by Lee McKenzie
“Are all of your vineyards this big?” she asked.
“This is one of the smaller ones, and one of the oldest. These are merlot grapes, which is the wine we’re best known for. In the past few years we’ve bought properties in different parts of the valley because the microclimate and soil type have a lot to do with the variety and quality of the grapes we can produce. I wanted to expand the business, and expanding the types of wine we offered seemed to be the way to go.”
He’d obviously been right on the money with that decision, just as he had been with the wine bars. Did he ever make a wrong move? She doubted it. She knew Morgan Estate produced an impressive variety of wines. She had looked into carrying a couple of them in the bar and quickly realized that wouldn’t be possible unless she hiked her prices.
“Who’s the ‘we’ you refer to when you talk about all of this?”
“My family, mostly, and we’ve hired a world-class winemaker. He’s been experimenting with some of the new grapes, with excellent results, and we’ve launched several new wines since he joined us. I hired the best managers I could find for the wine bars—you met Kathryn at the wharf. My sister Ginny—you’ll meet her and her husband when they come for dinner—heads up our marketing department. She puts together all of our advertising campaigns, designs all the new labels, that sort of thing.”
Ben stopped walking and turned around. “Ginny’s baby got lost. Me and Poppy are looking for it.”
Jess looked to Michael for clarification.
“He doesn’t miss a beat,” he said. “That’s right, Ben. Ginny and Paul lost their baby.” To her, he mouthed the word miscarriage.
“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Dogs are good at finding people,” Ben said.
“That’s what I’ve been told,” Jess said, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Poppy, with her fake diamond collar and leash, was as far from being a search-and-rescue dog as a dog could be.
Ben waited for her and Michael to catch up and fell into step next to her. “Hold hands, too?”
“Of course.” She took his mittened hand and an odd rush of emotion filled her chest.
The school where she’d been teaching before her grandfather died had a program for students with developmental challenges and she had often thought that working one-on-one with those students would have felt much more rewarding than trying to manage a classroom full of students who didn’t want to be there.
“Do you go to school, Ben?”
“No. I stay home. Look after Poppy.”
“Good for you. Taking care of someone else is hard work.” She wondered if Sophia had help. Michael seemed to understand that his mother needed a break, which was why he had suggested going for a walk, but a woman Sophia’s age should have more regular and consistent support than that.
“We’ll fix the car?” Ben asked. His out-of-the-blue question interrupted her thoughts.
“Not today,” Michael said. “It’s a holiday. But when we get back to the house, we can take Jess out to the garage and show it to her.”
“Jessie likes cars?”
“I sure do. What kind of car do you have?” she asked.
“Blue,” Ben said with authority. “You have a blue car?”
Jess laughed. “No. I have red Vespa.”
“That’s a car?”
“Not exactly. It’s like a motorcycle, only smaller.”
“Motorcycles aren’t cars.”
“No, they’re not.”
“I like cars. We’ll fix the car today?” he asked again, still hopeful.
“We’ll take Jess to see your car when we get back to the house,” Michael said. For a man with such a go-get-’em approach to business, he had an endless reserve of patience for his brother’s frequently repeated questions.
For the next twenty minutes they wandered through the rows of grapevines, pausing from time to time while a blade of grass or some new scent caught the attention of the little dog. Michael had taken the leash, and he and his brother had continued to hold Jess’s hands. She didn’t want it to end.
Eventually, though, the dog showed signs of tiring and so did Ben. When they returned to the house, the kitchen was spotlessly clean and filled with the spicy aroma of baking pumpkin pies, but there was no sign of Sophia.
“Mom?” Ben yelled the instant they were inside.
Michael shushed him and unclipped Poppy’s leash. “She’s upstairs resting. Let’s go out to the garage.” The dog headed straight for her water bowl.
“Show Jessie the car,” Ben said.
“Do you mind?” Michael asked.
“Of course not. I remember you telling Larry and Bill about it the first time you came into the Whiskey Sour. I’d like to see it.”
Ben rushed down a short hallway off the kitchen, which was more of a mudroom with a laundry room on one side and a powder room on the other—and she and Michael followed. The door at the end opened into a four-car garage.
The space closest to the house was occupied by a nondescript dark gray SUV, most likely Sophia’s. The two stalls in the middle were empty. The car in the farthest space was completely concealed by a fitted canvas cover.
Ben helped Michael uncover it and turned to her, as proud as can be. “See my car? It’s blue.”
Wow. Jess didn’t know what to say. Ben’s car was a classic open roadster with long sweeping lines, silvery-blue paint and a luxurious-looking red leather interior.
“That’s a very cool car, Ben. And it’s my favorite shade of blue.”
“We fix the car today?” he asked.
“Not today, sport. It’s a holiday, remember? That’s why Jess is here.” Michael put his arm around her. “What do you think of Ben’s Morgan?”
“It’s gorgeous.” She could picture it on the road with him behind the wheel. “My grandfather would have been impressed.”
“Jessie wants to fix the car?”
His persistence made her laugh. “I don’t know how. Maybe we can find something else to do, though. Do you like to play games?”
