If Wishes Were Horses

by Jm Cartwright

  One arm around Maria, Danny clapped a hand on Trey’s shoulder. “Funny, kid.”

  “Uh, if all of you people don’t mind, can we get back to what I’d consider a slightly more important subject?” Angel stepped away from Brandon and raised both hands, elbows bent. “My Valentine’s Day surprise has been ruined.”

  “Apparently so has Danny’s,” Brandon reminded Angel.

  Angel ducked his head at that. “Oh. Uh. Yeah.” His chest expanded on a deep breath.

  Brandon shook his head at his lover. “Give him a break, huh?”

  “But I-I just really wanted—” Angel rubbed his hands over his face. “What a mess.” He glanced around, gaze bouncing between the kids and the adults before settling on Maria. “Lo siento, Mamá. I’m sorry.”

  Maria cupped his face and reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Angel.” She stepped back next to Danny.

  Angel’s gaze followed Danny’s arm going across Maria’s shoulders. Brandon watched, wondering what was going through Angel’s mind.

  Maria cleared her throat. Angel jerked his eyes up, and Brandon spotted a hint of a blush on his brown cheeks. “Um. Sorry to you too, Danny.”

  Danny waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, Angel.”

  Brandon smiled. The vintner was gracious as always.

  “Um.” Angel coughed. “Anyway,” he continued, “um, I was kind of thinking. There are some small storage rooms down in the caves that we’re making into private dining spaces for couples. I was holding a few of them for last-minute bookings. So.” He glanced down at his feet, then back up again. “If you want”—he reached a hand over to his mother—“um, you and Danny could have dinner in one of them.”

  Brandon felt a flush of warmth go through him. Angel really was a nice guy. The man tried so hard to hide that fact most of the time, though. Maybe too hard, sometimes.

  “Oh Angel, my son, that’s amazing. It’s so sweet of you. Are you sure? You won’t get into trouble with Cliff?”

  Angel shook his head almost negligently. “Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

  Almost dancing in place, Maria hugged him again. Her eyes shone as she stared over Angel’s shoulder at Danny. “Amado, won’t that be wonderful?”

  Danny rumbled his agreement, stepping forward and hesitantly patting Angel on the back. “Thanks, kid.” He gave a slight grin. “I mean it. That’s really nice of you.” Danny bowed his head for a second. “I’m sorry I ruined your surprise.”

  Angel impressed Brandon even more when he shrugged good-naturedly. The man had clearly recovered his equilibrium. “Hey, no sweat, hombre. Enjoy. Now I don’t have to really think about you two getting married, since I have to concentrate on the winery for Valentine’s Day.” He sent a smirky grin to Brandon. “Now that the pressure’s off, I’ll be golden that night. I can focus on the tour, making sure everyone has a good time, that kind of thing.”

  “Really, sugar?” Brandon started to feel just the tiniest bit snarky. His marriage proposal seemed to have evaporated while Angel focused on the grand winery campaign. “You might want to rethink your little plan there. Seems to me you’ve got a heck of a lot more going on than just your itty-bitty tour.” Brandon gave Angel the stink-eye. “Your mother is getting married whether you like it or not. And to a guy that we all like. Including you, you little snot. And I’m sure she’d appreciate some support. Right, Maria?” He nodded toward his—perhaps?—future mother-in-law, who bit her lip.

  “Yes, she would,” Danny agreed. He hugged Maria closer.

  Angel’s eyes once again followed the movement.

  Brandon again felt a spurt of sympathy. He simply couldn’t relate to Angel’s angst, since Brandon and his mother hadn’t spoken in twenty years, but he knew it had to be hard for Angel to let Danny into the close relationship between Maria and her son.

  “Angel, you know you like Mr. Danny. You told me you did.” Marisa piped up from the kitchen chair, where she’d moved to set up her doll.

  “True that.” Trey lifted his head briefly from his handheld game console. He was definitely grinning now.

  Angel grunted as he acknowledged the two kids with a shrug. “Yeah. I guess.”

