by J. Sterling
His expression soured. “How did that happen?”
“I guess he asked her first. I don’t know.”
“So, you what, walked away? And left Todd LeDouche alone with her?” he asked between bouts of laughter. “I never knew you were such a quitter.”
I was already angry enough; I didn’t need Dane adding to it with the name-calling and his inane laughter. “Quitter? Maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe God stepped in to stop me from getting my heart crushed for a second time by the same woman. You ever think of that?”
“No,” he answered sternly. “You ever think that maybe God sent Todd LeDouche to step in to see how hard you’d fight to get the girl?”
“No,” I responded just as sternly as he had. “He asked her out. She said yes.” My teeth were unknowingly grinding together, and I only stopped once Dane gave me a little slap on the shoulder, forcing me to catch my breath and slow my heart rate.
“I can see you’re totally fine with it. No way in hell she’s interested in Lestare,” Dane said, but I was only half-listening. “We’ll follow them. Eat where they eat. Go where they go. We’ll make that date uncomfortable as hell. We’ll be the unwanted third and fourth wheels.”
Surprisingly, I actually considered his stupid plan for all of five seconds before bowing out. “No. I’m going to cut my losses and lick my wounds from the comfort of my own home. I’m exhausted anyway.”
He knew better than to argue, but that usually never stopped him.
“Really? Home instead of ruining their night? You sure?”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“All right. I’ll give you until we leave this place to change your mind”—he tossed me a sympathetic look—“but I get it if you don’t.”
I wasn’t going to change my mind. I felt like a big enough idiot already tonight, and I had no interest in humiliating myself more.
Stepping into the night air, I noticed how unseasonably warm it still was outside. There was very little wind, but damn it if it wasn’t the perfect night for a date. Blowing out a long breath, I unlocked my car door and sat inside. I needed to paint, and I couldn’t get home quick enough to start.
Only three people in the world knew that I painted—my mother, my father, and Dane. Other than that, I kept it to myself even though the walls of my room and our home were covered with my artistic creations. I painted our winery, the buildings, the vines, the town, Julia’s vineyard, and even some label mockups for our special-edition wines, but so far, I hadn’t been able to convince my parents to ditch the traditional logo and try one of mine. They were so rooted in tradition and what worked that they were afraid to rock the boat.
Pulling my car into the driveway, I hopped out and headed straight toward the small barn where my paints and canvas were set up. Some people wrote out their frustrations with words in journals or books but not me. I’d never been good with writing, and when Julia had basically stepped on my heart that night in the vineyard back in high school, I’d come here and painted until the sun rose. She said I had no feelings, but I spilled them all over seven canvases that night, painting broken hearts on fire with vines twisting through them and a shattered heart among the rubble as she walked away from it. I painted out my pain, and by morning, even though I was exhausted, I thought I felt better. That was, until I had seen her at school, and she’d refused to even acknowledge my existence.
Dipping my brush into the red acrylic paint, I swiped it across the stark white canvas in long brushstrokes, my heart screaming in anger as thoughts of Julia with Todd filled my head. It was the smell that pulled me out first. I stopped moving as I breathed in the air, my skin suddenly alive with the awareness that something was wrong. I knew that scent all too well.
Throwing open the barn door, I ran outside. The smell of fire was definitely stronger, and I could see the smoke and the light of the flames rising through the darkness in the distance.
“Dad!” I screamed as I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. “Dad!” I yelled again as I started sprinting.
Running for the back of our property in the dark toward the light of the flames, I slammed to an abrupt halt when I saw the actual fire, my eyes practically bulging out of my head at how close it was and how high the orange bursts were shooting into the night’s sky. I said a quick thank you to whoever listened for the lack of wind and prayed the air would stay still.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“Tina, it’s James Russo,” I stuttered, recognizing the voice of the operator. “There’s a fire on the land behind mine and the La Bellas’. Send the trucks quickly. It’s growing and heading straight for the property.”
“Stay on the line with me, James,” she started to say.
But I yelled at her to hurry up and send the trucks before ending the call. I couldn’t stay on the phone with her and try to stop these flames from reaching our property at the same time.
Where the hell is my dad? I wondered before hearing him shout from somewhere behind me.
“I’m out here, Dad,” I yelled back, knowing he couldn’t see me in the dark. “Turn on the sprinkler systems. Keep the water running,” I yelled as I doubled back. I grabbed one of our power hoses and sprinted toward the edge of our property line.
The fire started to creep perilously close to Julia’s famous south side vines, which were way less protected than the rest of the vineyards. While most vines were consistently moist and offered a natural barrier against fire, I knew that her south side ones tended to be drier because of their placement on the hill. They were also surrounded by brush that couldn’t be easily cleared, unlike a normal vineyard with perfectly spaced out and meticulously maintained grounds. The fire would eat her prized vines first and think nothing of it. My heart ached as I thought about Julia losing the thing she loved most.