“Go Fish!” Ben shouted, and raced for the door to the house. “I’ll show you.”
“Thanks,” Michael said. “You have a knack for creating a distraction.”
“I used to be a teacher, remember?”
He caught her before she could leave and pulled her into his arms. “No, I don’t think that’s it.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Must be those green eyes.” He kissed her again, this time on the tip of her nose. “Or maybe it’s—”
“I thought you were talking about distracting your brother.”
He brushed her lips with his. “Who?”
“Behave yourself,” she warned. “Otherwise I’ll have to keep you after school.”
“What would it take to get a whole week’s worth of detention?”
“More than a misdemeanor.”
He held her face between both his hands and kissed her again, this time with purpose and a little tongue. “Does that qualify?”
She opened her eyes and looked into his. “Definitely.”
Apparently satisfied, he let her go. “Go on inside. While I’m out here I’ll move my car into the garage. I’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”
She was still enjoying the afterglow of Michael’s kiss when she followed Ben into the house. Sophia was back in the kitchen and Ben was in the family room, hauling games out of a cabinet.
“Did you enjoy your walk?” Sophia asked.
“It’s beautiful here. I’ve never walked through a vineyard before. It seems to go on forever.”
“Wait till you see it in the spring when the vines are turning green. That’s always been my favorite time of year.”
More than anything, Jess hoped she’d be back here in the spring.
Sophia slipped her hands into a pair of oven mitts. “My daughter Ginny called while you were out with the boys. She and Paul are leaving soon and should be here in half an hour or so.”
“I�
��m looking forward to meeting them.”
“It’s too bad Lexi couldn’t be here for the holiday. She said she had to fly down to L.A. on business.” Sophia opened the oven and took out a pie, adding to the already holiday-scented kitchen. “Who does business on Thanksgiving?”
Jess had no idea. “I hope to meet her some other time.”
“Oh, you haven’t met her already? She lives in the city, too, so I assumed the two of you already knew each other.”
Jess couldn’t begin to guess what Michael had told his mother about them, but Sophia seemed certain that they were having a relationship, and that they had been having one for more than a couple of weeks. Jess still wasn’t convinced there was a relationship at all, unless she counted Michael’s interest in the Whiskey Sour.
“Mikey! Jessie! Play this game!” Ben shouted when Michael joined them.
Sophia put her fingers to her lips. “Inside voices, remember?” she said quietly.
Ben imitated her. “Ssshhh.”
“Thank you. Now show Michael and Jess which game you’d like to play.”
“This one!” He smacked a hand on the Trivial Pursuit box.
“That one’s too hard for me,” Jess said. “I thought you wanted to play Go Fish.”
He grabbed a much smaller box and held it up so she could see it. “This one!”
“That’s more like it.”
Ben plunked himself on the floor by the coffee table in the family room. Jess sat cross-legged on the carpet and Michael sprawled on the opposite side of the table, legs stretched to one side.
“Would you like to deal?” he asked Ben.
Ben shook his head vigorously. “Jessie deals,” he said and handed the cards to her.
She laughed and slid the deck out of the box. “All right, but I’m warning you. I’m a bit of a card shark.”
“I’ll win,” Ben said.
Michael winked at her. “He’s right. He always does.”
The night she met him he had given the impression that he excelled at whatever he did, and he liked to win. She had a competitive streak, too, so she had been able to relate to it. This was a different side of Michael, an unexpected one, and she liked it.
“How many cards should I deal to each player?” she asked Ben.
“Five.” He held up one hand, showing all five fingers.
“Very good.” The cards were large and made from stiff, heavy board, perfect for even the least coordinated hands. She carefully counted as she dealt them so Ben could follow along then set the remaining cards face-down in the middle of the table.
“Me first,” Ben said. “Mikey has a bunny?”
Jess stifled a giggle. He was so not a Mikey, although he looked awfully adorable, sitting there with the oversize, brightly colored cards fanned out in one hand.
He shot her a warning look and handed a rabbit card to his brother. Ben matched the two cards and set them on the table. “See? I’m winning.”
Twenty minutes later, as predicted, Ben was declared the Go Fish champion. Sophia coaxed the conquering hero into the kitchen for a snack while Michael and Jess put away the cards and the other games Ben had dragged out of the cabinet. A framed photograph on a shelf above caught Jesse’s attention—the only family photo in the room that she could see. Michael, smiling, maybe sixteen or seventeen and the embodiment of every teenage girl’s dream, was posed with his brother and his sisters. The elder of the two girls, who looked about thirteen, was proudly holding baby Ben. That had to be Ginny. The younger girl, Lexi, was turned away from the camera, tickling the baby’s chin with the end of one long dark braid.
Like so many things lately, it reminded Jess of her childhood, one that had been devoid of family photographs, among other things. She shook off the feeling and looked away.
A sound from the front of the house caught Ben’s attention and, snack forgotten, he ran out of the room. “Ginny!”
“As you can see, he’s our welcoming committee,” Sophia said. “He loves it when his family comes home.”
As much as Sophia loved having them home, Jess thought. She stifled the momentary rush of bitterness she felt toward her own mother for never making the holidays special. Then Michael pulled her into a quick hug that made it easy to let go of the past.
