Back To Us (Shore Secrets 3)

by Christi Barth

“That’s not surprising. I wanted to gobble it down. And all I can think about right now is getting my mouth all over you.”

  Ward’s eyes darkened. He didn’t shift his stance, but she could tell all of him tightened. Came to attention. Piper had the feeling that if one of the display cases of wine tipped over, then took the other six down with it like a stack of dominos, Ward still wouldn’t move or look away from her. That kind of focused attention was a heady thing. Addicting.

  It didn’t seem possible to forget something about Ward. Not when they saw each other for breakfast practically every day, on top of all the other times they hung out. But that sort of daily interaction had occurred when they were in the friend zone. Piper had forgotten—although now, in this moment, she couldn’t imagine how—just what a powerful thing it was to be at the epicenter of Ward’s world. Warm. Tingly. Needed.

  Mouth suddenly dry, Piper licked her lips. “Hi.”

  He crossed his arms. Gave her a quizzical grin. “You’re conversation backtracking. We’re way past ‘hi.’”

  Right. She knew that. Just like she knew that their new “arrangement” had unlocked parts of her that had been in cold storage for a very, very long time. “I’m distracted.”

  “Missed you at breakfast today at Cosgrove’s. Did you sleep through your alarm?”

  What, like some drunk college student? Like she didn’t get up and run a business every day? “Have I ever?” Piper snapped.

  “Seeing as how we’ve never spent the night together, I wouldn’t know.” His tone was calm. Matter-of-fact. Pointed, sure, but deservedly so. The polar opposite, in fact, of her shrewish response.

  “Damn it.” Guess her nerves were even less under control than she’d realized. “I’m sorry.”

  “For not sleeping with me? Or for biting my head off?”

  “Both. Definitely both.” Piper knew Ward had taken a lot of flak from his teammates about spending his senior year dating a virgin. Not that he’d ever told her about it, or pressured her at all. No, he’d been remarkably patient for an eighteen-year-old boy.

  Piper had been petrified to tell him that she wanted to wait. Especially since—in her capacity as one of his best friends—she’d learned that he’d dated other girls who did put out. But there were lots of pressures pulling both of them in different directions their senior year. Her friendship circle with Ella, Casey and Ward had been her foundation, as necessary as chocolate and air. Dating Ward had been risky enough to throw into the equation. Sleeping with him? That cranked the complication factor up exponentially.

  Then, of course, they’d gone and fallen in love. The sort of deep, desperate, all-consuming first love that all others would forever be measured against...and found wanting. It should’ve been reason enough to throw caution to the wind. But then Piper worried about the end of the year, and whether or not they’d survive the transition to college. So she’d held him off even longer. Longer still once college began, with him in Kentucky and her stuck at Cornell.

  Ironically, the weekend she’d gone out there to surprise him? Her overnight bag had been stuffed with a dozen condoms. It was time. It was supposed to be their first time. Ward hadn’t known. It was supposed to be a romantic jolt to his system. It was supposed to be magic. Instead, Piper had been the one to get the unforeseen curveball straight to the head. And the heart.

  If Piper hadn’t made him wait so long, would Ward still have kissed that other girl? She didn’t know. In the course of this dating experiment, it was probably something they should discuss. Not that discussing the what-ifs would change the past, but it might give her the closure they’d never achieved.

  “Want to start over again?” she suggested with an apologetic pat of his arm. “All the way back at ‘hi’?”

  “Depends on if it’ll turn out any different this time.”

  Oh, she’d make sure of it. Piper let her hand linger on the dark hair of his forearm. “Well, we’ve had two official dates, shared five breakfasts and burned up the phone lines into the wee hours for three nights. In the dating rule book, that means we’ve hit a certain level.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “Which is?”

  “That you should want to be greeted with a kiss.”

  “Babe, I don’t care about a rule book. If you’re in front of me, I want a kiss. Simple as that.”

  Even better. Piper moved in. Slid a hand up his slightly damp shirt. Stood on her tiptoes. And then jerked away just as his stubble grazed her cheek. “Wait. We can’t. Not now. Not here.”