“What are you doing?” my father practically screamed from behind me as I turned away from our property line and toward the La Bellas’.
With the water set on high, I worked to protect Julia’s vines on the cliff, creating a barrier around them the best I could without falling off the damn thing. Climbing down as far as I could go while maintaining my balance, I sprayed and pounded at the oncoming flames, determined to keep them at bay and praying I didn’t fall. I slipped constantly, my feet trying to brace and dig in as the fire cracked and roared through the brush, eating every single thing in its path, making it clear that we were at war, the fire and me.
The sounds of sirens in the distance only gave me marginal relief as I sprayed and moved the best I could. I swore I heard the fire laugh at me as it jumped and lurched toward the cliff-side vines before backing down and then roaring back up again with a vengeance. The firemen couldn’t get here quick enough.
“James!” The sound of my father’s angry voice hit my ears, and I glanced back for only a second.
The sprinklers were raining down on our vines, but Julia’s weren’t on. Where the hell were her parents?
Imagining the look on her face if she lost the vineyard was almost enough to break me in two. I couldn’t let it happen. I wouldn’t. The flames doubled in size, creating its own weather, making wind from within itself as if it needed little else to help fuel it. I continued to spray at it from every direction, moving my body in angles that fucking ached as I held the weight of the hose in my arms. I realized in that moment that there was no way I was going to win this battle, but I refused to quit.
The sirens grew louder, and I knew they were here, but I was afraid to stop fighting and look back to check.
“James, we’ll take it from here.” A handful of firemen suddenly fanned out around me, gallons of water spraying out from all directions as the vineyard lit up. “We got this. Get back,” one of them said, but I was afraid to stop. “James! Get out of here,” he shouted, and I finally dropped my hose and took a breath, my arms shaking.
The flames were already starting to back down with the amount of pressure and power they wielded against it at onc
e. It could have been so much worse. Fires had the ability to destroy entire towns without a second thought, and they had burned half of this one once in the past.
I started to walk away, feeling a little dazed.
“James.”
Julia came to a running stop in front of me, and I stopped walking, too. Whatever existed between us zinged to life, and there was no way she didn’t feel it, too. Her hands reached for my shoulders, and I couldn’t remember the last time she’d physically touched me.
“Are you okay? What are you doing all the way out here? Are you hurt?” She swiped her thumb across my forehead, and I winced. “You’re bleeding.”
“I am?” I wiped at my head and noticed the blood on my fingertips. I had no idea how that had even happened.
“What happened?” She reached inside her purse and pulled something out, pressing it against my head.
I let her take care of me—not only because she was offering for the first time in our lives, but also because I wanted her to.
“I don’t know, but I tried, Julia. I’m so sorry,” I told her, wanting so badly to hug her and never let go.
“Sorry for what?” she asked. Her eyes were on mine, filled with concern for what I believed was me and not her vines.
“I tried to save your vines,” I said.
A surprised gasp escaped her lips as she looked over my shoulder and took three leaping steps past me, as if only now realizing that they had been in danger.
She walked back to me, her face pinched. “You tried to save my vines?” she asked, repeating my words.
I nodded, feeling exhausted and defeated as the adrenaline started to filter out. “I tried, but the flames were so close. And they wouldn’t stop.”
“James …” She reached for my hand and clasped her fingers with mine. It was such an intimate gesture, but it wasn’t something that we did. Julia La Bella was never supposed to hold my hand. “They didn’t burn.”
“They didn’t?”
“No. Come look.” She pulled me to the edge of the cliff and pointed.
Where the fire had once been very much alive and breathing, nothing but smoke and small hot spots remained.
Relief flooded through me. “They’re okay,” I breathed out, tangling my free hand in my hair.
She smiled, nodding. “Because of you. Why’d you do that?” she asked before dropping my hand like it could no longer be trusted.
“Do what?” My brain was spinning with confusion, with exhaustion, with a thousand emotions hitting me all at once.
“Why did you save my vines instead of your own? Your dad’s going to kill you.”
In that moment, I had forgotten that anyone else existed, especially my dad. Glancing away from the charred remains of the fire, I looked hard into Julia’s hazel eyes. “I know how much they mean to you. It would have killed you to lose them.”
“So? What do you care if I lose them or not?” she asked sincerely. Julia was genuinely confused.
I considered telling her that I was in love with her, always had been. I wanted to lay it all out on the line, but something stopped me. “I don’t like seeing you hurt,” was all I could admit.
Her expression instantly softened. “That’s funny. Are you joking?”
“What’s funny?”
“It’s just that I would have thought the exact opposite, is all.”
I swallowed hard, her words stinging. “You think I like seeing you hurt?”
She shrugged slowly, her shoulders scrunching up at the same time as her lip curled. “I just didn’t think you cared either way, to be honest. You didn’t care in high school, so why would you care now?”
She was talking about the rumor I’d started back then. Hell, if it wasn’t our parents coming between us, my mistake sure was.
