He knew how close she’d been to her grandfather. But he’d never heard about this promise—which sounded gut-wrenching. Even though Piper didn’t confide in him the same way anymore, she did confide in the group made up of Ward, Ella and Casey. Why hadn’t she told them?
Hell, Ward knew the answer to that. She liked to play things close to the vest. Never wanted to risk failing at something and having people know about it. Piper never told them which parts she auditioned for in the school musicals. Didn’t tell her parents which colleges she applied to—only the ones that accepted her. Hell, he’d done the same thing. Hadn’t mentioned to the girls so much as a whisper about his plan to expand. Good thing too, now that it didn’t look like it’d pan out.
There had to be more to explain the midnight phone call. “What’s the sticking point?” Ward asked.
Gray rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Money. She’d need to take over a plot of land from the existing vineyard. Her dad just doesn’t want to give up the space or the grapes for what he calls a vanity project.”
Ward wasn’t dialed in to the begats and family trees of all of Seneca Lake. Small as the town was, he just didn’t care. But he did know the major players of the people who mattered to him. “But Grandpa Will was Mr. Morrissey’s dad.”
Zane’s jaw dropped. “He’s dissing the deathbed wish of his own father? Talk about a Class-A jerk.”
That was the kindest thing Ward would ever call the uptight, unloving man who never thought whatever Piper did was good enough. “This still doesn’t make sense. She’s got money. Her grandfather left her a trust fund. I’m sure it’d be complicated, but there’s got to be enough to liquidate for this project. Why doesn’t she just rent the land from a farmer? Wineries do that all the time.”
Gray raised his hand. “Even trying to ignore the whole thing from the couch, hearing only half the conversation, I can answer that one. Piper’s been trying to do just that for the last two years since the first time he brushed aside her proposal. She made the rounds. Every vineyard and farmer turned her down. Not just here on Seneca Lake, but over at Keuka and Canandaigua Lakes too.”
“Why?” asked Zane.
Shit. This just got worse and worse. No wonder Piper had been chewing Ella’s ear off for hours. Ward had always loved his hometown, even when a good chunk of its residents turned on him. The pros of living on Seneca Lake usually outweighed the cons. But every once in a while, something happened that made him choke on the small town atmosphere. No way would Piper be run in circles like this in a big city.
Ward dunked his hands in the water, then rubbed the cool wetness across his face. “Let me guess. They’re all scared of pissing off her father.”
Touching his index finger to his nose, Gray said, “Exactly. The way I hear it, he’s the top of the dog pile around here. Has major pull in the local community and the winemaking community.”
Unfortunately, the assessment was right on the money. “The man’s a big, snarling barracuda in a very small goldfish bowl. Gets off on power plays and acting like he owns this corner of the world.”
“Piper wanted to do this by herself...or partnered with just the memory of her grandfather. That’s why she tried so hard to get a foot in the door everywhere else. Doing it in-house, under her dad, was her last choice. And her last option. Now she’s got nowhere else to go.”
Ward knew that feeling. Was still smarting over the bank’s refusal to give him a loan two days ago.
Leaning forward, Zane clapped Gray on the shoulder. “That sucks. No wonder she kept you up all night. Hard to let a dream die.”
Yeah. Ward knew that feeling too.
“Too bad none of us could help her.” Gray gave Zane the double-finger point like he had a killer idea. “Couldn’t Casey whack down all the trees in a corner of her state forest to make room for a couple of hundred grape plants?”
“Maybe if she wasn’t head ranger she could get away with it...”
“Shut up,” Ward ordered.
Zane’s words burrowed into Ward’s brain. Why couldn’t one of them help her? There had to be a way. He just needed to connect a few dots. Because if he could help Piper, that might be the foot back in the door he’d almost given up hoping for over the past ten years.
“Hey, you didn’t tell us the break was over. Don’t be a douche.”
He sliced his hand through the air. “No, shut up so I can think. One minute.”
