by K. A. Linde
“What?” Blaire gasped.
Blaire had been my best friend since college. Even though she was three years younger than me, we’d hit it off and never looked back. I’d been there to help her get her business, Blaire Blush, off the ground. And watch her cross a million followers on Instagram. I’d seen her recently hit three and a half million on TikTok. She was infectious and incredible and empowering for all women everywhere. I loved that about her. And that she’d never told me to ditch Bradley long ago when I was still trying to figure out what the hell we were doing.
“Yeah. That’s why I was outside so long and why I took Hollin’s shirt. Because Bradley was going to propose.”
“Talk about a curveball,” Blaire said as she parked her silver Lexus in the garage beside my blue Jeep Wrangler.
“Yeah. Hollin asked if Bradley was going to propose, and I freaked out.”
“Wait,” Blaire said as we entered my house, “Hollin saw the engagement ring?”
“He did.”
“Ah.” She blew out a breath. “No wonder.”
“What?”
“He was in rare form tonight.”
“He was the same asshole as always.”
Blaire flipped her long black hair off her shoulder. “If you say so.”
“I don’t want to talk about Hollin.”
“Fine. Tell me about Bradley.”
“I don’t want to talk about him either.”
Blaire laughed. “I bet I have some ice cream in the freezer.”
She went to look, and I went into my bedroom to change out of these clothes. I chucked the tight jeans onto my bed and slowly unbuttoned Hollin’s shirt. I brought the fabric up to my nose and inhaled. It smelled like him. I didn’t know what cologne he used, but it made my mouth water. It was so heady. As if I could fall back into a forever dream at the mere scent of it.
I hastily stripped out of the shirt and threw it on top of my jeans. I needed to get this under control. It didn’t matter that Hollin’s cologne turned me on. Or that I’d worn the shirt all night. Or that Blaire had been right…that he’d been in rare form. He’d pressed every single button and not backed off all night. He’d wanted a reaction from me, and I’d given them all to him.
“Okay,” Blaire called from the kitchen. “Looks like Jennifer killed the cookie dough.”
I tugged on sweats and a Texas Tech sweatshirt. “Strawberry?”
“Yes. There’s a pint of strawberry and chocolate, cherry, pecan.”
“A scoop of both?”
“You got it.”
She doled out ice cream into fancy martini glasses and brought them over to the couch. She positioned them just this way, snapping a few shots.
She guiltily looked up at me. “Sorry, work…”
“I’m used to you taking pictures of everything before we can enjoy it.”
She laughed. “Yeah. Well, after a breakup is different. I should be in the moment.”
“You’re here. You have ice cream. Good enough for me.”
No matter how laid-back Blaire was, she always worried that her carefully curated life interfered too much in real life. But I didn’t care. It never changed anything about our time together.
My mind snagged on one thing that Blaire had said. “What do you mean, no wonder about Hollin? That he was in rare form?”
“Well, he’s into you,” Blaire said with an unapologetic shrug. “Like…he was acting like that because the ring freaked him out.”
I dug my spoon into the ice cream. “Hollin is just pissed that I’m one of the few girls who won’t give him the time of day.”
“He doesn’t act like that around me,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s different.”
“Not to play the minor celebrity card”—she gestured to herself—“but after a few million followers, I have discovered that guys and girls find me attractive. I could be dating right now. But Hollin Abbey doesn’t even look at me. He’s into you.”
“So? I’m not into him,” I insisted.
Blaire pointed her spoon at me. “You think he’s hot.”
“He is.”
“You like the way he smells.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. I hated that I’d told Blaire that once. “And? It doesn’t change what he did.”
Before Blaire and I lived together, I’d lived with these two girls, Quinn and Khloe. When Quinn asked me about Hollin, I told her what I knew about him. He was a year older than me in school. We’d never associated before the Wright cousins moved here, but I’d heard that he was a good guy. He hadn’t had his sleeve tattoo. He was still so tall but less muscular. I told her to go for it.
Unbeknownst to Quinn, he was already dating Khloe as well. When it all came out, the friendship ended over a guy who three-date-ruled them both and then threw them away. We had to break the lease because they wouldn’t even talk to one another. It was when I decided to get my own place. I’d never do the drama or deal with Hollin Abbey.
“That was a few years ago.”
“You think he’s different? You saw how he was with that Emily girl tonight. If anything, that proves that he’s exactly the same. He’d probably even tell you that he is.”
Blaire sighed. “All right. You win.”
“Good. I like winning.”
“You better win the wine competition.”
I chanced a glance at her. “Was the wine that good?”
“Really fucking good.”
“Ugh!” I was still irritated that Hollin hadn’t let me try it. He’d even called me the enemy. Jerk. “I’d better fucking win.”
“Yeah,” Blaire said with laughter sparkling in her eyes, “or you’re never going to hear the end of it.”
She wasn’t wrong. Hollin would never let me live that down. Not ever.
