over here to buy you a drink.”

“Maybe another time,” she said, smile still holding. “It was—” She stopped, slapped a hand over her mouth, and looked at the other two women, who, eyes wide, cheeks straining, and heads nodding, were definitely sending her all kinds of signals. None of which he could understand.

Big surprise there, buddy.

“It was...?” He prompted her to finish.

“That’s all, it just was.” She stood, ready to leave.

Now
his
brothers were sending him various kinds of signals, all of which had a matching hand gesture. He knew the only way to play this was to pretend that he wanted her to leave. So he leaned back in his chair, rested his feet on
her
chair, and sent his brothers a cocky nod before wiggling his fingers at Regan in a smart-assed buh-bye.

Game on.

Regan growled. Swinging her purse, she whacked his loafers off the chair and reclaimed her seat. She signaled the
waitress and looked him in the eye. Man, she was sexy when she was spitting mad.

“You know what,
Gabe
? I’ll take that drink. In fact, let me buy
you
one as a token of my thanks for all you’ve done for me over the years.”

“Ah, there’s the girl I know and love.” He sat forward and pressed his fingers into her forehead, pulling and massaging until he ironed out the wrinkles. His other hand tugged her lips up into a smile. “Much better.”

She swatted his hands away and was about to swat him in the junk when Jordan cleared her throat. Both women were giving Regan a reprimanding wag of the head.

Batting her eyelashes she leaned into Gabe and asked, “What can I get for you? Wine? I hear the new DeLuca Zin is fantastic.”

That’s more like it. She was set on staying. His friends were back where they should be—in his corner. The other DeLucas were all but high-fiving him from across the room. And if Regan leaned any farther forward, he’d be able to see right down her shirt.

Time to volley.

“Actually I’ve got a beer over at my table. I came over to let you all know that there’s an APB on one missing Randolph.”

“Wait, is he the brown one with the red nose?” Regan deadpanned.

“Yes.” Gabe leaned forward, making sure to take up all of Regan’s space. “He is also a treasured town mascot.”

“I heard about that,” Frankie said, her face scrunching in anger. “Some idiot destroyed the town Christmas display.
People are pissed and I don’t blame them. Every kid in town looks forward to getting their picture taken in the sleigh on Christmas morning.”

“I heard they’re offering a reward for his safe return.” He spoke directly to Regan, who swallowed.

He knew she still had the deer, and he wanted to put the pressure on. A woman like Regan would know something was off if he suddenly went soft. Plus, he’d seen her mad and he knew riling her up was the quickest way to get her to open her mouth. It was also the quickest way to gain information. And if he was lucky, it would win him another glimpse of those Christmas panties.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about poor Randolph, would you?” Gabe raised a brow.

“Why are you asking me?” Regan said, her voice close to a shriek. “I’m new here.”

“You
are
the town vixen.” He leaned in, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She closed her eyes and he watched her mouth silently count to three—make that ten—then she dug through her purse. She dropped two bills on the table for her wine and smacked a quarter against his chest.

He eyed the coin and smiled. “What’s this for?”

“For
not
saying, ‘Have a good night!’”

The next day, Regan finally composed herself enough to pass for a woman who hadn’t just spent the past ten minutes bawling her eyes out in the bathroom of a wine distribution center.