The guys looked at him like he’d lost it, but they sat silently.
A plan...no, the beginnings of a plan stirred in his brain. It unfurled the way mail-order sea monkeys did when you added water. It was a crazy plan. With almost no chance of working. But Ward never could resist a long shot.
“One of us can help her.”
After a round of head swivels where they all looked at each other, Joel asked, “Who?”
With both hands, he tapped the center of his long-sleeved black tee. “Me.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of Joel. “What—are you going to offer to beat up her dad until he caves?”
Well, that was something he’d dreamed about doing since high school. Since the first time he’d watched Piper’s face crumple beneath her father’s disapproval. And every subsequent time—of which there were many. “Tempting for a number of reasons, but no.”
Zane pulled a granola bar from his pocket and ripped it open with his teeth. “What have you got to offer her besides your big muscles and intimidating glare?”
“Land. There’s a whole field that’s been lying fallow. I haven’t done anything with it because it hasn’t been a high priority. There’s nothing I want to do with it. It isn’t big enough to be of interest to lease out to a vineyard. But it’d be just right for Piper’s port line.”
“That’s terrific.” Zane shifted in his seat. Cleared his throat. Rolled his shoulders. “And because you’re friends, you won’t screw her on the price, right? Even though you probably know how much she’s got germinating in that trust fund?”
“I know exactly what the asking price is for my land.” He’d gotten everything appraised when he started making the rounds for his expansion loan. And if Piper bought it, it’d be enough to get him over the hump without a loan. “It’s a price she’ll want to refuse, but won’t be able to.”
Joel sighed. “Seriously? It’s not bad enough you memorize pages from that annoying quote-a-day calendar that Casey gave you? Now you’re going to talk in riddles?”
“I’ll charge her less than its worth. I’ll make her work for the difference instead.” The more Ward thought about it, the more perfect—or perfectly insane—it sounded.
“Yeah, right.” Joel jerked his chin forward. “What’s the catch?”
Not so much a catch, as a condition. “She’ll have to date me for a month to get it.”
Zane squinted at him. “Huh?”
Almost simultaneously, Gray shook his head like a dog emerging from the lake. “What?”
Only Joel held his tongue. Instead, he crossed his arms and leveled a steady, assessing look at Ward.
“Oh, I get it.” With a smug smirk, Zane said, “It’s because Gray and I snatched two of your girls, right? Can’t handle always being the bridesmaid, but never a bride?”
“Nah. I think his biological clock is ticking.” Laughing, Gray swiped the second granola bar from Zane.
“Why the hell would you want to saddle yourself with a girlfriend for a month? It cuts you off from putting time and energy into women you actually want to hook up with.”
There was absolutely no way they’d ever let him off this boat without at least a partial explanation. “Look, there’s some ancient history between me and Piper. Buried deep.”
“And now you’ve got a sudden interest in archaeology?” Skepticism rolled off Joel like the last of the fog bu
rning off the water.
“Something like that.” The past hadn’t ended well. Ward didn’t so much want to dig it up as he wanted a do-over.
Zane dusted his hands off, then settled them on wide-spread knees. “Do you remember what happened to Howard Carter?”
“Am I supposed to know who the hell Howard Carter is?”
“You don’t...seriously...” Zane shook his head. “Forget the quote-a-day calendar. This Christmas I’m giving you a historical trivia page-a-day calendar. Fill you up with awesome facts like the name of the island where they imprisoned Napoleon....”
After a long moment punctuated only by the whir of a dragonfly’s wings, Joel said, “Elba.”
“Thank you! Anyway, Howard Carter discovered King Tut’s tomb. You’ve heard of him, I hope?”
Ward put his tongue in his cheek. “The rumors of my bad education have been greatly exaggerated.”
“Oh, I see what you did there, with the bastardization of the Mark Twain quote. Nicely done. Long story short, the locals warned Carter not to excavate. Said there was a curse on the tomb that would strike any who tried to dig up history.”
