I pulled her to me and held her close, my chest suddenly tight. The way she’d initiated that kiss felt so good. It gave me hope.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked, softly into my ear.
I squeezed her and pulled back. “I really do, but I’m not going to tonight. I think it’s best if I go.”
She smiled and took my hand. Our fingers twined together, and she gave me that little smile again. “Okay. Goodnight, Roland.”
“Goodnight, Zoe.”
I let go and stepped away, the words I love you lying unspoken on my lips.
Twenty-Three
Zoe
Two more days. In forty-eight hours, Victoria Jones would be Victoria Cockburn, and my bridezilla client no longer. Assuming I survived. At this point, that was debatable.
She’d arrived this morning, appearing at the Big House even though we didn’t have an appointment until tomorrow for her rehearsal. But she’d wanted to go over every detail, plus tour the grounds again. While we walked through the back gardens, she’d picked apart the decor choices and layout—all things she’d chosen weeks, if not months ago. By the time she left two hours later, the inside of my lip was raw from biting it and my palms had fingernail marks from clenching my fists.
Two days. I could handle Cocksmash for two more days.
The bulk of the setup would be done tomorrow, but we didn’t have anything scheduled in the main garden between now and then. I decided to get some of the twinkle lights up. I didn’t always do the decorating myself, but today I wanted to be outside—and alone for a while. Hanging strings of lights in the trees sounded like a great way to kill a couple of hours. It would give me time to think.
Considering I was dating my ex-husband, I certainly had a lot on my mind.
We’d been dating for weeks now. We saw each other at work. Kissed a lot. Went out to dinner, or for drinks. He’d even taken me to a musical at a local theater. We’d had a blast. Some days we spent hours simply talking. Catching up on work. On life. Everything.
And the sex. Oh god, the sex. It was better than it had ever been.
But despite how much fun we were having together, a current of uncertainty ran beneath everything. Where was this going? Technically, Roland still lived in San Francisco. He seemed to be managing to do his job from here, although I knew it was a strain. But that couldn’t last forever. He’d been here for two months. His boss had to insist he come back eventually. And there was no way I was moving to San Francisco to be with him. I liked the city fine, but there was a reason I’d left. I wasn’t interested in a repeat of four years ago. Fuck that.
Why was now any different?
I was struggling to answer that question with something more concrete than he seems different now. But he did. He was. The Roland I’d left wouldn’t have stayed in Echo Creek this long, no matter what had been happening. He wouldn’t have discovered his dad’s affair. He wouldn’t have been here long enough to notice something was wrong. The Roland of four years ago would have shown up, thrown some money around, and left.
But he hadn’t. He’d stayed.
He’d been coming out of his office earlier and having dinners with his mom. Hanging out with his brothers in the evenings or on weekends. Last week he’d gone to Tilikum to help Brynn pick up a bed for her new apartment.
All this from the guy who, four years ago, couldn’t have been in the same room as his brothers for more than five minutes without fighting. Who’d barely remembered his little sister existed.
I was seeing the Roland I remembered from before San Francisco. From before he’d gotten so wrapped up in his work—in career advancement, promotions, moving up, making money, impressing the bosses. He’d measured his happiness and worth based on his job title and salary. Nothing had mattered more. Not even me.
The Roland I saw now cared about more than money. He was concerned for his family, and their business. Spending time with the people he loved instead of working fourteen-hour days. I’d seen him smile, and even laugh. His father had dropped one of the biggest bombshells of his life, and even that hadn’t driven him to bury himself in his work.
But would it last? Was this the real Roland, and the workaholic I’d been married to had been a phase? A product of poor judgment and misplaced priorities? Or was he simply reverting to remembered behaviors since he was here, and the moment he set foot in San Francisco, he’d go right back to being the guy who’d do anything to further his career, even at the expense of his marriage?
I didn’t know.
We’d reconnected in a way I couldn’t deny. On a level that went so much deeper than physical. He’d told me more than once now that he wanted me. At first that had been easy to brush aside—assume he meant he wanted to sleep with me. But that wasn’t what he’d been saying.
He wanted to give us another chance. And despite how great the last few weeks had been, I was pretty fucking scared.
I was risking a lot by letting him in again. I’d given my heart to him once, and he’d tossed it aside. Was I crazy? Could a relationship like ours really have a second chance? We hadn’t just dated and broken up. We’d gotten married, and then divorced. That was serious shit.
Times like this, I wished I had a better relationship with my mom. It would have been nice to be able to call her and tell her what was going on. Ask for her advice. I loved my mom, but we weren’t close. We never had been. She’d always looked at me like she wasn’t quite sure where I’d come from. And her advice about Roland would probably consist of You have a good head on your shoulders, you’ll figure it out. She meant well, but I think she was perpetually confused when it came to me.
I stood on a ladder, propped up against a plum tree, and finished hanging a third strand of twinkle lights. I figured one more on this tree would do the trick.
“Hey, up there.”