  Ward’s head lolled in a slow circle. Behind his closed lids, she was pretty sure his eyes were rolling, too. “Want to tell me what’s got your panties in a twist?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, you’ve covered that much already. What the hell is wrong with you this morning? You’re not just acting weird. You’re not Piper.”

  He’d nailed exactly what was wrong with her. “I’m not, am I? I don’t even feel like myself. And it’s kind of pissing me off.”

  “Who do you feel like?”

  “A caricature. A cartoon?” With a swift shake of her head, Piper said, “No, a recipe. That’s what I feel like. Two parts independent modern woman, one part family legacy, three parts winery manager, one part port entrepreneur...” Her voice trailed off. “It’s the interview with WWLL. I’m all twisted up about it. They’ll be here any minute. That’s why I can’t kiss you. That’s why I’m acting so weird.”

  “What happened to my Piper? The cool, collected woman who always has a plan? Who knows exactly what she wants?”

  “Pretty sure my nerves tied her up and are holding her hostage in some dank basement of my brain.”

  “You worried about how you’ll come off in the interview?”

  “I’m worried they’ll twist my words. That I won’t give enough credit to the long legacy of my family. That I won’t say enough to set us apart from all the other vineyards in the Finger Lakes. Or that women reading the article will wonder why I’m lolling on the family laurels. Why I haven’t gotten up the gumption to strike out on my own. Why I waited so long to start Grandpa’s port line.” It was a relief to say it all out loud.

  A deep line furrowed between his dark eyebrows. “For fuck’s sake, Morrissey, pull your head out of your ass.”

  “Excuse me?” Ward might not think he needed a dating rule book, but clearly he needed a refresher in how to be a good boyfriend. Or perhaps just a reality check on her wholly reasonable expectations. “Shouldn’t you be soothing me in the midst of my deep inner turmoil? Offering a sympathetic hug?”

  He shifted his weight to one leg. Shrugged. “That’s not what you need.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “You want someone to pat you on the head? To help you wallow? I call Not It.”

  Mindful of the clump of browsing tourists two shelves over, Piper lowered her voice to a furiously harsh whisper. “Why? Because you only want this deal of ours for the fun times? Because it’s too much trouble when things get less than sunny?”

  “No. Because you’re being an idiot. And I care enough to go to the trouble to point it out, which is the only way to get you to fix it.”

  Piper threw her hands up in the air. “More name-calling. Great. Just what I always wanted in a boyfriend.” This looked to be the end of their little experiment. Oh, well. They’d had a good six-day run. Honestly, they’d lasted longer than she’d anticipated.

  “I’m your friend first and foremost. Being a painfully truthful friend takes precedence over raking in the boyfriend perks, nice as they might be.”

  “Don’t concern yourself with those perks. You’re about to lose all of them.”

  Ward snagged her by her sleeve and towed her around the corner into the relative privacy of the hallway. Then he scrubbed a hand over the thick stubble on his c
heek. “Look, Piper, you’ve got all these hopes and expectations making a sticky mess of your thoughts. You’re trapped in them right now. It sucks. I get that.”

  “Really? This is you being empathetic?” Ward was famous for not pulling any punches. But even he should know that a little sugar-coating was sometimes required. Piper would let him spit out whatever else he had to say. And then she’d turn on her heel and walk away. Because she needed a boyfriend who understood her, not one who bullied her.

  He barreled right on, skimming his hands up and down the outside of her stiffly held arms. “But at your core, Piper, you’re stronger than hundred-and-eighty proof pot-stilled rum. You know exactly what you want to get across to the readers of WWLL. You’re always thinking five steps ahead, if not five years. So cut your way clear of whatever crap has you all tangled up. Stop wasting time and energy fussing. Remember that you’ve got this.”

  His words were an electric cattle prod, burning through her jumbled-up stress and apprehension. And they were a gift, too. A romantic one. Because they proved that Ward absolutely totally did understand her. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what, the twelfth time in five minutes? Now what?”