To cut Zane off from launching into an even longer professor-y spiel, Ward asked, “What happened?”
“He died. They all died,” Zane said solemnly.
“For fuck’s sake. I can’t believe I have to point this out. Piper isn’t a pharaoh or a mummy. We’ve had some epic rough patches, and she’s never done more than give me a noogie. She is not going to curse me or kill me. But if this works, she might—” What was his end game? Have her forgive him? Forget how much she’d hated him? Remember how good they’d been together? Fall in love all over again? “—give me a second chance.”
“This will never work.”
“On the other hand, it just might.” Clearly Joel was still riding the bubble of Dawn agreeing to go out on a date with him. His opinion couldn’t be trusted.
Zane wasn’t done with his curses-and-doom forecast. “She’ll laugh in your face.”
“Definitely. But after she gets done with that, Piper might just be desperate enough to agree to my terms.”
“And you want her on those terms?” Gray’s path to asking Ella to marry him hadn’t exactly been straight—or straightforward. Guess he was projecting his recent personal experience too. “Coercion? Blatant bribery?”
He wanted her. He just plain wanted her. Ward had wanted her since the first day he’d seen that blazing red hair across the choir room. He wanted the guardedness and the shadows erased from her eyes. He wanted the warmth back. He wanted Piper back.
“Yeah.” Because at this point, he was desperate enough to take the long shot. To risk her laughing at him. To risk her hating him again. “I do. I’ll take her however I can get her.”
“Dangerous ground.”
Eager to get back and think through the specifics, Ward grabbed his oar and shoved it into place. “Break’s over. I’m telling you, once she spends all that time with me, I’ll crack through all the shields she’s thrown up. It’ll fix everything.”
It had to.
Chapter Three
With a smooth pop, Piper twisted the measured pour spout out of the empty bottle. “Well, ladies? How about a show of hands? Do you prefer our semi-dry Riesling, or the award-winning Viognier?”
“Any chance we could get another round of samples? A second taste might help me decide.”
Piper ran a practiced eye down the line of women. Midforties. Tasteful clothes with understated jewelry. Hair that looked like they all went to the same salon, and noses that looked like they all went to the same plastic surgeon. Her guess put them as a bachelorette party out from Manhattan for a bride’s second—or possibly third—trip down the aisle. Women who held it together at home, but were letting it all hang loose out here in the relative wilderness of the Finger Lakes. From the brightness of their eyes and their too-loud laughter when they entered, it was evident that Morrissey Vineyards was far from their first stop of the day.
From a cash-grab standpoint, Piper could say yes. They charged for each tasting in the pretty glasses etched with the Morrissey Vineyards logo that curled grapevines around the M and the V. Occasionally Piper did relent, albeit while still collecting the tasting fee, and pour a second round. In her capacity as tasting room manager, she could decide when to bend the rules.
But she never forgot that everyone who sampled her wine would go back outside and very possibly get behind the wheel of a car. Many of the Seneca Lake hotels provided shuttle buses for the guests. Hired sedans did a brisk business in the loop around the lake and its sixty-four wineries.
The atmosphere in their sun-drenched tasting room was light and festive. Jazz played from the overhead speakers. Instead of just crackers, taste-appropriate nibbles such as locally farmed goat cheese and chocolates were served with each wine. Their visitors were supposed to feel like they were at a cocktail party. Still, she always went with her gut. Better to be safe than an unwitting foundation to a tragic accident.
“Sorry, ladies. Only one round allowed. On the bright side, you don’t have to decide on a favorite. You can buy a bottle of each to take home with you. Or perhaps to open at your hotel tonight while you watch the sunset?”
“Ooh, that’s a good idea.” The woman in the middle threw her arms out to the sides to pull her friends in to a group hug. Hard. Hard enough the sunglasses on top of the shortest woman’s head slid down to her nose. Cutting them off was definitely the right decision. “We should each get a bottle.”
