A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Tue, 20 Jun 2023 02:20:57 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Unfortunately Yours (A Vine Mess #2) Read Online Tessa Bailey http://www.ilovenovels.com/unfortunately-yours-a-vine-mess-2-read-online-tessa-bailey Tue, 20 Jun 2023 02:20:57 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/unfortunately-yours-a-vine-mess-2-read-online-tessa-bailey Genre: Contemporary Authors: Tessa Bailey Series: A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)

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A down-on-her-luck Napa heiress suggests a mutually beneficial marriage of convenience to a man she can't stand... only to discover there's a fine line between love and hate.

After losing her job and her fiancé in one fell swoop, Natalie Vos returned home to lick her wounds. A few months later, she's sufficiently drowned her sorrows in cabernet and she's ready to get back on her feet. She just needs her trust fund to finance her new business venture. Unfortunately, the terms require she marry before she can have the money. And well, dumped, remember? But Natalie is desperate enough to propose to a man who makes her want to kill him--and kiss him, in equal measure.

August Cates may own a vineyard, but he doesn't know jack about making wine. He's determined to do his late best friend proud, no matter what it takes. Except his tasting room is empty, his wine is disgusting (seriously, he once saw someone gag), and his buddy's legacy is circling the drain. No bank will give him the loan he needs to turn the business around... and then the gorgeous, feisty heiress knocks on his door. Natalie has haunted his dreams since the moment they met, but their sizzling chemistry immediately morphed into simmering insults.

Now, a quickie marriage could help them both. A sham wedding, a few weeks living under the same roof, and then they can go their separate ways--assuming they make it out alive. How hard could it be? There's just one thing they didn't account for: their unfortunate, unbearable, undeniable attraction.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

For as long as August Cates could remember, his dick had ruined everything.

In seventh grade, he’d gotten a hard-on during a pep rally while standing in front of the entire school in football pants. Since his classmates couldn’t openly call him Woody in the presence of their teachers, they’d called him Tom Hanks, instead. It stuck all through high school. To this day, he cringed at the very mention of Toy Story.

Trust your gut, son.

His navy commander father had always said that to him. In fact, that was pretty much all he’d ever said, by way of advice. Everything else constituted a direct order. Problem was, August tended to need a little more instruction. A diagram, if possible. He wasn’t a get-it-right-on-the-first-try type of man. Which was probably why he’d mistaken his “gut” for his dick.

Meaning, he’d translated his father’s advice into . . .

Trust your dick, son.

August straightened the wineglass in front of him in order to forgo adjusting the appendage in question. The glass sat on a silver tray, seconds from being carried to the panel of judges. Currently, the three smug elitists were sipping a Cabernet offering that had been entered into the Bouquets and Beginners competition by another local vintner. The crowd of Napa Valley wine snobs leaned forward in their folding chairs to hear the critique from one judge in particular.

Natalie Vos.

The daughter of a legendary winemaker.

Vos Vineyard heiress and all-around plague on his fucking sanity.

August watched her full lips perch on the edge of the glass. They were painted a kind of lush plum color today. They matched the silk blouse she wore tucked into a leather skirt and he swore to God, he could feel the crush of that leather in his palms. Could feel his fingertips raking down her bare legs to remove those high heels with spikes on the toes. Not for the first time—no, incredibly far from the first time—he mentally kicked himself in the ass for sabotaging his chances of taking Natalie Vos to bed. She wouldn’t touch him through a hazmat suit now, and she’d told him as much umpteen times.

His chances of winning this contest didn’t bode well.

Not only because he and Natalie Vos were enemies, but because his wine sucked big sweaty donkey balls. Everyone knew it. Hell, August knew it. The only one to call him out on it, however, was preparing to deliver her verdict to the audience.

“Color is rich, if a bit light. Notes of tobacco in front. Citrus aftertaste. Veering toward acidic, but . . .” She held the wine up to the sun and studied it through the glass. “Overall very enjoyable. Admirable for a two-year-old winery.”

