Crush on You

Table of Contents

 

 

“Christie Ridgway writes with the perfect combination of humor and heart. This funny, sexy story is as fresh and breezy as its Southern California setting.”

—Susan Wiggs

“Delightful.”

—Rachel Gibson

“Tender, funny, and wonderfully emotional.”

—Barbara Freethy

“Pure romance, delightfully warm, and funny.”

—Jennifer Crusie

 

“Smart, peppy.”

—
Publishers Weekly

 

“Funny, supersexy, and fast-paced . . . Ridgway is noted for her humorous, spicy, and upbeat stories.”

—
Library Journal

 

“Christie Ridgway is a first-class author.”

—
Midwest Book Review

 

“Christie Ridgway’s books are crammed with smart girls, manly men, great sex, and fast, funny dialogue. Her latest novel . . . is a delightful example, a romance as purely sparkling as California champagne.”

—
BookPage

 

“Ridgway delights yet again with this charming, witty tale of holiday romance. Not only are the characters sympathetic, intelligent, and engaging, but the sexual tension between the main characters is played out with tremendous skill.”

—
Romantic Times

 

HOW TO KNIT A WILD BIKINI
UNRAVEL ME
DIRTY SEXY KNITTING

 

CRUSH ON YOU

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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

CRUSH ON YOU

 

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

 

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / June 2010

Copyright © 2010 by Christie Ridgway.

 

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
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375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-18787-6

 

BERKLEY
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SENSATION

Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
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SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

 

 

Wine gives courage and makes men more apt for passion.

—OVID

If God were a woman, Alessandra Baci thought, holding her breath as she struggled to fasten the thirty buttons behind her back, a wedding dress would fit forever.

Knuckles rapped on her closed bedroom door. “Allie?”

At the sound of her name, Alessandra gave a guilty start, losing both that puff of breath and her grip on the latest pearl-sized fastening.

“Allie, let me in,” her sister Stephania called from the hallway.

Glancing at her bedside clock, she called back, “Not right now.” She didn’t want anyone seeing her like this.

“But, um, Allie, we have a little problem.”

No kidding. Alessandra sucked in another breath and tried a second attack on the buttons that marched up her spine. The dress wasn’t designed to don solo, especially five years and seven pounds past its due date.

Her mind flashed back to the first morning she’d stepped into the frothy layers. She’d been twenty years old and standing in this very bedroom, in front of this very mirror, but surrounded by her two sisters and the other four bridesmaids. A hairdresser had already pinned the jeweled tiara in her updo and the filmy veil had brushed her bare shoulders.

She’d been wearing a lace demi-bra that she’d foregone today, just like the veil, though the little crown was perched on her unbound, dark and wavy hair. Instead of the sheer, thigh-high stockings and matching panties she’d been wearing on her wedding day, this morning she’d left on her striped cotton pajama bottoms.

Still, she could exactly recall her excitement—the hollowed-out feeling of her belly and the kamikaze butterflies winging inside it—as she dressed in the strapless gown with its layers of tulle for the eleven o’clock ceremony.

A knock rattled her door again. “Allie,” a new voice said, sounding impatient. It was her oldest sister, Giuliana, joining the hall-to-bedroom conversation. “Look, we need to reconsider this vow thing.”

Alessandra frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the vow we made to Papa on his deathbed. We can’t—”

“A promise is a promise,” Alessandra hissed, giving up on the buttons to glare at the closed door, knowing neither of her sisters had the guts to say such a thing to her face. “A promise is a promise is a promise.”

“I know you feel that way, Allie,” her sister responded, her voice softening, and she could imagine Giuliana’s big brown eyes full of sympathy. “And I know
why
you feel that way. You didn’t get to make . . . well, you know. But we might not be able to do this.”

Alessandra pressed two fingers against her forehead, just above the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want to cry. Not yet. Dropping her hand, she glanced around to locate the white satin wedding shoes.

“Let us in, okay?”

“No.” This was Alessandra’s private pity party. Her sisters wouldn’t understand and would only worry if they knew that she annually dressed the part, then drenched herself in memories, allowing herself to feel every drip of romance before every drop of regret. “We’ll talk later.”

“Allie—”

“Papa’s been gone three months,” she said. “Will another hour or two really matter?”

“Every minute matters,” Giuliana muttered. “When we promised him we’d save Tanti Baci we didn’t have any idea what a mess he’d made of it.”

“He didn’t make a mess of the winery,” Alessandra spit back. “He . . .” He’d made a royal mess of the Napa Valley winery that had been in the family for generations.

She pressed her fingers to her forehead again, guilt adding to her mix of emotions. Of the three sisters, as the only one employed by Tanti Baci—Many Kisses, a play on their last name—it was she who should have guessed the dire state of the family business. But she’d been just as staggered as the other two when Mario Baci had confessed his concerns as he lay dying.

His three daughters hadn’t hesitated to swear they’d save Tanti Baci. They must! It was their legacy.

“If you won’t let us in, Allie, then you have to come out,” Stevie said. “Liam Bennett is here, and he has one of the bastards with him.”

As if that would get her moving, Allie thought, resettling the tiara on top of her head. The Bennetts were just another thorny issue she didn’t feel like facing right now. They were their neighbors and their competition . . . and despite an old feud, also part owners of Tanti Baci. Liam and his younger brother Seth had lost their father not long ago, too, and though the Bennett patriarch had left their family’s winery and other financial holdings in good shape, his will had publicly acknowledged two children who were the products of his heretofore secret affairs.

One of those “bastards” must be on a wine country visit. She felt a twinge of curiosity about the newcomer as she spied her satin shoes and slipped them on her feet.

“Allie . . .”

“I can’t come out just yet,” she replied, glancing at the clock by her bed.

It read 10:44.

Her sisters’ interruption forgotten, Alessandra’s pulse dipped to a slow thud, as ominous as a funeral dirge. She met her own eyes in the mirror, trying to push away the hovering dread in order to recapture those last moments of delighted anticipation on her wedding morning. She had been so happy. Her dreams came true.

Every year, on the anniversary of that day, she made herself replay those hours. The good parts included—in an effort to remember that life held moments of supreme joy. To remember, and to hope—

The LED flicked to 10:45.

Grief slammed into Alessandra, just as it had at that exact moment years ago, a bitterly cold wave that took out on its tide her happiness, her joy, and the determined belief she’d held in happy endings. Then, surrounded by her bridesmaids, she’d been told about Tommy and she’d shuddered in her sisters’ arms as her heart contracted to the size of a stone.