  Brandon almost—almost—wanted to chuckle at the way Angel now resembled a chastened schoolboy. “Well, there is one more thing.” Brandon straightened and turned to face his lovable, flamboyant, frustrating man. “That proposal thing you were planning?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re going to have to ask me again.”

  Chapter Eleven

  On Tuesday evening they had the talk.

  Angel and Brandon had a heart-to-heart about job offers and moving, and they’d finally spoken calmly about just what the television offer meant to Brandon individually and to the family altogether.

  “Sugar, there is no way I’m making this decision without knowing how you feel about it. How everybody feels about it.”

  They sat on the white leather sofa in front of the fire while the kids perched nervously on the green velvet club chairs flanking the couch. The children each held a game controller. They’d been playing Call of Duty in the television area on the other side of the living room and now seemed to be holding the components as a sort of talisman, staring at them.

  Angel kind of knew how they felt.

  Brandon continued. “This isn’t something to decide on my own.” He shook his head, expression serious as he looked at all three of them. “I want to hear what each of you think.”

  Not a one of them had spoken, all three avoiding looking at each other. The silence had dragged out a minute or so, and finally Angel felt like an idiot. He was the adult, wasn’t he? It was understandable that the kids didn’t know what to say, but for crying out loud, couldn’t he figure out what to do?

  “Jeez Louise.” More proof that he’d learned to temper his vocabulary in the last three years. He turned sideways to face his lover. “Slugger.” That nickname always made Brandon’s eyes shine. “I’ll admit I was the first one to bi—uh, complain when we came up here from LA three years ago.”

  That got the kids’ attention, and both Marisa and Trey looked up.

  “It’s not something that comes…well, comes easy to me, but I want you to know. I really like it up here. Well, I guess I kind of love it here. I love having the kids, I love working at the winery.” He met Brandon’s gaze. “I love you.” He exhaled heavily. “But I honestly and truly think you should do whatever you want to do.” He briefly raised his hands. “I’ve been thinking about nothing else since this came up. I realized I was being kind of a di—uh, a jerk.” He grimaced as he caught himself in time. “We-we all need to do what makes us happy.” Angel looked down for a second. “Coming up here led me to a great job, and-and this family. But-but that shouldn’t…shouldn’t make you feel like you can’t go do what you want. What makes you happy.”

  There. He’d said it.

  And he realized he meant it. Even if it meant uprooting the family, and possibly Brandon being pulled back into a world way more exciting than Cave Junction, Oregon.

  “Thank you, sugar.” Brandon’s voice was husky.

  Angel smiled faintly before nodding to the children. “Kids, what do you think? Do you feel the same? Or different?” He nudged Trey’s knee with his toe. “How about you go first, muchacho?”

  Trey had a hunted look on his face, and he swallowed hard as he clutched his controller. “Why me? I don’t know.”

  “Just tell us what you think about Brandon being offered a job back in California.” Angel wiggled his fingers encouragingly. “There is no right or wrong answer. Just be honest. If I can do it, you can do it.”

  Trey slid forward and balanced his elbows on his knees. “Okay.” He stared at both men defiantly. “Honestly? I think it sucks.”

  Angel darted a glance at Marisa. The little girl had a worried look on her face. “What about you, chica?”

  “Um.” Marisa kicked her feet against the chair bottom. “I
don’t know. I guess it’s okay. But who will we live with?” She gazed back and forth between both Angel and Brandon. “Are we going back…back to Pastor Jim’s house?”

  “No!”

  “No! No way!”

  Angel and Brandon answered at the same time.

  Angel’s heart melted at the fear and uncertainty in both the children. “Whatever Brandon decides, we’ll still be a family. I promise you that.” He slid closer to Brandon and linked hands with his lover. “Right, Slugger?”

  Brandon nodded emphatically. “Yes, my love. And yes”—he nodded to the children—“we are a family.” He pointed his index finger and circled it around to all four of them. “And I have to tell all of you, when Trey and I talked last week, for maybe the first time really talked to each other about things that matter, it hit home for me just what I’ve got here. I’ve got myself a real, honest-to-goodness family. A man I love”—Brandon slid his arm over Angel’s shoulder—“and two of the best kids on the planet.”

