Beach Reads Box Set

by Madden-Mills, Ilsa

  “Exactly.”

  We finished our meals and sipped our wine—a Salishan Cellars chardonnay. Zoe put down her glass and her hand strayed to her hair. She did that when she was nervous, or not sure what to say.

  “When do you have to go back to San Francisco?” she asked.

  And there it was. My life in San Francisco was an enormous barrier between us. I wasn’t such an idiot that I thought I could ask her to come back with me. We’d been down that road, and it hadn’t ended well.

  “I’ll have to take a trip down there soon,” I said. “But there’s too much to do here. I won’t stay long.”

  She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  “I’ve been thinking about how to make things work long-term,” I said. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what the solution is yet. Maybe I’ll split my time between San Francisco and here, I don’t know.”

  “So you’re not going to just leave,” she said.

  “No.”

  She met my eyes and her subtle smile lit me up inside. “That’s good to know.”

  After dinner, I took her home. She looked at me with curiosity when I pulled up at her place. I knew this wasn’t what she’d expected. She was waiting for me to suggest she come home with me. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

  I walked her up to her door, and she turned toward me.

  “Thanks for dinner,” she said. “It was nice.”

  “Thanks for coming,” I said.

  “Well, you did coerce me,” she said. “But I’m glad.”

  I moved closer and slid my hand around her waist, pulling her against me. Her mouth parted, and she started to say something, but I ran my thumb along her lower lip. It was soft, pliant against the pad of my thumb.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Getting ready to kiss you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to,” I said. “And because we’re not having sex tonight.”

  She tried to step back, but I held fast, keeping her pressed against me while my thumb traced her lip again.

  “If you don’t want sex, why did you take me out?” she asked.

  I loved the way her voice sounded breathy and halting, like she was having trouble concentrating on her words.

  “I want more than sex.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t get me wrong, fucking you is amazing. But I need you to know that isn’t all I want.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “You,” I said.

  “Roland…”

  I leaned in and pressed my mouth to hers. Slid my tongue along her lips. All softness. No teeth. No aggression. Just silky-smooth lips and sensitive skin. Tongues that tasted of wine. I kissed her deeply, drawing her close, letting my tongue caress hers. Her body relented, softening against me. I kissed her with everything I had, because I knew from now on, every time I kissed her could be the last.

  Her eyes were hooded when I pulled away. I touched her cheek and brushed my lips against hers again.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. All I want is another date. Will you go out with me again?”

  “That’s all?” she asked. “Just another date?”

  “For now, yeah,” I said.

  She took a deep breath and I touched her lips with my thumb again. I wanted to keep kissing those lips, but I couldn’t overwhelm her. I had to be careful.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go out with you again.”

  “I lied, I need one more thing.”

  “Roland.”

  I smiled and kissed her again, just a soft kiss on her lips. I couldn’t help it. “Just one more thing, I promise. I need to know there won’t be anyone else.”

  “Are you tricking me into dating you?” she asked.

  “I’m not tricking you,” I said. “I made you a compelling offer, which you accepted. Now I’m extending the offer further.”

  “Always the businessman,” she said, her mouth twitching in a smile. “That goes for you too? No one else?”

  “Never,” I said. There would never again be anyone but her.

  She slid her hand around the back of my neck and drew me to her lips. Kissed me, soft and sweet. “Of course not. I would never do that to you.”

  I pulled her to me and held her close, my chest suddenly tight. The way she’d initiated that kiss felt so good. It gave me hope.

  “Do you want to come in?” she asked, softly into my ear.

  I squeezed her and pulled back. “I really do, but I’m not going to tonight. I think it’s best if I go.”

  She smiled and took my hand. Our fingers twined together, and she gave me that little smile again. “Okay. Goodnight, Roland.”

  “Goodnight, Zoe.”

  I let go and stepped away, the words I love you lying unspoken on my lips.

  23

  Zoe

  Two more days. In forty-eight hours, Victoria Jones would be Victoria Cockburn, and my bridezilla client no longer. Assuming I survived. At this point, that was debatable.

  She’d arrived this morning, appearing at the Big House even though we didn’t have an appointment until tomorrow for her rehearsal. But she’d wanted to go over every detail, plus tour the grounds again. While we walked through the back gardens, she’d picked apart the decor choices and layout—all things she’d chosen weeks, if not months ago. By the time she left two hours later, the inside of my lip was raw from biting it and my palms had fingernail marks from clenching my fists.

  Two days. I could handle Cocksmash for two more days.

  The bulk of the setup would be done tomorrow, but we didn’t have anything scheduled in the main garden between now and then. I decided to get some of the twinkle lights up. I didn’t always do the decorating myself, but today I wanted to be outside—and alone for a while. Hanging strings of lights in the trees sounded like a great way to kill a couple of hours. It would give me time to think.

  Considering I was dating my ex-husband, I certainly had a lot on my mind.

  We’d been dating for weeks now. We saw each other at work. Kissed a lot. Went out to dinner, or for drinks. He’d even taken me to a musical at a local theater. We’d had a blast. Some days we spent hours simply talking. Catching up on work. On life. Everything.