Murmurs and golf claps all around from the audience.

The winemaker thanked the judges. He actually bowed to Natalie while retrieving his glass and August couldn’t stifle an eye roll to save his life. Unfortunately, Natalie caught the action and raised a perfect black brow, signaling August forward for his turn at the judging table, like a princess summoning a commoner—and didn’t that fit their roles to a T?

August didn’t belong in this sunny five-star resort and spa courtyard on a Saturday afternoon ferrying wine on a silver tray to these wealthy birdbrains who overinflated the importance of wine so much it felt like satire. He didn’t belong in sophisticated St. Helena. Wasn’t cut out to select the best bunch of grapes at the grocery store, let alone cultivate soil and grow them from scratch to make his very own brand of wine.

I tried, Sammy.

He’d really fucking tried. This contest had a grand prize of ten thousand dollars and that money was August’s last hope to keep the operation alive. If given another chance, he would be more hands-on during the fermentation process. He’d learned the hard way that “set it and forget it” didn’t work for shit with wine. It required constant tasting, correcting, and rebalancing to prevent spoilage. He might do better if given another season to prove himself.

For that, he needed money. And he had a better chance of getting Natalie in the sack than winning this competition, which was to say, he had no chance whatsoever—because, yeah. His wine blew chunks. He’d be lucky if they managed to let it rest on their taste buds for three seconds, let alone declare him the winner. But August would try to the bitter end, so he would never look back and wonder if he could have done more to bring this secondhand dream to life.

August strode to the judge’s table and set the glasses of wine in front of Natalie with a lot less ceremony than his competitors had, sniffed, and stepped back, crossing his arms. Disdain stared back at him in the form of the two most annoyingly beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Sort of a whiskey gold, ringed in a darker brown. He could still remember the moment the expression in those eyes had gone from take-me-to-bed-daddy to please-drink-poison.

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Secretly Yours (A Vine Mess #1) Read Online Tessa Bailey http://www.ilovenovels.com/secretly-yours-a-vine-mess-1-read-online-tessa-bailey Mon, 13 Feb 2023 18:42:15 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/secretly-yours-a-vine-mess-1-read-online-tessa-bailey Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Authors: Tessa Bailey Series: A Vine Mess Series by Tessa Bailey
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 103119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)

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A steamy new rom-com about a starchy professor and the bubbly neighbor he clashes with at every turn...

Hallie Welch fell hard for Julian Vos at fourteen, after they almost kissed in the dark vineyards of his family's winery. Now the prodigal hottie has returned to their small town. When Hallie is hired to revamp the gardens on the Vos estate, she wonders if she'll finally get that smooch. But the grumpy professor isn't the teenager she remembers and their polar opposite personalities clash spectacularly. One wine-fueled girls' night later, Hallie can't shake the sense that she did something reckless--and then she remembers the drunken secret admirer letter she left for Julian. Oh shit.

On sabbatical from his ivy league job, Julian plans to write a novel. But having Hallie gardening right outside his window is the ultimate distraction. She's eccentric, chronically late, often literally covered in dirt--and so unbelievably beautiful, he can't focus on anything else. Until he finds an anonymous letter sent by a woman from his past. Even as Julian wonders about this admirer, he's sucked further into Hallie's orbit. Like the flowers she plants all over town, Hallie is a burst of color in Julian's gray-scale life. For a man who irons his socks and runs on tight schedules, her sunny chaotic energy makes zero sense. But there's something so familiar about her... and her very presence is turning his world upside down.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Hallie Welch tipped down one corner of the comics section and peered across Grapevine Way, her stomach sinking when yet another group of locals bypassed Corked, her favorite, sleepy little wineshop, in favor of UNCORKED—the new, flashy monstrosity next door that advertised hot sauce and wine pairings in the window. The exterior of UNCORKED was painted a metallic gold that caught the sun and blinded passersby, giving them no choice but to stumble inside or risk vision loss. From Hallie’s position on the bench, she could see through the front window to their state-of-the-art wine fountains and wall of stinky cheeses, the cash register lighting up like a pinball machine.

