Kissing Under the Mistletoe Read Online Free PDF Page A

me to the market to buy the meat for dinner and some crazydestroyed my car. Santa was thrown through my back window, and they still haven’t found poor Randolph.”
    “You mean Rudolph,” Regan casually corrected, going for innocent.
    “The rest of the world has Rudolph. St. Helena has Randolph,” ChiChi said as two of her fingers moved from forehead to chest, shoulder to shoulder, while mumbling something about the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. “A cardinal sin, I tell you! They should lock that crazy up.”
    “I agree,” Gabe said, crossing his arms, which pulled his tuxedo jacket tightly across his chest. A chest that had absolutely nothing to do with the way her mouth went dry. “Don’t you agree, Regan?”
    “Yup,” Regan mumbled, polishing off her second glass of wine in one gulp, surprised that Gabe hadn’t ratted her out—and making a mental note to drop a whole roll of quarters into the Dirty Jar.
    “You two know each other, then? How
interesting
,” Jordan said with a little too much enthusiasm.
    “Interesting,” Gabe deadpanned. “Regan and I go way back.” His stormy-blue gaze flicked to her hands and back to lock on her eyes, sending a shiver down her spine. “Now about that dance.”

    “I’ll sit this one out, thank you though,” Regan replied with a serene smile, in direct contrast to her eat-shit-and-choke-on-it bat of the lashes.
    Gabe might have laughed if he hadn’t been scanning the room for his sister. Between Richard’s wayward dick, hissticky fingers, and last year’s grape-ravaging frost, Abigail had had to claw her way back from bankruptcy—fiscally and emotionally. She’d spent the first four years after Richard left in Santa Barbara, avoiding the family, her friends—anyone who knew what had happened, which was pretty much the entire Napa Valley.
    Then, two years ago, ChiChi convinced her to go in as partners in a new winery. With ChiChi heading up wine production, Abby designing the winery and handling the build, and a team of amazing women running the day-to-day operations, Ryo would become the only female-run winery in the DeLuca family.
    Abby had finally agreed, under the conditions that her name stayed off the paperwork and that she could do the preliminary designs from her house in Santa Barbara. Over the past year, Ryo Wines had become her baby, the project that pulled her through a difficult time in her life.
    Tonight was to be Abby’s big moment, her I’m-back-and-stronger-than-ever party. It was her chance to prove to herself, and to everyone else, that she’d recovered from Richard’s blow—it was
not
going to become a reminder of what a bastard he was.
    “Too late for that, don’t you think?” Gabe said. “Besides, they’re playing our song.”
    “We don’t have a song.”
    “No, but we do have an audience,” he said softly, his eyes going from his grandmother to Jordan and back to Regan, who was now looking panicked.
    “A dance,” ChiChi said, clasping her chest. “What a lovely idea. You two go catch up, and I will entertain Isabel.”
    Isabel, right. Isabel Stark was blonde, stacked, and the woman ChiChi had blackmailed Gabe into bringing as his date tonight. She was a head of the local PTA, heir to the newest cork empire in the Valley, and had her recently divorced sights set on Gabe, who was not interested in anything other than a good time.
    He looked around the room and found Isabel standing by the bar, looking entitled and irritated, right where he’d left her when he’d spotted Regan. At
his
party. Laughing with
his
family.
    “Thank you, Nonna. And Jordan, remind me to give you a raise. You did a fantastic job tonight.” To avoid his grandmother discovering just who Regan Martin was, Gabe extended an arm. “Shall we?”
    When Regan’s eyes met his, they were wide with understanding. Smart girl. She’d pieced it all together. Ryo Wines may not bear the DeLuca name, and he might not be allowed to set foot in their production