  Angel’s heart had started pounding, and he was almost afraid to guess what Brandon’s decision was going to be. He thought he could tell, but what if? He looked quickly at the kids and saw the expressions of hope on their adorable little faces.

  Maybe he wasn’t the only one who was thinking—hoping?—it was going to work out okay.

  Brandon slid off the couch onto his knees, then sat back on his heels. He gestured to Angel and the kids. “C’mere.”

  Angel obligingly knelt next to his lover and circled an arm around Marisa when she plopped beside him.

  Trey begrudgingly crouched next to Brandon.

  “So. I figure it this way.” Brandon moved his gaze to each of them as he spoke. “What I have is what a lot of people dream about. And I’d be damned stupid to give it up for some TV show that might be fun, might be exciting.” He nudged Trey’s thigh. “But I want to go on the camping trip. And I want to be here, not working on the weekends, when you have your school dance next month.” He reached across to Marisa and dragged her onto his lap. “And I darned sure want to be here when my little girl starts dating.” He leaned down to nuzzle her hair. “Even though you’re not allowed to date until you’re thirty-five.”

  Marisa giggled madly, hugging Brandon tightly.

  Angel felt his throat tighten.

  “You’re not allowed to date until you’re forty, young man.” Brandon arched a brow at Trey. That surprised a laugh out of the boy, and Angel breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You sound pretty sure about this, amado. You’re not gonna get another offer like this if you turn this one down. You know that, right?” Angel was pretty sure about that, given his years at Hill. Companies throwing money around didn’t like to be refused.

  “Yup.” Brandon rocked Marisa as he met Angel’s gaze over the girl’s head. “I know that.” He tugged Trey close with one arm. “And I’m okay with it.”

  * * * *

  Shit, shit, shit. Angel paced back and forth behind the maître d’ station. It was nine o’clock in the evening on Valentine’s Day, and all the tables and private rooms in the caves were filled.

  Except one.

  The most important one.

  The one that was set up and ready for a certain blond Slugger, who’d been pretty damned cagey as to whether he was planning on showing up tonight.

  Angel had reserved that room for eight thirty sharp, the last seating. He’d made the reservation as late as he could so he’d be available to handle any emergencies or lend assistance if anybody needed it. So far, though, they’d managed to have just a few fumbles and missteps. The caterer had forgotten to load a strategic part of the table centerpieces, but Angel and his team had quickly come up with a credible substitute by taking some of the flowers from the tasting room and setting them in empty wine bottles. It was simple yet elegant, and thank God, it worked. The other issues had been fairly minor.

  But right now? Now that everyone else in southwestern Oregon was dining with a sweetheart on Valentine’s Day? It wasn’t looking too good for Angel. He’d been such a smart-ass dick the night Danny had initiated the marriage proposal clusterfuck that he might just have screwed the pooch.

  He muttered under his breath as he paced. “Pinche idiota.” He still felt bad—and guilty—about the way he’d overreacted to Danny’s surprising announcement. “You had to go all postal on the guy, didn’t you?” Angel was lucky that his mother was so deliriously happy with her own proposal she’d forgiven him for his behavior that night. Maria had practically floated into the caves this evening.

  She and Danny were in room number three and being well taken care of by Cliff himself. The winery owner had jumped to volunteer when Angel had let it slip about Maria and Danny’s engagement.

  Lizzie was working the tasting room, and by all accounts was labeling it a very successful night for Ridgecrest.

  Angel just wished he could celebrate all the good things happening tonight. He wasn’t sure that Brandon was ready to say yes. After the way Angel had acted, it would be hard to blame the man.

  For some dumb reason, that stupid saying of Brandon’s grandmother whispered in his head.

  If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

  He was beginning to understand. He’d done what he could in the name of damage control the previous Sunday, apologizing and shaking hands with Danny, hugging his mother, joking with the kids that yes, absolutely he liked Danny.

  Which really wasn’t a stretch. He did like the guy. He just didn’t really want anyone dating his mother. Or marrying her. Or sleeping with her.