  And the sex. Oh god, the sex. It was better than it had ever been.

  But despite how much fun we were having together, a current of uncertainty ran beneath everything. Where was this going? Technically, Roland still lived in San Francisco. He seemed to be managing to do his job from here, although I knew it was a strain. But that couldn’t last forever. He’d been here for two months. His boss had to insist he come back eventually. And there was no way I was moving to San Francisco to be with him. I liked the city fine, but there was a reason I’d left. I wasn’t interested in a repeat of four years ago. Fuck that.

  Why was now any different?

  I was struggling to answer that question with something more concrete than he seems different now. But he did. He was. The Roland I’d left wouldn’t have stayed in Echo Creek this long, no matter what had been happening. He wouldn’t have discovered his dad’s affair. He wouldn’t have been here long enough to notice something was wrong. The Roland of four years ago would have shown up, thrown some money around, and left.

  But he hadn’t. He’d stayed.

  He’d been coming out of his office earlier and having dinners with his mom. Hanging out with his brothers in the evenings or on weekends. Last week he’d gone to Tilikum to help Brynn pick up a bed for her new apartment.

  All this from the guy who, four years ago, couldn’t have been in the same room as his brothers for more than five minutes without fighting. Who’d barely remembered his little sister existed.

  I was seeing the Roland I remembered from before San Francisco. From before he’d gotten so wrapped up in his work—in career advancement, promotions, moving up, making money, impressing the bosses. He’d measured his happiness and worth b
ased on his job title and salary. Nothing had mattered more. Not even me.

  The Roland I saw now cared about more than money. He was concerned for his family, and their business. Spending time with the people he loved instead of working fourteen-hour days. I’d seen him smile, and even laugh. His father had dropped one of the biggest bombshells of his life, and even that hadn’t driven him to bury himself in his work.

  But would it last? Was this the real Roland, and the workaholic I’d been married to had been a phase? A product of poor judgment and misplaced priorities? Or was he simply reverting to remembered behaviors since he was here, and the moment he set foot in San Francisco, he’d go right back to being the guy who’d do anything to further his career, even at the expense of his marriage?

  I didn’t know.

  We’d reconnected in a way I couldn’t deny. On a level that went so much deeper than physical. He’d told me more than once now that he wanted me. At first that had been easy to brush aside—assume he meant he wanted to sleep with me. But that wasn’t what he’d been saying.

  He wanted to give us another chance. And despite how great the last few weeks had been, I was pretty fucking scared.

  I was risking a lot by letting him in again. I’d given my heart to him once, and he’d tossed it aside. Was I crazy? Could a relationship like ours really have a second chance? We hadn’t just dated and broken up. We’d gotten married, and then divorced. That was serious shit.

  Times like this, I wished I had a better relationship with my mom. It would have been nice to be able to call her and tell her what was going on. Ask for her advice. I loved my mom, but we weren’t close. We never had been. She’d always looked at me like she wasn’t quite sure where I’d come from. And her advice about Roland would probably consist of You have a good head on your shoulders, you’ll figure it out. She meant well, but I think she was perpetually confused when it came to me.

  I stood on a ladder, propped up against a plum tree, and finished hanging a third strand of twinkle lights. I figured one more on this tree would do the trick.

  “Hey, up there.”

  I looked down to find Ben standing near the base of the ladder. He was dressed in his usual Salishan Cellars t-shirt, worn jeans, and work boots. He was a good-looking guy, especially for his age, with a warm smile I’d always appreciated.

  “Hey, Ben.” I climbed down the ladder and brushed my hands together. “What’s up?”

  “Can I talk to you a minute?” he asked.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “What do you know about… the things that have been going on?” he asked, his voice halting, like he wasn’t quite sure if we should talk about it.

  The winery employees knew that Lawrence was gone, but the details had been kept vague. I think most people suspected the truth, but respected Shannon’s privacy. They knew Lawrence had moved out and was no longer in charge.

  If anyone else had asked, I would have hedged the question. But Ben wasn’t just an employee. He’d been around since Roland and his siblings were kids.

  “Roland found out his dad was having an affair,” I said.

  Ben’s face went very still, but I could see the flash of anger in his eyes. “I see.”

  “Yeah, I know, it’s awful,” I said. “Shannon kicked him out.”

  “So Lawrence really is gone?” Ben asked.

  I nodded. “He went to his mistress, apparently. If he had any hope of fixing this, I’m pretty sure that killed it. There’s no way Shannon will take him back.”

  “I should beat the shit out of that sniveling little punk,” he said under his breath.

  I laughed. He’d reminded me of Cooper just then. “That I would love to see.”

  “Sorry,” he said, scowling. “Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t blame you.”

  He blinked a few times, his eyes focusing on something in the distance.

  “I wouldn’t worry about Salishan, though,” I said. “I’m not sure how things will shake out legally, but Roland isn’t worried. They’ve already talked to a lawyer.”