  “For snapping at you. For putting you in a position where you had to be the bad guy.” Piper wasn’t sure if she should laugh or give him three cheers with a hearty job well done. But her morning of waffling was officially over. So she went with a simple, “Thank you.”

  It took a second for him to register her utter sincerity. When he did, Ward gave the stupid, sharp head bob that men always did instead of simply saying you’re welcome. Guess he’d used up all his words on steering her back on course. Well, Piper had plenty more she wanted to share with him.

  “You’re a hundred times more useful than a gooey-centered, marshmallow-y boyfriend. I guess I didn’t realize that I needed some who’d push back, instead of someone I could push over. It’ll take me a little time and practice to get used to.”

  “Take all the time you need. I’m willing to negotiate an extension on our dating deal. Indefinitely.”

  Laughing, Piper threaded her arm through his and led them back into the tasting room. “That won’t get my port vines planted.”

  “See? Five steps ahead.”

  “I’m very glad you swung by this morning. But why did you?”

  “Brought you something. Checked the fence line this morning and found these.” Ward loped ahead to the shelf he’d first been standing by, and turned back around with a glass bowl brimming with berries darker than her best reserve Cabernet. “I remembered you used to stuff yourself until your lips turned blue on them.”

  Piper snatched one from the top of the pyramid and dropped it on her tongue. So good. So sweet that he remembered. She hadn’t plucked berries from the fence between their properties in years. She tried not to go near it, actually. Too many memories. But it didn’t hurt to sift through those memories anymore. Not with the past quickly being eclipsed by an even better present with Ward.

  This bowl of berries was better than a dozen roses. Uniquely thoughtful, without being fussy. So very, very Ward. She definitely owed him big time now.

  “But it’s September. Only the thorny blackberries are still in season.” She set down the bowl, grabbed his hands and flipped them over. Scratches crisscrossed every inch, from the base of his nails down past his wrists. “Your poor hands! They must sting like the devil.”

  “If I say they do, will you kiss it and make it better?”

  “How about we start with some Neosporin and bandages?”

  “Not my first choice.” He tried to pull his hands out of her grasp, but she held on tight.

  “Don’t be a baby. It’s hard to craft good whiskey with puffy, pus-y hands. Plus, you’d scare away your clientele.”

  His deep laugh rolled through the high-ceilinged room. “There you go thinking five steps ahead again.”

  Behind them, a man cleared his throat. “Miss Morrissey?”

  Piper turned around to find a skinny Asian man wearing mustard-and-cream wing tips. No socks. Tan khakis with the cuffs rolled up. A smoke-grey blazer over a collarless white shirt. Pencil-thin attempt at a spotty mustache. His look screamed hipster. And he was alone. That all added up to only one possible scenario: he had to be the writer from WWLL.

  Crap. She’d been caught completely unawares. Holding hands with a sweaty, scruffy man. Not the first impression she’d planned to make. Not by a long shot. Beaming as much competent confidence as she could muster, Piper said, “Hello.”

  “I’m Hiromi Urso. With Winning Wines and Laudable Liquors.” He extended his hand, and gave a limp, if brisk, shake. “Your acreage is impressive. The view is spectacular. I’ve a feeling this article will write itself.”

  He made it easy for her to slip into her well-practiced sales mode. “Oh, we’ve more than just our good looks here at Morrissey Vineyards. You’ll have to be sure to sample our award-winning wines before you go.”

  “Trust me, that’s one of the best perks of this job. But I’ll have to postpone it until I’ve finished inveigling your secrets to success out of you. I spent the whole drive from Albany compiling my questions. How you plan to put your personal stamp on a long-flourishing family business. How you manage to stand out with so much competition squeezed around this breathtaking lake. How it feels to stand your ground in a still largely male-dominated field.”

  “Do I get to start answering? Or are you going to throw them all at me like confetti, and I just snatch one out of the air?”

  He pulled a phone out of his jacket pocket. “They’re all dictated on here. I won’t let you miss a single one.” Hiromi looked pointedly down to where Ward still held one of her hands. “Am I interrupting? Because I can go wander. Soak in the surroundings. You know, if you need a few minutes.”