Piper pushed their marked-up tasting sheets back across the wide counter. “If you head to the opposite side of the room, Amy can help you locate all your favorites.” She caught the eye of the lithe blonde patiently stationed in front of the wall of wine bottles, and gave a discreet wave toward the group. Clutching their souvenir glasses, they all made a beeline for Amy.
They were the last to be served. At least until the lunch slump ended. There was always a big rush right when they opened at ten. Crowds picked up as noon approached, and then the place emptied out as tourists realized they needed to line their bellies with something more substantial than wine.
The break would be nice. Actually, nice didn’t begin to cover it. After being up half the night on the phone with Ella, Piper was dragging. It was already a double-shot, two-latte day. In hopes that the sugar rush would perk her up, she’d also turned it into a two-donut day. Neither had helped. She had the jitters from the extra caffeine, a slightly queasy feeling from the donuts, and a headache from exhaustion and stress that would probably morph into a migraine by the end of the day.
Not that she’d let a single visitor to the winery know. Piper had shown up fifteen minutes before the rest of her staff, just as she did every morning. She’d paired her crisp white shirt and shamrock-green cardigan with wide-legged pants and platform pumps. If only she felt as good as she hoped she looked.
She wiped her hands on a towel and tossed it to the skinny man retying the half apron at his waist. “Jeffrey, I’m going to head back into my office for a few minutes. You’ll hold down the fort out here?”
“No problem, boss.” His eyes twinkled as he slid a folded paper out from beneath the stack of tasting slips. “I’ve got a sudoku to fill the time until the next tour bus comes.”
“As long as no one sees—”
“Sees me working on it. I know. My job is to give all my attention to our guests. I know.”
“Guess I trained you well,” she teased.
The door swung open, and Piper bit back a sigh. If it was more than just two people, she should really stay out here and help Jeffrey. But oh, it’d be wonderful to sit in her wing chair and close her eyes for exactly ten minutes. She let her lids flutter shut, in the faint hope that when she opened them her luck would’ve turned around.
“Hey, Piper.”
That voice. Raspy and dark, like the constant two days past scruff he kept on his chin. Two words were all it took to recognize him without so much as opening her eyes. But she couldn’t hide from his hotness forever. Piper sighed and blinked. There he stood, looking as bad-boy sexy as ever. Black jeans. Black tee. Thick hair that always looked like some woman had just tousled it in bed. Or so she imagined, never having gotten to experience that particular fantasy when they’d dated.
“Hello, Ward.”
“You busy?”
Piper gestured with both hands at the empty tasting counter. “Lunchtime lull,” she said with a laugh.
“Right. We’ve got the same thing going on over at the distillery.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Officially, they provided a view of a portion of Morrissey Vineyard’s prized grapevines, with the blue expanse of Seneca Lake beyond. But Piper knew it was possible to see the tall white tower of Lakeside Distillery. If you stood exactly six paces from the end of the counter and looked left.
“What brings you here in the middle of the day? Did you come to grab a bottle of our pinot noir for a hot date tonight?”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
That was...unusual. The two of them didn’t chat alone. Not anymore. Not in years. “Just me?”
“Yeah.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, as though his face was thinking about pulling itself into a smile. “No blood was spilled the other night when it was just the two of us. Figured I’d press my luck.”
He could press anything he wanted against her. On her. Whatever. Piper untied her own apron and tucked it on the shelf beneath the counter. “Okay. I’ll live dangerously. What’s up?”
Ward’s gaze shifted to Jeffrey, then back. “Not here. Is there someplace else we can talk? Someplace private?”
“Oh. Sure. Follow me.” Piper led him down the hallway lined with framed medals. Gave a passing thought to how glad she was the tasting room didn’t actually connect to the winery, where her dad kept an office. Because he’d be less than thrilled to see Ward in his business. Then she remembered that it was Wednesday. Her father would be busy with golf at the club all day. Still, it felt somewhat akin to the times she’d snuck Ward into her bedroom in high school. Very illicit.
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