Allie took his offered hand and climbed onto the seat behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her body molding against his, and inhaled deeply. Fresh pine mixed with the scent of his body and the rich smell of leather. She couldn’t think of anything sexier.

Hudson turned the bike toward the driveway. Once on the road, they took off like a shot. Allie squealed with delight. The power of the engine rumbled through her body and she pressed her thighs tight against his hips. God, this was a turn-on. Why did anyone ever drive a regular car when they could ride a motorcycle instead? She giggled as her naughty thoughts answered her own question. Because they’d end up having roadside sex, that’s why.

The bike hugged the north side of the lake for a few miles before veering off into a more wooded area. Brightly colored trees lined both sides of the small lane, but the sun still managed to peak through every so often. Allie closed her eyes, tilting her face toward the warm rays. Her hands slipped inside Hudson’s leather jacket and splayed across the fabric of his black T-shirt. She loved the feel of his muscles flexing beneath her hand. She loved the fresh country air and the winding open road. But most of all she loved that Hudson was sharing something with her that obviously meant so much to him.

They stopped for lunch at a diner, eating greasy food out of paper baskets, and then rode to the winery Hudson had mentioned back at the house. Covered with ivy and trimmed in Wedgewood blue, Stone Creek Winery exuded an old-world charm that made it look as though it had been plucked straight from the French countryside. Hudson pulled the Harley to the front of the limestone building, turned off the bike’s ignition, and rocked it back onto its kickstand. Allie held his arm as she climbed off the bike, and had just unstrapped her helmet when she heard his cell phone ring.

Hudson fished the phone out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. “I need to take this.”

“Nick?” she asked. For a moment she was hopeful, but he shook his head.

“Chase,” he said into the phone. He turned his back to her and wandered a few paces away. “Time isn’t going to improve the offer. Their financial projections are horseshit. They’re out of moves.” He glanced briefly at Allie, who stood by the bike watching him. “Now’s not a good time. Deal with it,” he said, ending the call.

“Everything all right?”

“Fine.” He offered nothing more as he took Allie’s hand in his. “Ready to taste some wine?”

“Lead the way.”

Hudson led her to the entrance of the winery where he purchased two tickets for the tour and tasting. It turned out he’d been right about the building being a restored mill. Built in the 1860s, it had once housed looms and knitting machines, but in later years the cool underground cellars had proved the perfect environment for fermenting and aging wine.

After explaining the modern-day process—everything from stemming the grapes to corking the bottles—the guide led their group down a narrow staircase to a cellar full of oak barrels standing over six-feet tall. Small doors sat at the bottom of each barrel and the guide explained how these were once used as a means for winemakers to climb in and clean out the sediment. He opened one, asking if anyone wanted to try squeezing through the tiny hole and offering advice to the takers. “You’ll need to get in a side-plank position, slide in feetfirst, then one arm . . .”

“No way am I getting in there,” Allie whispered.

Hudson cocked a brow at the miniature door. “Good, because I wouldn’t be able to come in after you.”

“It might be fun if you did. Just the two of us, alone in the dark.” The words popped out without much thought, but she went with it and flashed him a devious smile. “Think they’d realize we fell behind the rest of the tour?”

The corner of Hudson’s mouth quirked up and he shook his head. Apparently she wasn’t the only one wondering what had come over her. He hooked his arm around her neck, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. “Tempting.”

The tour concluded in a tasting room overlooking Stone Creek. Allie wandered over to the large windows to watch the rushing current channel through the mill’s open-flume water wheel. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Reminds me of the Little House on the Prairie books.”

Hudson dropped his mouth to her ear. “Can’t say that’s the first thing that comes to my mind.”

She tilted her head to the side, almost afraid to ask. But as was the case with everything when it came to Hudson Chase, she was unable to resist. “And what would be the first thing that comes to your mind?”

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her hair. “Laying you out on a blanket creek-side and making out.”

Allie turned in his arms and looked up at him incredulously. “Making out?”

His answering smile melted her heart. “For hours.”

No telling how long they would have stood there grinning like fools if the tour guide hadn’t interrupted, directing them to the bar. “Ladies and gentlemen, the tasting is about to begin.”

Chapter Thirty-one

The tour guide motioned for everyone to get a little closer. “Squeeze in. We’re all friends now.” Hudson pressed in behind Allie, caging her with his arms as his hands casually gripped the bar. She tilted her head back against his chest and smiled up at him. That simple smile wrecked him every time.

“Pay attention. I plan to quiz you later.” His lips brushed her ear and his voiced lowered so only she could hear. “Answer wrong and you’ll get a spanking.” He felt the warm flush of her cheek against his and smiled as she began to fidget with her wineglass, a habit he’d observed when she was unsure of what to say or how to respond. She was given a reprieve by the start of the presentation.

“We’re going to start off with our Cranberry Blush, a perennial favorite around here.” The tour guide began working his way down the line, pouring a few ounces into everyone’s glasses. He stopped to fill Allie’s, then tilted the bottle over Hudson’s.

Hudson let go of the bar and covered the glass with his hand. “No, thank you.”

The guy continued down the line. “This is a sweet grape wine with a touch of fresh Wisconsin cranberry juice added to give it a nice blush color.” He reached the end of the bar and set the bottle down. “Well, don’t just stand there, drink up.”

Allie twisted around to face Hudson, her lips perched on the edge of her glass. “Aren’t you going to try any?”

“No, not when I’m driving the bike. However,” his fingertips caressed her cheek, “I do enjoy watching you.”

Allie took a sip of the wine. “It’s almost too sweet,” she whispered before proceeding to drain the glass.

He laughed. “Satisfying your sweet tooth? Here I thought it was only chocolate you’d crawl through fire for.”

“Hmm . . . chocolate sounds good. We should stop at the store and pick up what we need to make s’mores tonight.”

Hudson’s teeth caught the shell of her ear. “I’d like to lick melted chocolate off your beautiful body.” He heard Allie’s breath catch in her throat and was about to elaborate when the tour guide interrupted.

“Next we have our Waterfall Riesling,” he announced. Starting at the opposite end of the bar, the guide began pouring wine from a bright blue bottle. “It has a light, semidry sweetness and has won many awards, including the Chairman’s Best of Class last year.”

Hudson watched intently over Allie’s shoulder as she lifted the white wine to her lips. “How’s that one?”

“Let me take another taste and I’ll tell you.” She took another sip. “Delicious. Very crisp. You can really taste the pear.”

He smirked. “Pear? Such a sophisticated palate, Miss Sinclair.”