by Tessa Layne
He gasped for air, head spinning. He must be concussed. It was the only explanation for this crazy hallucination. “Knew what?” None of this made any sense.
She shrugged, lifting her eyebrows and giving him a knowing half-smile. “I’ll tell you another time,” she murmured as she dropped a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. With a sigh tinged with regret, she pushed against him and scrambled to her feet, extending a hand. “Need help?”
Panic clawed at him. He needed to get up as gracefully and unobtrusively as possible, find Millie, get this romance basket Sterling had on the list and execute a tactical retrograde back to a safer part of town. Away from this beautiful woman with the blue eyes who made him forget who he was. Who made him dream of possibilities.
“I’m good,” he said a little too roughly as he rolled to his right side and settled his weight on his left leg. Always use your meat leg when rising from a fall. His OT’s voice jangled in his head. Bracing his core, he rose, dusted himself off, and stared down at the beauty who barely came to his shoulder.
God in heaven, did someone have it in for him up there? Condemning him to a life of longing for what he could never have? She was curvy everywhere. Breasts high and pert, full enough to fill his palms, just like he liked. And the way she kept looking at him, like she knew him. Like she liked him. More than liked him. His heart thunked a little harder. If he stood here much longer he’d be a goner, and where would that leave him then? She slid her hands into her back pockets and stared up at him expectantly. Like she was waiting for him to speak. He scraped a hand across his jaw. “So maybe you can help me? I’m looking for Millie. I’m here to pick up a basket for Resolution Ranch.”
She grinned up at him, blue eyes dancing. “Follow me.” She opened the door and sailed in like she worked there, catching the door so it wouldn’t slam shut on him.
Jason covered a laugh as the scent of patchouli and lavender hit his nose, and hardwood creaked under his boots. Against the back wall stood a small refrigerated and freezer section with signs for items like “farm fresh eggs,” “grass-fed local beef,” “Sinclaire bison,” and his favorite, “goat-milk yogurt.” His mouth quirked. Who knew that hippies hid out in Prairie? All that was missing was the mysterious Millie who was probably in the storeroom washing produce in Birkenstocks, dangly earrings and desperately in need of a razor. “Where’s Millie?”
She must not have heard him. She wove through the displays of fresh bread, flowers, and beeswax candles to a counter on the far side of the store. An enormous woven basket stood wrapped in pale pink cellophane, filled with beauty items and several books with shirtless men on the covers. Next to the basket stood a case of wine. Sealed with bottle caps. Heaven help the poor sucker who had to choke down that. It was probably closer to soda-pop than wine.
The woman turned, pride on her face. “I made the basket from last spring’s willow cuttings.”
“It’s very nice.” The kind of thing his step-mother would snap up to bring home for a bit of local color. “But can you tell me where I can find Millie? I have a receipt of donation for her.”
“I’m Millie, silly. Didn’t you know?” She held out her hand for the receipt.
He went hot, then cold. Then gulped, frantically trying to wrap his head around the disconnect. This little bit of a woman who kissed him like there was no tomorrow, who made him feel for the first time in years, was Millie Prescott? But where were the long skirts and tattoos? Where were the layers of dirt from infrequent bathing and never wearing shoes? “But I thought Millie was a hippie?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Hurt flickered briefly in her eyes. If only the floor would open up and swallow him now.
She shrugged it off with a half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay. I know that’s what everyone calls me.” She inhaled deeply, then slowly breathed out. “I don’t mind. They’re not saying it to be mean.”
But she looked like she minded. Very much. And that made him an ass. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It’s only–”
“You’re surprised I don’t look like someone you’d find in the heart of Haight-Ashbury?” She arched an eyebrow, sass lacing her words. “That I wear deodorant, and I like expensive perfume?” She crossed her arms.
“You smell very good,” he murmured, but she didn’t hear him. The little firecracker was on a roll.
“Just because my family started the first organic farm here doesn’t mean I’m a hippie. Just because I use biodynamic practices to make my wine like some of the farms in Europe doesn’t mean I’m a hippie either. What even is a hippie?” Her eyes dared him to argue.
