Once Tasted: A Silver Creek Novel (31 page)

Panicked by the wave of pleasure bearing down on her, she cried, “Oh my God, Reid. Please, I’m so close.”

“The best is yet to come.”

Had she not been on the brink of madness, everything inside her straining wildly, she might have laughed.

“I can taste nutmeg and musk. You’re addictive, Mia. I can’t get enough of you. But I want the sweetest taste of all, the one that haunts me. Will you give it to me?” he asked, already shifting lower and settling between thighs that quivered in welcome. “No wine this time. I want the pure, unadulterated taste of you. It puts any vintage to shame.” He spread her legs wider still. “God, you’re a vision,” he whispered hoarsely.

His lips closed over her, and she screamed from the exquisite rush of pleasure that swept through her. Arching into the magic of his mouth, she shared her passion, her essence, and her endless desire for him.

Rising to his knees, Reid lifted her legs and, wrapping them about him, entered her in a single powerful thrust. Joined, he held himself deep inside as she trembled about him. With infinite care, he drank the tears that slipped from her eyes.

Their hands linked, they began to move. Alternately guiding and urging each other, together they found joy in the gathering darkness.

I
T WAS ALL
fun and games until somebody lost their heart. And Reid knew his was long and irretrievably gone. Lost forever to Mia on the night of their impromptu picnic, when she’d taken him into her body, and her sweet cry had called to his heart and then captured it.

“Forever” was a damned scary word for a guy who’d always lived in the here and now. He was still coming to grips with the notion. But it was getting harder and harder to imagine a future without her. It was that simple.

A sudden flash of russet caught his attention. Sirrus spotted the steer, too, and Reid only had to close his legs and move his hand slightly forward on Sirrus’s neck, and the gelding surged toward the runaway.

Reid angled his body forward as his horse ate up the distance. Then they were upon him. It didn’t take long for the bovine to understand that Sirrus could anticipate his every turn and feint and wasn’t afraid to gallop right next to his massive body, so close that Reid’s chaps brushed the dark-red hide. Nor did Sirrus hesitate to dash in front of the steer, cutting off his getaway route. Spooked, the beast gave up his attempt and, braying
angrily, ran back to the slow-moving herd. Sirrus and Reid resumed their position on its right flank.

The sound of a hundred cattle pounding the earth with their hooves, their snorts and bellows combining with the men’s shouts and whistles and the yips of the two cattle dogs, made it almost impossible for Reid to hear his own thoughts.

It was why he was more than happy to be out here in the company of Ward and their dad, their foreman, Pete, and two of their wranglers, Frank and Jim. They were rounding up the selected steers to take them to the lower pasture, where they would graze until it was time to send them to market.

Ordinarily, Quinn would have joined them—she and Domino loved the work—but she and Rick, another ranch hand, had taken Mia and Tess for a trail ride, along with some of the artist guests who’d arrived earlier in the day.

The official start of the artists’ weekend was this evening. Tomorrow the participants would divide into groups, some painting views of the ranch, some heading over to Mia’s to test their talent at capturing the vineyard’s terrain, and some setting up their easels on the banks of Silver Lake.

The same steer as before cut loose, but this time he avoided Sirrus, running toward Rio, Ward’s gelding, instead. But Rio wasn’t tolerating any renegade cows, either, and the gelding made quick work of returning the steer to the herd.

Reid felt a flash of sympathy for the persistent beast. He understood the animal’s innate desire for freedom. Unfortunately, the steer didn’t stand a chance against their experienced cow horses.

Just as his heart didn’t stand a chance against Mia.

For all Reid’s professed need for independence, his heart craved Mia, in all her sweet-tart complexity,
more. Even the prerogative to bed another woman—or a dozen—had lost its piquancy. Compared to Mia, anyone else would be a watered-down imitation.

