One fine Day
Janice Sims
To all the Amazons out there who keep holding
it down for their loved ones and for the rest
of the world! You’re magnificent women,
and you inspire me every day.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 1
Jason Bryant whipped the Ford Explorer into the parking lot of Aminatu’s Daughters and parked right behind Sara Minton’s cherry-red Mustang convertible, thereby blocking her exit. If there was one thing he knew about Sara, it was that she was a hard woman to pin down. This way, she wasn’t going anywhere until he’d issued his invitation.
He climbed out of the SUV’s cab, his long muscular legs flexing beneath a pair of Wrangler jeans. The heels of brown leather cowboy boots announced his arrival as he walked across the hardwood floor of the bookstore.
He noticed right away that there was another strange woman behind the counter in the coffeehouse section of the bookstore. Strange, in that she was new to him.
The rate of employee turnover at Aminatu’s Daughters astounded him. He’d counted more than ten new employees within the past year. All of them had been women and all of them had been brown-skinned. They worked a few weeks, and then moved on.
He made a point of speaking to each and every one of them in order to prove his theory that none of them could claim English as their native tongue. The woman today was in her early twenties, had dusky brown skin, dark brown eyes and a very short afro.
Jason walked up to the counter. “Hi, how are you? I’m looking for Sara. She’s here, isn’t she?”
“We have wonderful mocha lattes,” the woman said cheerfully. She turned to gesture to the coffee machine behind her.
“Thank you, no,” said Jason. He smiled gently. He couldn’t be sure, but he would wager that she was South African. She had the same lilting cadence to her voice as Nelson Mandela: a musical tone that was beautiful to the ear.
Upon hearing that he did not want a mocha latte, her expression became so sad that he changed his mind. “Oh, okay, I’ll take a small one.”
She smiled broadly. “Miss Sara is working in her office,” she said once the sale was under her belt.
Jason laughed softly. It was obvious she intended to earn her keep around there.
“Thank you. I’ll be back for my coffee.” He turned and walked across the bookstore section and into the hallway. The first door he came to was the storage room. The second was the employee lounge. Next, he came to Sara’s office. The door was closed.
He knocked and waited.
“Come in!” he heard Sara’s distinctive husky voice call.
When he walked in Sara was sitting behind her desk, and Gary Pruitt was sitting on the corner of it looking right at home. He was wearing an expensive suit, as usual. Jason didn’t think he’d ever seen the man in anything except a suit. But then Gary was the most successful attorney in town. He had to look professional. Jason, who used to work as an attorney himself, could recall how looking professional was a part of the job.
These days, as a gentleman farmer, his chosen title for his job as a vintner, he wore jeans or khakis and sturdy denim shirts. The last time he’d worn a suit it had been to his brother Franklyn’s wedding, which had taken place over a year ago.
“Am I interrupting anything?” Jason asked lightly as he entered the room.
“No, no,” Sara said quickly. She rose and Jason leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. Her smooth brown skin had a light flowery scent and, as always, Jason’s heartbeat accelerated as a result of being near her.
Jason straightened and Sara gestured to the chair in front of her desk before she sat back down. “Have a seat. Gary was just telling me that he and Kat are having a dinner party next Saturday night and wanted to know if you and I could come.”
Jason brightened. He knew he had no reason to be jealous of Gary. All indications were that he was happily married. He was a newlywed, in fact. But why did he have to spend so much time with Sara?
“If you can, I can,” he told Sara. Oftentimes, her schedule was packed tighter than his. Unless there was some kind of an emergency at the winery like a wine press breaking down, he worked only from sunup to sunset. On the other hand it wasn’t unusual for Sara to be called away at a moment’s notice.
He never knew the life of a bookstore owner was so exciting. He had noticed, too, that practically every time she went out of town, either a new employee arrived or an old one departed. There had to be some connection there.
“Barring emergencies, I’m free,” Sara said.
“See you at eight,” Gary said, rising. “There’ll be six of us and we’re having seafood.”
“I’ll bring a few bottles of our best Chardonnay,” Jason offered.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Gary said with sincerity. The Bryant Chardonnay was among the most delicious in the wine world.
He and Jason shook hands, and Gary left.
Sara got up to go sit on Jason’s lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bent her head and kissed him on the cheek. Then lower, at the corner of his full, sensual mouth.
Jason regarded her suspiciously through slits. “Are you ever going to get down to business? Because I could be doing something fascinating like watching grapes grow.”
“When I’m good and ready,” Sara said, smiling. She enjoyed taking her time, kissing his face and neck before getting to his mouth. Anticipation was titillating to her.
She could feel Jason’s state of arousal on her bottom. Patience wasn’t his strong suit. But she’d known that about him before she’d taken him into her bed. She had known that sometime soon after they’d become intimate he would want a commitment from her.
Jason had made changes in the past year and a half. And those changes had not come easily for him. Formerly a sought-after divorce attorney in Bakersfield, he’d moved back home to the quaint town of Glen Ellen to take over his family’s winery. He’d made sacrifices to do it. Among them, a freewheeling life of revolving-door relationships in which the only thing that interested him about a woman was how attractive she was and how good she was in bed.
Surprisingly, he didn’t miss the women. Perhaps if he’d made an effort to develop a genuine relationship with any of them, he would. But he’d avoided anything serious. You couldn’t miss what you’d never had.
Now, though, he knew what he wanted. He wanted a good woman in his life. He wanted children with