He shouldn’t take the bait. He should thank her for her time and stay as far away from her heated kisses as possible. But he couldn’t resist. “Wait. You’re one of those biodynamic zealots? Everyone knows they’re the ideas of a con-man selling snake oil.” He shook his head. “Stick to the science and you’ll get good wine every time.”
She scowled at him, two streaks of pink bursting across her cheeks. She was cute, riled up. But oh, so wrong.
“You’re the one who doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Biodynamic methods are about infusing the grapes with your energy and life-force.”
How could she say that with a straight face? “And can you prove that it works? How do you quantify life-force?” He had her there.
She narrowed her eyes. “Do you still feel the missing part of your leg?”
Yes.
He froze, mouth open to make a comeback, but the words evaporated. He snapped shut his mouth and glared at her. How dare she ask him something so… personal? For that matter, how could she tell? He’d worked and worked on his gait to the point that most people were surprised to learn he was a below-the-knee amputee.
His heart sank to the floor. Of course. The baseball game. Everyone in Prairie who attended the exhibition game last March had seen his prosthetic. He clenched his jaw against the regret that surged through him. He couldn’t even feel normal for five fucking minutes. Once again, his goddamned leg sealed his fate before he’d even gotten started. And Sterling wondered why he didn’t bother to date.
She stepped into his space, lifting her chin to maintain eye contact. “You do, don’t you?”
She placed a hand on his right thigh and a zing of electricity shot through him. His heart started to pound, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. What in the hell? How could she unbalance him so easily?
Her eyes filled with tears. “I feel it too. Your body misses your leg.”
Of course, he missed his leg. What sane person wouldn’t?
Her voice grew hushed, reverent. “That’s your life force. Every living thing has it.”
“Enough.” He stepped back, chest tightening at the sudden loss of her touch. “I don’t need a lesson in metaphysics.”
The look of disappointment on her face punched him in the gut. What was wrong with him? Millie was causing him to lose his shit. Maybe he needed to call his peer mentor. He shook his head, determined to find some kind of emotional purchase. “I have to go.” He covered the distance to the door in record time.
Her voice floated after him. “But what about–”
He waved a hand over his head, eyes focused on the buildings across the street. “Someone will come for it.”
CHAPTER 3
Millie paced across the giant sun and moon mosaic that comprised her back porch, stopping to stare at a particularly deep green stone at the edge. Her instincts must be off. There was no way a man like Mr. Grouchy Veteran could be the faceless man of her dreams. Ever since she’d awakened from a dream about her wedding day the morning of her seventeenth birthday, she’d been convinced she’d recognize the man of her dreams with a kiss. Believed it with all her heart. And the kiss with the steely-eyed brawny man had been… everything. A shudder rippled through her, heating her all the way to her toes.
She crossed the patio again, searching for her favorite stone, a brilliant cobalt in one of the
moonbeams, the one that was the exact shade of her mother’s eyes. Her heart swelled when she found it, winking at her in the late afternoon sun. And just as quickly, deflated as she contemplated the gift basket and case of wine standing in the center of her patio table.
Her nostrils flared as she huffed out a breath. Ooh, the man made her so mad. How dare he scoff at her ideas? She might try to live gently on the earth, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy things like bubble baths and fancy perfume. And what did he know about wine-making? About biodynamic farming? Not that she was an expert by any means. But she got the job done. And she was proud of her efforts.
With a sigh, she dropped into a chair, propping her chin on her hand. She had half a mind to stay home tonight, rip open the basket and take a long hot soak surrounded by candles and moonlight. But her conscience pricked at her. She wanted to help Resolution Ranch get off the ground, and although Travis had turned down her offer of this year’s entire supply of wine, they’d been happy to have her put together something for the silent auction. It would be bad karma to sit here and sulk when some person, most likely one of the local rancher’s wives, could benefit from a little romance and TLC.