  Ward gave a fast squeeze, then let go. “My bad. I dropped in without an appointment. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Piper couldn’t let him just leave. Not after how wonderful he’d been to her. It’d be good to get Hiromi to notice Ward’s distillery, too. They weren’t technically business rivals. If Ward got a short blurb in an upcoming issue, that would be great payback from her for his romantic gift of the berries. It was the right thing to do.

  “Wait. Don’t run off.” Piper put a hand on the small of his back to keep him in place. “Hiromi, this is one of my very best friends, Ward Cantrell.” She couldn’t bring herself to call Ward her boyfriend. It wasn’t professional. And their thirty-day dating experiment was too weird and complicated to bother trying to explain, anyway. “You probably passed his business, Lakeside Distillery, on the way here. The tall white tower? Ward makes the best grape-based liquors you’ll ever taste.”

  A long, thin finger shoved black cat’s-eye glasses higher on his nose. “Grape-based? That’s unusual.”

  “Well, it’s the Finger Lakes.” Ward extended an arm to encompass the acres of vines arcing down to the lake visible through the wall of windows. “We’ve got a ton of grapes. Morrissey Vineyards makes such great wine, I knew I couldn’t compete. So I went a different way.”

  Aww, he couldn’t have plugged her better if she’d scripted him. Piper beamed, then gave Ward a quick finger waggle of goodbye before pointing to the hallway. “Hiromi, why don’t I show you to my office? It’ll be more comfortable than standing out here. I can even have Jeffrey bring in a glass of wine for you. Do you prefer red or white?”

  He sidestepped her outstretched hand and peered up at Ward. “If you’re not talking some rotgut grappa, I’m intrigued. Grape-based spirits, you say? Such as?”

  “Vodka, gin, berry and cherry liqueurs. And a full line of traditional corn whiskeys.” Ward gave them both a nod. But before he could go, Hiromi crowded even closer. And completely turned his back on Piper in the process.

  “In this area, wit
h literally scores of wineries all trying to make their mark, it seems like your business would stand out. Are you the only distiller in the area?”

  “That I know of. But I’m sure some high school kid with more guts than sense has rigged up a half-assed still in a barn somewhere.” Ward chuckled. Hiromi let out a peal of high-pitched giggles.

  Piper could only drum up a wan smile. This wasn’t going well at all. Or rather, it was going great for Ward. It just wasn’t going well for her. Not now that Hiromi was looking at Ward with the same rapt attention she’d bestowed on him just a few minutes ago. Either the man had the hots for her boyfriend or the hots for his distillery. Either way, Piper felt ignored. Invisible. And distinctly worried about her interview.

  “Can I see your operation from here?”

  “Yeah.” Ward didn’t expound. Probably trying to cut things short. Turn Hiromi’s attention back to Piper. He’d never been much of a small-talker. It made it all the more special the times he did throw himself headlong into a conversation. Ward always had something good to say. He just didn’t always bother to share it.

  Well, she couldn’t leave Hiromi hanging. Not to mention this was her chance to get back in the conversation, even if it wasn’t about her or Morrissey Vineyards. With a nudge at his elbow, she guided Hiromi to the end of the counter and pointed to the distinctive white tower of Lakeside Distillery. “There it is. It makes a great neighboring business. Between the two of us, we’re bound to have something to please everyone’s palate.”

  “Breathtaking view.” He ran a hand over the smooth wood of the counter. Then he widened his stance, propped his elbows on it and just stared down at the picture-postcard sweep of green vines, blue lake and the trees on the other side just beginning to color up for autumn. “Orienting your tasting room to the lake, way up on this hill, was a smart choice. I’m sure the view helps people linger over their samples. This is one of the most visually impactful wineries I’ve ever visited. And that’s including all the big guns in Napa.”

  Whew. Piper smiled at the compliment, when she really felt like wiping the back of her hand across her forehead in utter relief. Things were back on track. Hiromi’s head was back in the game. Her game. The wine game. She’d make sure of it. “Jeffrey, would you please pour Mr. Urso a glass of our award-winning Viognier?”