Chapter Ten
The Morgan family’s Thanksgiving dinner was a lively affair, served in the large dining room. Like everything else in the house, the furniture looked expensive but inviting—a blend of West Coast casual and old Italian villa. The light from an ornate wrought-iron chandelier cast a warm glow over the table that had been set with simple gold-rimmed white china and sparkling crystal. The centerpiece—a long shallow basket filled with pillar candles, tiny orange pumpkins, autumn-colored squashes and assorted greenery—was perfect for the holiday.
Michael uncorked the wine as Jess and Ginny helped Sophia carry steaming platters and bowls of food to the table. All day he had been charming and attentive, and that continued during dinner. Sophia had arranged for Jess to sit on one side of the table between him and Ben. Ginny and her husband, Paul, sat across from them.
“I can’t image what’s so important in L.A. that couldn’t have waited till next week,” Sophia said, gazing at the vacant space next to Ginny where Lexi should have been sitting.
Michael’s mother was an amazing cook, and Jess was glad that she hadn’t been expected to contribute anything. Her kitchen was poorly equipped and her cooking skills weren’t that great anyway. Anything she could have prepared would not have measured up, and something from the deli would not have gone over well.
Michael and his sister seemed to have a great connection, especially where the family business was concerned, but Sophia shushed them when the conversation shifted to work. “No business at dinnertime,” she reminded them. “Especially not on a holiday.”
Ginny was a petite and stunningly beautiful dynamo, a younger version of her mother. She had ideas and opinions about everything, and she wasn’t afraid to express them. She declined the wine Michael offered her, saying she’d had a touch of flu and wasn’t feeling great.
The one thing they all had in common was their devotion and protectiveness toward Ben. He was good-natured, thrived on being the center of attention, and it was clear that he was well provided for and much loved. She couldn’t help thinking, though, that he had been a little too sheltered, and that maybe he could benefit from getting out in the world a little more.
Not that it’s any of your business, she reminded herself. Still, although she hadn’t worked with kids with developmental challenges, she’d seen young adults like Ben who were far more self-sufficient.
Clinking glasses was a long-standing family tradition, it seemed, and one that Ben especially loved. As a result, there was a great deal of toasting and general revelry at dinnertime and, with a glass of grape juice gripped firmly in his hand, he had been the most enthusiastic participant. While Sophia presided from one end of the table, the chair at the other opposite end was noticeably empty. One of the many toasts was to Michael’s father, and everyone raised their glasses in that direction. It had been done with a lot of respect and a lot of love, and Jess admired a family that honored the people they’d lost. That was exactly what she was trying to do for her grandfather, so it shouldn’t be hard for Michael to understand why the Whiskey Sour wasn’t for sale.
After Sophia’s delicious pumpkin pie was served and eaten, Jess was wishing the meal would never end. It had been a perfect evening in the company of a perfect family. She would never find the words to tell Michael how much she loved being there, but she would find a way to thank him.
THE HOUSE WAS AS QUIET after dinner as it had been hectic during the festivities. Ginny and Paul left after the dishes had been cleared away and his mother had gone upstairs with Ben to get him settled for the night. Michael looked in the study to see if Jess was there, but she wasn’t. He wandered through the kitchen and family room, then saw her outside, resting her forearms on the top e
dge of the stone wall that separated the terrace from the vineyard.
She was wearing slim-fitting black pants and a dark moss-green sweater that matched her eyes perfectly, and her hair was in a ponytail. She had long, thick, extravagantly red hair that begged to be touched, and he’d like to see her let it down more often, the way she’d worn it last Saturday evening. He’d have to work on that.
All day he’d found himself thinking back to Lexi’s warning, that he couldn’t “have it all,” but now he was becoming more and more convinced that’s what he wanted. Jess was having trouble keeping her business afloat and if she would give his offer some serious consideration, she would see it was the perfect solution. There was also no denying that he and Jess had a connection, and he was ready to explore that to its logical conclusion.
He watched her hug herself and wondered if she was cold. Maybe he should take a jacket to her.
No. He knew a better way to keep her warm.
He poured two glasses of wine and carried them outside. “Here you are.” He held out one glass. “I’ve been looking for you.”
She accepted it without looking at him. “Thank you.”
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and set the glass on the stone ledge, untouched.
He could tell she wasn’t. “Did someone say something to make you uncomfortable? If they did—”
“No,” she said quickly. “Not at all. Your family’s great.”
He set down his own glass. “Then tell me what’s going on.” He hooked his forefinger under her chin so she had to look up at him. Her eyes looked suspiciously moist. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing anyone did. It’s just me. I’ve…” Her voice had developed an uncharacteristic waver. “I’m being silly, I know, but I…” She paused again and took a deep breath. “This might sound crazy, but until today I’ve never had a real family Thanksgiving dinner.”
During those few seconds while he waited for her response, he’d considered several possible explanations for her unexpected withdrawal. Like maybe his mother had asked if she ever planned to have children, or Ginny had told her about the women he usually dated. But he couldn’t have imagined this, not in a million years. And now she was shivering and one the verge of tears.