Meanwhile, the peeling white wrought-iron tables in the front courtyard of Corked sat empty and forgotten. Hallie could still see her grandmother at the far-right table, a modest glass of Cabernet sitting in front of her. Everyone would stop to say hello to Rebecca as they passed. They would ask her what flowers were in season and which bulbs were best to bury in the soil a particular month. And even though she was always reading a bestseller, she would carefully lay her silk-tasseled bookmark in the crease and give them her undivided attention.

The newspaper in Hallie’s hands sunk lower, crumpling slowly at the vivid memory and eventually landing in her lap.

On the front patio of UNCORKED was a literal dance floor and a disco ball hanging from the eaves. It spun all day long, casting light refractions all over the sidewalk and turning people into apparent zombies who preferred wine out of a vending machine. At night, that ten-by-ten square patch of wood was packed to the gills with tipsy tourists, their purses full of overly pungent Rochefort, no one sparing a thought for Corked next door. Or outraged at the mockery of their very name by the overzealous newcomers.

When the shop opened a month ago, Hallie almost felt sorry for the young couple from downstate. Poor dears, sinking their hard-earned money into a gimmick. It would never attract the loyal Napa locals who honored tradition and routine. She’d been wrong.

UNCORKED was thriving. Meanwhile, Lorna, the sweet elderly owner of Corked, didn’t even emerge at sunset anymore to light the candles on her outside tables.

Hallie looked down at the shatterproof wineglass in her purse. She’d been bringing it into Corked for tastings every day this week in an attempt to support the failing institution, but she needed a better game plan. Continuous day drinking had started off fun, but the days were beginning to blur together, and she’d found her car keys in the microwave this morning. Supporting Corked with only the help of a couple friends wasn’t going to keep her grandmother’s favorite table from vanishing off the sidewalk. And it needed to stay there. Far too many pieces of her grandmother seemed to float away into the wind lately, but not that table. Not the place Hallie had gone with Rebecca every single Sunday evening since high school and learned the art of gardening. It had to stay.

So, all right. Time to play offense.

Very carefully, Hallie folded up the funnies and tucked them beneath her arm. She scanned the sidewalk for any friends or clients, then walked briskly across the street toward UNCORKED. They’d added two potted ficuses on either side of their door, beautifully pruned into the shape of an ice cream cone, but there would be no brownie points awarded to the UNCORKED crew for proper plant maintenance. Not even for lush, well-loved greenery. And if Hallie Welch, proprietor of Becca’s Blooms and St. Helena’s premier gardener, didn’t warm up to someone for diligent care of a plant, that’s when they’d really pissed her off.

Besides, the plants weren’t her current focus.

She paused outside of UNCORKED and eyed the disco ball, shifting in her rubber slip-ons.

Here comes trouble, said her grandmother’s voice, drifting in somewhere from the great beyond. How many times had Rebecca taken a look at Hallie and said those words? Hundreds? Thousands? Now, in the reflective window of UNCORKED, she could see how her grandmother might make that prediction based on her facial activity.

Two round spots of color on her cheeks.

A firm set to her chin.

Expression . . . diabolical?

Let’s go with “driven.”

Mrs. Cross, owner of the coffee shop across the street, walked out of UNCORKED with a bottle of some celebrity’s wine in hand and a paper bib around her neck that read Sip Sip Hooray on the front. She skidded to a stop and bowed her head guiltily upon spotting Hallie. “I don’t know what happened,” started Mrs. Cross, quickly tearing off the bib. “I let them add me to their text alerts just to be polite and this morning . . . I woke up to a message about wineglass rims dipped in chocolate and my feet just sort of brought me here for the three o’clock session.”

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