Next to the gift basket, her phone vibrated, and Jamey Sinclaire’s name popped up on the screen. Forcing herself to smile, she picked up. “Jamey, how are you?”
“Hope and I promised to arrive early at Resolution Ranch and help with the final set-up, can we catch a ride?”
Decision made. The Universe always provided an answer. “Of course. I need to bring over my gift basket and wine.”
“I thought Sterling said Jason had come for it?”
So that was his name. Jason. In an instant, heat flashed through her.
“He came, but he left just as quickly.”
“OH?” Jamey’s voice begged for more. “Spill it.”
Millie pressed her fingers to a cheek, failing to extinguish the flames. “It’s nothing. I think Mercury must be in retrograde.”
Jamey snorted. “There is so much more to this story than you’re letting on. But I’ll let you off the hook for the moment. See you in ten?”
“Sure.”
Jamey hung up, and Millie tossed the phone back onto the table, struck with an idea. She hurried inside and upstairs to the loft she’d converted into a bedroom. Throwing open the closet, she rifled through the heaps of clothing until she found her favorite long crinkle skirt, a vibrant mix of blues and patterns that always put a spring in her step when she wore it. Grabbing a white off-the-shoulder top and the brand-new pair of electric blue cowboy boots she’d purchased from Lydia Grace, she quickly changed. If grumpy G.I. Joe thought he had her pegged, he had another thing coming.
Reaching for her favorite perfume, she spritzed generously and inhaled deeply. The combination of rose, almond, and orange blossom always gave her a boost – pulled her back to an earlier time of running freely through vineyards and orchards, climbing trees and dreaming of her future. Donning her great-aunt Millie’s silver bracelets and turquoise ring, she glanced in the mirror. Not exactly cowgirl or hippie, but definitely her. Let someone dare to put her in a box. “Take that, Jason Whoever-you-are,” she said into the mirror. The reflection staring back at her was not quite complete. Tonight called for lip-gloss and earrings. Except for the weddings that seemed to happen with increasing frequency, Prairie was pretty laid back, with few opportunities to dress up. But if ever there was a night to go all out, it was tonight. She swiped a bit of pink gloss over her lips, gave them a smack, then hooked in her favorite silver dangly earrings she’d purchased on a trip she’d taken to Mexico in her early twenties.
Was it enough? Calling down courage from the heavens, she twirled in front of the mirror, unsure whether her hasty preparation had done the job. She could acknowledge she looked good. But was it enough to arm her for another encounter with the man who rocked her world this morning? Giving it up to the Universe, she turned with an extra swish of her hips and took the steps two at a time.
In spite of Jamey and Hope’s cajoling, she managed to remain tight-lipped the entire drive over to Resolution Ranch. “But I’ve never seen you upset, Millie,” pointed out Jamey as they hiked up the half-mile drive from where Millie had parked her ancient VW Bus on the road.
Millie shrugged. “Just an off day.”
“You don’t have off days, Millie,” added Hope. “You’re the most relentlessly positive, calm, centered person I know.”
“Right?” Jamey nodded vigorously. “I wish I could bottle you up. The world needs a stronger dose of Millie.”
“I’m not so sure,” she murmured, insecurity crashing over her like a rogue wave at a surfer beach.
Jamey narrowed her eyes, looking like she wanted to press the issue further, but Sterling Walker, Resolution Ranch’s foreman, intercepted them.
“I’m so sorry about this morning, Millie,” he said with outstretched arms. “I don’t know what got into Jason.”
“I know what happened.” Jamey smirked. “He was so taken with Millie, he forgot what he came for.”
Millie’s chest burned. “I don’t know about that.”
Sterling’s eyes lit. “Wouldn’t that be an interesting turn of events?”
Ignoring his comment, Millie tilted her head at the case Jamey held. “I added a case of this year’s bottling. That way, the winner can enjoy wine with her bath and books.”
Sterling’s smile froze. “Fantastic. Silent auction is to the left of the stage. You’ll see the assigned space. Thanks, Millie.”