  “Right.” Ben’s phone rang, and he jerked, like it had startled him. He brought it to his ear. “Yeah? Uh-oh. Do you need me to call Chase? Okay, good. Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He ended the call and slipped his phone in his back pocket.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Bottling machine is down,” he said. “Chase is over there, but we were already a week behind on the bottling schedule. This isn’t good.”

  Bottling had to be done on a precise schedule, based largely on the age of the wine. If they were already behind, this delay could be costly—something Salishan did not need right now.

  Ben started for the work houses, and I followed. There probably wasn’t much I could do, but I figured I should see if I could help.

  The work houses were a short walk from the Big House. While the Big House was Salishan’s public face, the work houses were where the real work of winemaking was done. This was where the grapes came in at harvest to be de-stemmed and crushed. The cellars housed enormous fermentation tanks, as well as the barrel cellars where wine was stored for aging. Another building was the bottling facility, with a complex series of machines that bottled, corked, labeled, and boxed the wines.

  Inside the bottling room, Shannon was busy giving orders, directing people where to go and what to do. It looked like half the winery employees were here. I saw Chase on a ladder, hard at work on the machinery. Everyone else was busy diverting the flow of work to hand-bottle the wine.

  It was good to see Shannon in her element. She looked good. Tough. I wasn’t sure how she was doing underneath it all, but I was proud of her for being here and taking charge.

  Ben paused next to me. He seemed to be watching Shannon. She looked over at us and her mouth turned up in a smile. Ben gave her a brief nod, then went over to help Chase.

  I saw Roland talking to one of the employees.

  “This doesn’t look good,” I said.

  “It’s a nightmare,” he said. “This could not have come at a worse time.”

  “Ben said we’re already behind schedule,” I said.

  Roland nodded. “Apparently my dad was too busy with his mistress to make sure things were on time. This bottling should have happened last week.”

  “Chase will get things up and running,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know,” he said. “In the meantime, we’re going to hand-bottle as much as we can. There’s a shipment that needs to go out today, so we can’t wait.”

  “Do you need me to help?” I asked.

  “I definitely need you,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Need the help.”

  “Get a room,” Cooper said, appearing out of nowhere. He draped an arm around my shoulders. “We have a shit-ton of work to do, so if you two could stop making goo-goo eyes at each other, that would be awesome.”

  Roland scowled at him.

  “Nice face,” Cooper said. “That’s a good look on you. But enough about me. This wine is not going to bottle itself. At least, not until Chase gets his ass in gear and fixes this mess. What do you think he’s doing up there?” He turned and cupped his hand over his mouth, pitching his voice to be heard across the building. “Chase! Dude, don’t fuck this up. The entire winery is counting on you, bro. But no pressure or anything.”

  Chase flipped him off without looking over.

  “Cooper, watch your mouth,” Shannon said.

  He winced. “Oops, forgot Mom was in here.” He pointed at Chase. “Hey, he flipped me off. Aren’t you going to scold him, too?”

  Shannon shook her head, rolling her eyes.

  “So unfair,” Cooper said. He squeezed my shoulders, then pointed at Roland. “Remember what I said. Dick punch.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be bottling?” Roland asked.

  “Probably.” Cooper started toward the still conveyor belt where a group of people were busy siphoning wine into bottles. “Hey, y
ou guys be careful with that. That’s the blood of my children. You better not spill a drop.”

  I laughed, and Roland shook his head.

  “He is so creepy when he talks like that,” he said.

  “That’s Cooper for you,” I said. “So, how can I help?”

  “I think everything is covered except labeling and boxing.”

  Roland and I went to the end of the line where the full, corked bottles were being collected. Normally the bottling machine affixed the labels before placing the wine bottles in boxes. Hand-labeling was going to be tedious as hell, especially getting them on straight. But it needed to be done.

  At first the task seemed impossible. I ripped four labels trying to peel them off their backing, and Roland couldn’t get his on the bottles straight. Once we got smart and got a system going, things moved faster. He peeled the labels and I stuck them on. Brynn came over and started boxing the finished bottles.

  We worked for hours. After we finished the backlog, we washed up, donned gloves, and helped fill and cork more bottles. Then more labeling and boxing. Despite the challenging situation, the mood in the bottling room was upbeat. The entire Miles family was here—even Leo came out of hiding to help. The rest of the winery staff pitched in, too. There was a sense of camaraderie in coming together to face a crisis.

  “Stand clear,” Chase called from somewhere deep in the machinery.

  We all stood back. I held my breath. Suddenly, the conveyor belts started moving, the bottling machine roaring to life. A cheer rose up as we all clapped and celebrated.

  Roland’s eyes met mine, and he smiled. It was a smile I remembered so well. One I’d seen a thousand times. And it had never looked as beautiful as it did today.

  24

  Zoe

  My feet ached after the long hours spent in the bottling room. Most of the staff had filtered out after Chase and Ben got the bottling machine operating again. Shannon was still here with Cooper and Leo, making sure things were working as they should, and finishing up the bottling run.

  Shannon walked over and pulled me in for a hug. “Thanks for your help today.”