They’d covered about four miles of the ranch’s rolling meadows when Reid spied in the distance the last gate, which would bring them to the lower pasture. He drew his lips back and whistled, piercing the noise. The others raised their hands, signaling they’d heard, and he and Sirrus galloped ahead. The gate needed to be opened and secured far in advance, so the mass of bodies would continue to move forward. If the cattle were given a chance to stop, more of them might entertain the notion to head for higher ground.

Once he’d opened and secured the wide metal gate to the wood-and-wire fence so it wouldn’t accidentally swing and spook the herd, Reid loped back, positioning Sirrus where the gelding could block any bovines that didn’t feel inclined to pass through to the adjacent fields.

Fortunately, the herd was accustomed to being guided through the various gates on the property, and while the pace slowed as the formation funneled like cars on a highway with a lane closure, none balked.

His father, astride Kane, his big chestnut gelding, had moved closer to Reid, the two of them now taking up the rear along with Bo and Hank, Pete’s border collies.

“They’re looking good, these steers. We’ll drop hay down nonetheless to make sure we don’t overgraze the pasture and that their weight is maintained,” Daniel said. Decades of ranching had given him a keen sense for how much grazing a pasture could tolerate. In addition to raising certified organic and grass-fed Angus beef, the Knowleses also practiced sustainable farming. Reid shared his father’s pride in their careful stewardship of the land.

“I’ll let Pete know to drop bales,” Reid said, as the last of the herd passed through the opening. Already the
steers in front had begun to disperse. Their heads down and their broomlike tails swishing, they set to grazing on the two-hundred-acre pasture.

Reid guided Sirrus over to the fence. Using his legs to direct the gelding, he grabbed hold of the gate, swung it shut, and latched it.

His father had waited for him. Sirrus and Kane trotted side by side, Kane’s coppery neck bobbing in unison with Sirrus’s dapple-gray one.

“Glad to see your eye’s all cleared up,” Daniel said.

“Yup.”

“Everything’s working out okay with Mia? Todd Wilkins lay down the slabs for you?”

“He did a great job. It looks sharp with the tables and chairs. Thanks for suggesting we piggyback on one of the ranch’s orders.” They’d gotten a steep discount. Mia had been pleased, so he’d been doubly happy.

“Your mom’s idea. Mia’s a nice young woman.”

His dad wasn’t nearly as skilled at fishing as his mom.

“Yup. Mia’s going to plant some pink roses in the ground after the harvest.”

“And the harvest? She said the grapes will be ready for picking next week, right?”

“Yeah. She wants them to hang on the vine a little longer. The weather’s promising to hold.”

“She’s got her crew in place?”

“Yeah. Paul and Roberto’s wives will be there, as well as some of the cousins. They’re all experienced pickers and have worked the vineyard before.”

“Good. If she needs extra hands—”

“I’ll let you know, Dad.”

“Good, good.” Daniel paused. “Your mom and I are pleased at how things seem to be moving in the right direction over at the vineyard. But, well, like I said before, it’d be nice not to have this deal bleed money.”

“I don’t think you need to worry,” Reid said. “The
harvest is looking good, the wine aging in the barrels shows real promise, and I tasted the wine Thomas and Mia just bottled. It’s excellent.”

“That’s right—you pre-ordered a hundred cases. Thomas certainly knows how to make wine. You’re confident Mia’s got the touch?”

He grinned. “Dad, we’re talking Mia, okay?”

Daniel smiled and the lines around his blue eyes deepened. “Good point.”

“You know, she’s the one who thought of holding events at the vineyard. I floated the idea past Jeff. He got jazzed, to put it mildly. He immediately began to rattle off special pairing menus that we could plan throughout the year to showcase the wine’s versatility and the local produce. And I don’t need to tell you how Tess reacted to the suggestion of holding weddings there. Phil even jumped on the bandwagon.” Phil Onofrie handled reservations and helped with marketing and publicity. A techno geek, he was on occasion a bit of a prick, given more to grousing than to enthusiasm. It had surprised the hell out of Reid when he’d volunteered to get Mia’s website up and running.

“Just checking.” Daniel reached out and slapped Reid’s shoulder. “I’m real happy for you, son. Mia’s not like the other women, is she?”