  He shuddered now, thinking about it.

  And yes, he’d also agreed, absolutely, wouldn’t it be great if Brandon said yes.

  But his Slugger had been tight-lipped on the answer. The man wouldn’t even discuss it this past week. Brandon would still not talk about the proposal.

  Angel sighed, remembering the wonderful closeness of Tuesday evening. And the fantastic sex he and Brandon had enjoyed that night.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “Angel?” The voice of the maître d’ broke into his musings. He stopped his pacing and turned to face his assistant, Edward.

  “Yes?”

  “Since your party didn’t show, is it okay to put a latecomer in the last private room?” Edward held the desk phone to his ear. “Yes, sir.” He nodded. “I’m checking.” Edward arched his brows in inquiry. “Will that be okay, Angel?”

  Shoulders slumping, Angel nodded. “I guess, Edward. No point in waiting any longer.” He turned away as he heard Edward confirming the available table with the caller.

  Angel roamed the dining room, checking on the service. He bussed tables here and there, refilled wineglasses, and greeted customers, many of whom he’d come to know. But he was very glad to see a large number of new people, knowing that meant future business for the winery.

  Cliff approached him from the direction of the private rooms. “Hey there. Your momma and Danny are having a grand old time.” His boss snorted. “I’ve never seen Danny so relaxed. He’s pretty funny when he’s around your mom. She must bring out the best in him. Usually he doesn’t say more than five words at a time.”

  Angel gave him a sideways look. “I guess. They do seem to make each other happy.”

  “What’s the matter, boy? Why are you so down at the mouth? You see how many customers we got in here? And in the tasting room? Hoo-ee, son, we gonna make some money tonight.”

  Angel scuffed his three-hundred-dollar loafers against the concrete floor of the caves. “Brandon didn’t come for dinner tonight.”

  Cliff snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, that’s right! We put someone else in your little room. Too bad, huh?”

  Angel’s mouth dropped open. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic, you old bastard.”

  “Son, I’m too busy seeing dollar signs. Thanks to you, I might add.”

  Angel grunted and stuck his hands in his pants pockets. The Armani tux showed off all his best assets, b
ut right then, he didn’t give a damn. He’d worn the suit for Brandon, but apparently it was going to go to waste tonight.

  “Oh! Ed wanted me to mention that the folks in room eight were asking for you.”

  “He likes to be called Edward,” Angel said absently. “Number eight?” He looked across the cave toward the small storage rooms they’d converted to romantic dining rooms. “But that’s the one that I…” He scowled at Cliff. “You go see what they want.”

  Cliff was already shaking his head. “Nope. They specifically asked for you. Probably want to complain about something, huh?” He chuckled and headed toward the screens hiding the kitchen area from the diners. “Let me know how it goes, eh?”

  “Bastard,” Angel muttered. Straightening his jacket, he pushed his shoulders back and headed for room eight. Whatever it was, he’d get it over with quickly. He was going to see if Lizzie would switch with him and let him take over in the tasting room.

  He was getting sick of watching lovers moon over each other.

  * * * *

  Brandon watched the door of room eight. He was hoping Angel was going to walk through it any moment.

  “Now you kids remember what we’re going to say to Angel when he gets here?” Brandon waved his hand encouragingly at Trey and Marisa.

  “Uh-huh,” Trey mumbled. Marisa bobbed her head, a huge smile on her face.

  Just then Brandon heard Angel’s voice on the other side of the door. His heart began a thumping beat. “Okay, he’s coming. Get ready.” He motioned with his head, and the children hid behind the table edge. Brandon stood behind the door, palms a little sweaty.

  As the door handle turned, he held his finger to his lips, silently shushing Marisa, who was so excited she was practically squeaking.

  Angel was speaking as he came through the door. “I’m sorry to keep you wait—” His voice petered out as he moved farther into the room.

  Brandon took a deep breath, then tossed the long-stemmed red rose he held onto the table.

  Angel froze.

  “A single red rose means I love you.” Brandon’s voice was raspy.