“I’ve always cared.”
Her hips moved as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Okay. Well, thank you.” She tilted her head. “This isn’t a trick, right?”
“How would this be a trick?”
“I don’t know,” she stuttered, clearly rattled for whatever reason.
Had I really been that big of an asshole to her that she would question a good deed and think there was malicious intent behind it?
“I just don’t understand why you would do this for my family. My dad is going to flip out when I tell him.”
“What do you mean? Like he’s going to be pissed?” Those words were the last thing I’d expected to hear.
Her eyes pulled together as she contemplated how to explain her thoughts to me. “My dad’s going to feel like he owes you. And he’s not going to be able to stand it. This will probably make him hate you more.” She actually sounded annoyed, and that little crack in her armor gave me hope. “It’s so stupid. It should make him hate you less, right? But I know it won’t.”
She took a few steps toward me before cupping my chin with her hand and pressing a quick kiss against my cheek. All the blood rushed to my pants, and I wanted to turn my head and change this G-rated kiss into something more suited for adults.
“Thank you again. I can never repay you for what you’ve done,” she said before backing away and putting distance between us.
I wondered if she regretted what she’d just done, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to ask and give her a chance to tell me yes.
“Where are your parents, by the way? I’m surprised your dad wasn’t out here, trying to push me into the fire.”
She actually laughed, and I wanted to bottle that sound up and listen to it on repeat whenever I was having a shit day.
“They’re in Italy, visiting family.”
“Go out with me,” I said, refusing to take no for an answer this time.
“Go out with you?” she repeated.
“You do that a lot.”
“Do what?”
“Repeat the things I say.”
“I do?”
“James! Get the hell over here.” My dad sounded absolutely pissed.
I was honestly surprised he’d let me talk to Julia for this long without interrupting. I wondered briefly how much he’d seen.
“That’s how you can thank me for saving the vines. Go out with me.” I started to back away, hoping she’d say yes.
She kicked the dirt with her feet, her arms wrapped around her middle. “I knew this was a trick.”
I laughed. “Julia, one date won’t kill you.”
“One date with you might,” she fired back, and I hated how much her attitude turned me on.
“So, that’s a yes?” I stopped walking and waited.
My dad screamed my name again, and I suddenly felt like I was a teenager about to get grounded for doing something wrong.
“I’m not taking no for an answer, so you might as well give in.”
“Fine. But I won’t enjoy myself.” Julia waved me off before turning her back to me.
I sprinted toward my still-standing house, thankful that the fire hadn’t gotten out of control and burned it all to the ground, as I mentally planned to make sure that Julia not only enjoyed herself, but also never wanted the night to end.
There would be no more denying what had always existed between us. The mutual charade would end on our date. I’d make sure of it, our parents be damned.
IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME
Julia
I only pretended to walk back to my place to encourage James to leave and deal with his dad, but in reality, I stayed outside to talk to the firemen. They told me that if it hadn’t been for James, the fire definitely would have spread, most likely reaching both of our wine barns and homes, and it might have become an unstoppable force. They also told me that they had practically had to physically remove him from the cliff because he wouldn’t stop battling the flames on his own.
I listened to their every word in shock. James really had been some kind of hero, and I still couldn’t understand why. Fighting for his own vineyard was one thing, but he had fought for mine and left his unattended. I couldn�
�t wrap my head around it. It was hard to reconcile the kind of guy I had always assumed James was with the one I’d witnessed last night. All that cocky, arrogant facade had shifted into something that seemed actually human and caring. It threw me for a loop. Not that I didn’t enjoy seeing James that way—because I did—but it made my heart do funny things inside my chest. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
My parents had heard about the fire from someone in town, but I had no idea who. They called me at four in the morning and insisted that they get on the next flight and come home. I calmed them down and convinced them to stay in Italy for the remainder of their trip, but I knew the worst was yet to come. Once my dad found out about what James had done, he was going to lose his ever-loving mind. If it was up to him, he would rather our vines burn to the ground than have a Russo save them. It was beyond ridiculous—I knew that much—but it was no use, trying to get him to be reasonable when it came to that family.
This morning, I walked the grounds and felt the shock course through my body at how close the fire had actually come to both of our properties. We had gotten lucky that there was no wind last night, or it would have been a completely different story, even with James battling the blaze. The only thing we had to be concerned about now was if the smoke had done any damage or not, but we wouldn’t know the answer to that for months. Thankfully, the south side vines had already been harvested for the year, and they yielded the most resilient grapes; a little smoke might not have even affected them.
“It got close, huh?” The sound of James’s voice made me jump and my heart skitter.
Stupid heart.
I turned toward him, using my hand to shield the sun from my eyes. “So close,” I said in agreement. “Thank you again.” I waved my hand in the direction of my cliff-side vines.
He smiled, and I wished I could see his eyes through his sunglasses. “You can thank me tonight.”
“Tonight?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly.