6
Piper
The good thing about Lubbock was that a person could get to anything they wanted within twenty minutes. Sinclair Cellars was just on the border of that time limit. Built on land the Sinclairs had acquired in the ’60s in the south part of Lubbock, it had acres and acres of vineyards. What had once been a small family operation had bloomed under their careful tutelage and my father’s burgeoning enthusiasm for the property.
Driving onto the land each morning was like coming home. I’d grown up running through the grapevines, had my first kiss on a tractor ride through the fields in the fall, and learned the feeling of a hard day’s work. When I was having a bad day, the first thing I wanted to do was go out and walk through the grapes. I found peace here. I understood how family farmers felt, connected to their entire world in this dirt. It had sustained me for a long time.
So, when I parked my blue Jeep Wrangler at the front of the property Saturday morning, the land was calling to me. I took my coffee out of the center console and trekked out into my fields. The vines were empty of the bountiful fruit that would start growing this summer.
But it settled something inside me.
I’d broken up with Bradley last night. For the last time. I wasn’t sad about it exactly. It felt like a lot of wasted time. It wasn’t, of course. It had shaped me in many ways. I’d dated a bunch of idiots before him, and he’d been good to me for the last couple of years. We just hadn’t had forever stamped on us. As hard as it was to let go, it was the right choice.
I took a sip of my drink and let the early morning rays crash over my golden skin. The mornings were still too cold to go without a jacket. I snuggled into the North Face and let the coffee heat me up.
After a few minutes, a throat cleared behind me. “Thought I’d find you out here.”
I smiled at my dad. “Buenos días, Papa.”
Matthew Medina wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Did it call to you too?”
“Sí.” I dropped my head on his shoulder. “Always.”
We stood there until the sun crested the horizon, bathing our fields in orange and pink. This was what we had in common. This was who we were. Our name m
ight not be on the wine label, but it was our blood, sweat, and tears that created the incredible blends.
“Come, mija. It’s time for work.”
I nodded and followed my father back out of the crops. He veered off to his office, and I went down to the cellar. There was always something to do at this point. We were experimenting with a small batch of natural yeast fermentation wine. It was risky and tricky, as it likely wouldn’t be reproducible. But we were a large enough operation that we could try out ideas, even if they didn’t come to fruition, as long as we hit the quotas. Our product was in stores all across Texas as well as specialty stores across the rest of the southwest.
It was nearly noon before I looked up from my work to find my sister, Peyton, standing with her hands on her hips. “Pipes, did you forget?”
I blinked at her as comprehension dawned on me. “We’re meeting the wedding planner.”
“Yep. Were you going to come? Dad said that you’d be down here.”
“I’m coming,” I told her instantly. I put aside my work and followed her out of the processing center.
Peyton was five years older than me and Peter and a classically trained ballerina. She’d left us at seventeen for the School of American Ballet full-time in New York City. She was a principal for the New York City Ballet until suffering a knee injury. She’d retired last summer and moved back to Lubbock to be with her high school sweetheart, Isaac Donoghue.
I was so happy for them for working it out after all these years. It sometimes felt too cute to be true. I hadn’t even had a high school sweetheart. I’d been more interested in my studies and working at the winery to get into anything serious. And my experience in college with a series of terrible boyfriends had taught me that what Isaac and Peyton had was special and utterly unrealistic. The expectations I had from my parents and sister made all my relationships look like chump change.
“Okay, seester,” I teased. “Let’s go show you around the vineyard you grew up in.”
She rolled her eyes, tugging her cardigan tighter around her body. She was the artistic director for the Lubbock Ballet Company and still looked every inch the dancer from her perfect posture to her strict ballet bun. “It’s not about a tour. Nora wants to focus on the layout.”
“Whatever you want.”
Peyton and Isaac would be married at the end of May right here at Sinclair Cellars. We didn’t do a ton of weddings on-site anymore. Not since we’d expanded into higher production. Dad kept talking about opening a venue downtown that served food and our wine during the week and did events as a side project. But it had never happened.
It was one of the differences between us and Wright Vineyard. They’d immediately hired Nora to be their on-site wedding planner and dove straight into event planning while they got the wine side of the business off the ground. It helped that Nora was Hollin’s sister.
Peyton and I headed back up toward the main building. It was a large with a church facade and terra-cotta roof. We used it for our annual tractor rides in the fall, Christmas light rides, and wine tasting year-round.
Nora waited for us at the front entrance with her face buried in an iPad. She had on a green-and-white floral number on her barely five-foot frame. The platform heels made her look much taller than she actually was. She wore them basically everywhere, except the soccer field. I found it baffling. Her blonde bob was parted straight down the middle and had been recently cut to just under her chin. She looked up at our approach, and her blue eyes were nearly the same color as Hollin’s. I had to push aside that thought instantly.
“Hey, Nora,” I said, holding out a hand.
Nora swatted it away and gave me a hug. “We’re all family here.”
“Thanks for coming, Nora,” Peyton said.
She smiled wide. “I’m so excited for y’all. This is going to be so much fun. Y’all ready?”
“Sure,” I said.
Nora had only graduated last year, but she’d worked for a wedding planner all through college. She was good at her job. She walked us through all of the technical business—layouts, arrangements, flow. I was the maid of honor and promised to be there for Peyton through all of it, but I was starting to wonder if Nora was a magician. She juggled every little thing as if it were so easy.
