Last of the Summer Vines: Escape to Italy with this heartwarming, feel good summer read!. Romy Sommer

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СКАЧАТЬ hurried outside, anxious to check on his safety. Standing far back in the yard so I could see up on the roof, I shielded my eyes against the morning light to watch as Tommaso bent over the square, redbrick chimney. He had already removed the chimney cap and was now screwing a square-shaped chimney brush onto the end of what looked like a very long, stiff hose. Had he learned to clean chimneys from television too?

      He twisted the brush down the chimney, pumping hard to extend the brush all the way down the chimney. As he brought the brush back up, he coughed on the cloud of sooty black dust that billowed up.

      Just as well it was him up on that roof and not me. I’d already swallowed enough smoke and ash for one week.

      Partially silhouetted against the rising sun, his body was clearly outlined. Tommaso might be built bigger than Luca, but there was no spare fat on him. He was all lean muscle and sinewy strength. As he worked the long brush up and down the chimney, his arm muscles bulged beneath the taut fabric of his shirt. I’d always liked a man with strong arms. I swallowed a very inappropriate sigh and looked away.

      When he’d removed the brush and its hose attachments, and replaced the chimney cap, I moved to the base of the ladder leaning up against the wall to hold it steady. Tommaso came down the ladder rung by rung, his boots coming first into my line of view, then his denim-clad calves and thighs. The soft denim was worn into the shape of his body, hugging the lean thighs and firm backside that drew level with my gaze.

      I coughed and averted my gaze. This was Tommy, the boy I’d played with as a kid. I didn’t want to think of him in any other way. Especially in any way that would make me go weak-kneed or lose my head.

      Until the castello sold, or he bought me out, we were rivals for this property. Luca’s contract might call us partners, but we still had to negotiate the terms for divvying up my father’s inheritance between us. I couldn’t afford to forget that or go soft on him – which was most likely the only reason he was being so helpful, anyway. Either that or to make sure I wasn’t in his space any more than necessary. I wasn’t sure which of those reasons was most offensive.

      ‘Thank you,’ I said gruffly when he’d jumped from the bottom rung to stand back on solid ground.

      ‘Shall we get a fire going, and see if it’s working now? I brought some well-seasoned wood.’

      As much as I wanted to say ‘thanks, I can take it from here’, and as much as I didn’t want to owe him any more than I already did, I couldn’t refuse the offer. Reluctantly, I led him back into the kitchen.

      The dust cloths had done their job, though there wasn’t as much soot in the kitchen as I’d expected. The oven was thankfully well-insulated and would need little more than a wipe down, but the firebox inside needed a good brush out. I used the brushes from the big copper pot beside the oven to clean out the soot, while Tommaso carried in armfuls of piney-smelling wood from his car.

      He showed me how to build and start the fire, using kindling and air for an effective blaze, rather than simply piling in the wood. Then, once he was satisfied, he stood back, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. ‘No smoke! That should sort you out now.’

      The scent of the burning wood smoke definitely added a homelier feel to the kitchen. A way homelier scent than clouds of acrid smoke.

      ‘Thank you,’ I said again, meaning it, but clearly my tone didn’t carry as much gratitude as I intended, because Tommaso frowned.

      ‘Are you always this grumpy about accepting help?’

      Pots and kettles. I turned away to collect the armful of dust cloths. ‘Just out of practice. I don’t usually need anyone’s help.’ And two times in as many days was about as much as I could handle.

      Tommaso shrugged, his expression back to its usual surly look. ‘Well, that’s okay then, because I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Beatrice. True Tuscan breads and desserts should be baked in a wood oven for authentic flavour.’

      For Beatrice. Of course. The sudden spike of jealousy was completely irrational. I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from feeling it. I dumped the dust cloths beside the big sink and washed my hands. ‘I hope I haven’t kept you from your work for too long.’

      And why on earth was he still hanging around, when his expression so clearly showed he didn’t want to be here? Instead, he hovered just a few feet away, his presence so dominating he might just as well have been standing right beside me. I dried my hands on a tea towel and turned back to him, eyebrow arched enquiringly.

      He didn’t look at me as he ran a hand through his thick hair. ‘You should come up to the cellar. Take a look at the improvements we’ve made. Your father cared very deeply about the winery.’

      If my back hadn’t already been up, now it was. I didn’t want to see the winery, and I didn’t need to be reminded that my father loved the winery more than he’d loved anything else. And if Tommaso thought for even one moment that mentioning the winery or John was going to make me soft and sentimental so I’d cut him a good deal, then he clearly didn’t know me. I was practical and efficient, and never let sentiment get in the way of the numbers. ‘Thanks for the invitation, but I have a busy day planned.’

      ‘Suit yourself.’ He slammed the kitchen door as he left, and the shutter outside the kitchen window fell to the ground with a heavy clunk.

      I rolled my eyes heavenwards. Now what had gotten into him?

      I didn’t watch as he strode back to his car. I had bread to make, and bread wasn’t complicated like people. Bread didn’t have a hidden agenda, didn’t have an attitude, and didn’t get grumpy just because a woman didn’t fall for emotional manipulation.

      ‘So what exciting adventures did you get up to today? I could do with some light entertainment,’ Cleo asked. There’d been a tube strike, it had taken her hours to get home, and she sounded exasperated.

      I had to rack my brain for something to say. ‘I checked out my old playmate’s butt, and he’s actually kind of hot’ didn’t sound appropriate, much though it would cheer Cleo up.

      ‘Tommaso cleaned out the chimney, and I unblocked a bathroom drain. It was riveting stuff. Want to hear about it?’

      ‘God no! Not until I’ve had at least two glasses of wine. Have you heard from that sexy lawyer of yours?’

      ‘Nothing. Not even a text.’ Though to be fair, since the castello didn’t have signal maybe he had tried. I hoped. And then hated myself for hoping. ‘What’s been happening at the office?’

      ‘This and that.’

      Uh-oh. Cleo was hedging. ‘That bad?’

      ‘I met the guy from the Delta Corporation today. The one I’ll be working with for the next few months.’

      ‘Please don’t tell me he’s twelve and still has acne.’

      ‘Worse.’

      ‘Balding, paunchy and single, and already asked you out on a date?’

      ‘Nope. He has a full head of hair.’

      ‘So married or gay then. Oh well, that’s just typical.’

      ‘No…’ Cleo was definitely hedging СКАЧАТЬ