“No, she’s not,” Reid replied, conceding that perhaps his father was better at fishing for information than he’d suspected.

When Reid spotted Mia among the group of trail riders returning to the corral, he’d already untacked Sirrus, sponged him off with cool water, fed him a carrot from Quinn’s secret stash, and turned him out with his best buddies, Forster and Ziggy.

Mia was riding better, he noted. She sat straighter
and more balanced in the saddle, and her grip on the reins was light, her right hand relaxed and resting on her thigh. He watched her body shift, following Glory’s rolling walk. Nice, very nice. Good thing he’d taken the time to give her all those private riding lessons. A cocky smile split his face.

“Hey,” he said as he approached her, when the horses had come to a halt by the barn closest to the corral. “How’d Glory go for you?” He waved to Al and Mel—ranch hands who’d come over to help the riders dismount and to unsaddle the horses—to let them know he’d take care of Mia and Glory.

“He was great. I can’t believe he’s only been here for five months. He seems to have the trails memorized.”

“He’d been an experienced trail horse before Quinn adopted him. But she took him out herself in the beginning to make sure he was dependable and rock solid. He’s been a great addition. Here, let me help you dismount.”

“Oh, I’ve got it.”

“Come on, are you really going to deprive me of a chance to put my hands on you?” She blushed. “I’m awfully sweaty.”

“That’s okay. So am I.”

“Well, then.” She flashed a grin and swung her leg over the saddle. Glory wasn’t a big horse. He stood about 15.2 hands. As Reid wrapped his hands about Mia’s waist, eyeing the delicious curves of her ass and getting all sorts of ideas for what he’d like to do later with her—perhaps in the shower, or over the arm of a sofa—he wished the horse were at least 17.1.

He leaned in a fraction so her body rubbed his as he guided her down. Even this light contact sent a charge directly to his groin. When Mia’s feet reached the ground, Reid couldn’t resist ducking his head, dodging the brim of the straw cowboy hat Quinn had given her,
and kissing her neck. Opening his mouth, he scraped his teeth over the delicate skin, scoring it lightly, and then licking it all better.

Yeah, she tasted salty. He’d like to make her saltier still and deliciously wet. Reluctantly, he stepped back. It wouldn’t be good to get carried away and start doing things that too many people might witness—his family, in particular. They had enough ideas about how deeply Mia and he were involved.

“Mia, Reid, how nice to see you two together.”

Busted, he thought, as he turned around and faced his mother. It occurred to him it was why he enjoyed being at the vineyard with Mia so much. He loved his family, but they were always around here. “Hi, Mom,” he said evenly.

Mia had spun around hastily, and he bet she was thanking Quinn for the hat she wore. He knew exactly what color pink her cheeks must be right now. He’d have given her braided ponytail a teasing tug if his mother’s eyes weren’t trained on them.

“Hi, Adele,” Mia said politely. “That’s such a nice outfit.”

His mother was in hostess mode, dressed in a lavender-blue blouse, a necklace made of chunky dark-blue beads, and a straight skirt. The skirt ended mid-calf, allowing her cowboy boots’ stitching to be revealed.

“Thank you, dear. And you’re looking more and more beautiful. Riding obviously suits you. You had fun?”

Reid bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing at his mother’s comment about how riding suited Mia. Of course, he agreed wholeheartedly. And Mia did look radiant.

“Oh! Yes—yes!” Mia stammered, her voice pitched high from self-consciousness. “It was great! I was just
telling Reid how nice Glory is. Tess and I rode next to each other, so we got to chat. And I met some of your guests—Tess introduced me.”

“Madlon Glenn arrived just awhile ago with her husband, Kirk. She’s the one who sparked Tess’s imagination for the artists’ weekend. Madlon says the instructors holding the workshops are thrilled at the prospect of using the vineyard. Apparently all those rows of vines are great for perspective. We’re so grateful you’re letting us use the property.”

“But of course,” Mia said. “Thanks to you, I’ll even have a place for the artists to sit.”