“That about covers it,” she said an hour later as we sat around a table inside. “What do you think?”
“You’re a godsend,” Peyton said honestly.
Nora laughed. “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” She pointed at me and frowned. “Oh, one thing I forgot to ask about. Is Bradley still on for building the altar? The one that I thought we had on hold was scooped up. You said that he’d be interested if I couldn’t get the arch we wanted.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. Well, fuck.
“What happened?” Peyton asked intuitively.
“We kind of broke up last night.”
“Again?”
I winced. “Yeah, but for real this time.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Peyton said.
“Well,” I said with a cringe, “I found an engagement ring in his bag.”
Nora put her hand to her mouth, and Peyton’s entire face softened.
“I realized that I could never marry him. So, yeah, it’s over.”
“I’m sorry,” Peyton said, putting her hand on mine. “You were together a long time.”
“That’s hard, Piper,” Nora said. She scribbled on her iPad. “I’ll handle talking to Bradley. Don’t even worry about it.”
“Okay, great.”
“But I guess that explains why you were wearing my brother’s shirt last night.”
“You were what?” Peyton asked. She fully faced me. “Is something going on with you and Hollin?”
“No. I wish people would stop asking me that,” I grumbled. “Bradley spilled a glass of wine on me, and Hollin had a spare shirt.”
“They were flirting,” Nora said with a grin.
“We weren’t flirting.”
“Would you be aware if you were flirting?” Peyton asked with a laugh. “You’re kind of oblivious, Pipes.”
“This conversation isn’t about me. We’re here about the wedding,” I reminded them. “Hollin is a manwhore. No offense, Nora.”
Nora raised her hands. “None taken. I know who he is, and I’d love to see someone put him on the straight and narrow.”
“No one can make another person change. That’s not how it works.” I shrugged as I came to my feet. “I don’t care what Hollin does as long as he’s not hurting people. But that doesn’t mean I’m interested.”
I wasn’t interested. He’d called me the enemy, and I felt the same way. We were on opposite sides of a war. He was hot and made me fucking blush with his looks, but that was sexual. That wasn’t anything important about a relationship, except my body’s reaction to him. I was smarter than that.
“Forget I mentioned it,” Nora said easily. “I’ll take care of the specifics for the wedding, Peyton. If you have any questions, feel free to message me at any time. I’m always available.”
“Thanks, Nora,” Peyton said.
“Seriously, thank you.”
“It’s no problem.”
“You all got the gala invite, right?” Peyton asked as we cleared the table and stood to leave.
“Got it,” I told her.
She was excited. Lubbock had acquired our first professional sports team, a Division II soccer team—FC Lubbock, the Prairie Dogs. Jordan had been in charge of the contract through Wright Construction, and Isaac had been the project manager alongside him. They were hosting a huge welcome event at the Buddy Holly Center. The ballet was performing a mini set for the audience and everything.
“August and I will be there,” Nora confirmed. “We’re excited.”
“Me too,” Peyton said.
We followed Nora outside to see a truck parked next to her CR-V. Her boyfriend, August, leaned against it in Wranglers, a gray T-shirt, and cowboy boot
s. His floppy surfer hair blew in the wind, but his heart-melting grin was all for his girlfriend. Nora squealed and trotted over to him as fast as she could in her heels. He picked her up and twirled her around, planting a firm kiss on her lips.
“Couldn’t wait for you to be done. Brought you Starbucks,” August said.
Nora looked up at him with hero worship in her eyes. “Gah, I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby girl.”
He passed her the coffee he’d driven out to the middle of nowhere to bring her and then waved at us. “Hey, y’all.”
“Hey, August,” I said.
Peyton waved next to me.
“They’re cute,” Peyton said.
“Young.”
Peyton laughed. “You’re so cynical.”
“Practical,” I argued.
“Whatever you say.” She faced me. “Are you sure you’re okay about Bradley?”
“Totally. It was a long time coming.”
“Well, if you need to talk, I’m around.” She checked her phone. “But I need to get to the studio. They knew I was coming in late, but still…things get out of control in a matter of hours.”
I hugged my sister and watched her leave, too. Maybe I was cynical. After all, wasn’t Peyton proof that young love could last? It’d just taken fifteen years for them to get back to it. Was it because I didn’t have anyone like that in my life that I felt so jaded about it?
Things hadn’t worked out with Bradley after trying time and time again. Was it me? Or was I over the bullshit? Over settling?
My thoughts were clouded as I walked back inside and grabbed another water. I didn’t have time to think about all of this. I had work to do. I was heading to my office when I nearly ran into a face I hadn’t seen in a good long while.
“Chase?” I asked.
Chase Sinclair blinked when he saw me. “Oh, hey, Piper.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked in confusion.
Chase was the grandson of Ray Sinclair, who had bequeathed Sinclair Cellars to my father. He was also a lawyer and Annie’s ex. I wondered if he’d heard about Annie and Jordan yet.
“Just meeting with your father.”