A lump formed in her throat. It was the wine. Nobody liked the wine and no one would tell her. Maybe if she convinced Sterling to taste it, he’d feel differently. This year’s bottling was so much better than the previous. She blinked hard, giving herself a mental shake. The point of the auction was to help Resolution Ranch, not receive accolades for her wine. All that mattered was the money raised for the ranch. Even if the recipient of her basket poured out every bottle. The wine was a spur-of-the-moment bonus anyway. The real treasure was the basket with all the items from her family’s farm, Moonbeam Acres – the soap, honey, and lavender salt scrub, the whole-grain cookies, candles, and teas… and most importantly, three of her favorite romance novels. The world needed more romance, more love. And what better way than to spread a little love right here in Prairie?
The women made their way to the silent auction tables filled with items from Prairie and beyond – paintings, handmade blankets, even a weekend at a cabin in Colorado. Millie placed her basket in the allotted space, right next to a colorful handmade quilt. “Do you think this will sell?”
“Of course,” Hope answered, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’d be thrilled to go home with this. I could use a little revitalizing.”
Millie looked at her sharply, understanding dawning. Hope was pregnant. She could feel it. New life transformed a woman’s energy. Excitement raced through her. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
Hope’s eyes grew wide and she blushed, shaking her head.
Unable to stop herself, Millie placed a palm on Hope’s belly. Energy zinged through her, heating her palm, and she broke into a grin. “You are, aren’t you?” Before Hope could confirm or deny, Millie rushed on. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“C’mon. Let’s go sit down,” said Jamey, dragging Millie from the table. “I packed sandwiches for dinner, including a vegetarian one for you.”
“I brought a couple bottles of this year’s wine. It’s my best yet.” She pulled one from her bag.
Hope and Jamey exchanged dubious glances. “I’ll pass,” said Hope, looking a little peaked.
Yep. Definitely pregnant.
Millie held out a cup. “Jamey? You know how much I value your opinion.”
Placing a hand on her belly, Jamey shook her head. “I’m… ah… taking a break from wine for a while.”
Millie gasped, eyebrows shooting skyward. “You too?” she squealed unable to contain her excitemen
t.
“Shhhh.” Jamey looked over her shoulder. “Hope’s farther along than I am, and it’s too soon to tell anyone.”
Millie crossed her hands over her heart, filled with unspeakable joy for her friends. “I’m so happy for both of you. If you stop by the store, I can mix up some pregnancy tea. It helps with nausea and is rich in calcium and iron.”
“I don’t know about Hope, but I’ll drink anything to stop the late afternoon gagging. It’s impacting my cooking.” Jamey gave Millie a sympathetic look. “Sorry I can’t help with the wine. Any other time, you know I’d be happy to help. But maybe Jason could taste it.”
Millie made a face. “Jason?” What would the grumpy vet know about wine?
“Yeah.” Jamey nodded. “I’m sure he knows a thing or two about wine. The Case family is sponsoring the concert tonight.”
Millie’s heart clutched. “Wait. You mean Jason is Jason Case?” Somebody kill her now. No wonder he was so disdainful about her winemaking practices. The Case Family Wineries were California’s biggest and oldest wine conglomerate. The family was like royalty. Headquartered on a sprawling vineyard in Napa, they had interests in nearly every growing region in California. Their wines were sold everywhere. Jason’s behavior made sense now. The Case family was like the Big Ag of wine, growing thousands of acres of vines. What was a little family farm grower, a hobbyist to someone like them?
Jamey nodded. “You didn’t know that?” She cocked her head, eyes lighting. “Did he knock your socks off or something when he dropped by? You always learn everything you can about someone who walks into your store. This isn’t like you.”
Heat burst across her chest. Between her fall and the kiss, she had been a little distracted.
“Millie,” Hope said with a laugh. “You’re blushing.”
“Am not,” she muttered, wincing as the heat crept up her neck.
Jamey chuckled. “You’re as red as a berry. What happened today?”
“What do you think happened, James?” Hope giggled and waggled her eyebrows.