I looked down to find Ben standing near the base of the ladder. He was dressed in his usual Salishan Cellars t-shirt, worn jeans, and work boots. He was a good-looking guy, especially for his age, with a warm smile I’d always appreciated.
“Hey, Ben.” I climbed down the ladder and brushed my hands together. “What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you a minute?” he asked.
“Yeah, of course.”
“What do you know about… the things that have been going on?” he asked, his voice halting, like he wasn’t quite sure if we should talk about it.
The winery employees knew that Lawrence was gone, but the details had been kept vague. I think most people suspected the truth, but respected Shannon’s privacy. They knew Lawrence had moved out and was no longer in charge.
If anyone else had asked, I would have hedged the question. But Ben wasn’t just an employee. He’d been around since Roland and his siblings were kids.
“Roland found out his dad was having an affair,” I said.
Ben’s face went very still, but I could see the flash of anger in his eyes. “I see.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s awful,” I said. “Shannon kicked him out.”
“So Lawrence really is gone?” Ben asked.
I nodded. “He went to his mistress, apparently. If he had any hope of fixing this, I’m pretty sure that killed it. There’s no way Shannon will take him back.”
“I should beat the shit out of that sniveling little punk,” he said under his breath.
I laughed. He’d reminded me of Cooper just then. “That I would love to see.”
“Sorry,” he said, scowling. “Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“It’s fine. I don’t blame you.”
He blinked a few times, his eyes focusing on something in the distance.
“I wouldn’t worry about Salishan, though,” I said. “I’m not sure how things will shake out legally, but Roland isn’t worried. They’ve already talked to a lawyer.”
“Right.” Ben’s phone rang, and he jerked, like it had startled him. He brought it to his ear. “Yeah? Uh-oh. Do you need me to call Chase? Okay, good. Yeah
, I’ll be right there.” He ended the call and slipped his phone in his back pocket.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Bottling machine is down,” he said. “Chase is over there, but we were already a week behind on the bottling schedule. This isn’t good.”
Bottling had to be done on a precise schedule, based largely on the age of the wine. If they were already behind, this delay could be costly—something Salishan did not need right now.
Ben started for the work houses, and I followed. There probably wasn’t much I could do, but I figured I should see if I could help.
The work houses were a short walk from the Big House. While the Big House was Salishan’s public face, the work houses were where the real work of winemaking was done. This was where the grapes came in at harvest to be de-stemmed and crushed. The cellars housed enormous fermentation tanks, as well as the barrel cellars where wine was stored for aging. Another building was the bottling facility, with a complex series of machines that bottled, corked, labeled, and boxed the wines.
Inside the bottling room, Shannon was busy giving orders, directing people where to go and what to do. It looked like half the winery employees were here. I saw Chase on a ladder, hard at work on the machinery. Everyone else was busy diverting the flow of work to hand-bottle the wine.
It was good to see Shannon in her element. She looked good. Tough. I wasn’t sure how she was doing underneath it all, but I was proud of her for being here and taking charge.
Ben paused next to me. He seemed to be watching Shannon. She looked over at us and her mouth turned up in a smile. Ben gave her a brief nod, then went over to help Chase.
I saw Roland talking to one of the employees.
“This doesn’t look good,” I said.
“It’s a nightmare,” he said. “This could not have come at a worse time.”
“Ben said we’re already behind schedule,” I said.
Roland nodded. “Apparently my dad was too busy with his mistress to make sure things were on time. This bottling should have happened last week.”
“Chase will get things up and running,” I said.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “In the meantime, we’re going to hand-bottle as much as we can. There’s a shipment that needs to go out today, so we can’t wait.”
“Do you need me to help?” I asked.
“I definitely need you,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Need the help.”
“Get a room,” Cooper said, appearing out of nowhere. He draped an arm around my shoulders. “We have a shit-ton of work to do, so if you two could stop making goo-goo eyes at each other, that would be awesome.”
Roland scowled at him.
“Nice face,” Cooper said. “That’s a good look on you. But enough about me. This wine is not going to bottle itself. At least, not until Chase gets his ass in gear and fixes this mess. What do you think he’s doing up there?” He turned and cupped his hand over his mouth, pitching his voice to be heard across the building. “Chase! Dude, don’t fuck this up. The entire winery is counting on you, bro. But no pressure or anything.”
Chase flipped him off without looking over.
“Cooper, watch your mouth,” Shannon said.
He winced. “Oops, forgot Mom was in here.” He pointed at Chase. “Hey, he flipped me off. Aren’t you going to scold him, too?”
Shannon shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“So unfair,” Cooper said. He squeezed my shoulders, then pointed at Roland. “Remember what I said. Dick punch.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be bottling?” Roland asked.
“Probably.” Cooper started toward the still conveyor belt where a group of people were busy siphoning wine into bottles. “Hey, you guys be careful with that. That’s the blood of my children. You better not spill a drop.”
I laughed, and Roland shook his head.
“He is so creepy when he talks like that,” he said.
“That’s Cooper for you,” I said. “So, how can I help?”
“I think everything is covered except labeling and boxing.”
Roland and I went to the end of the line where the full, corked bottles were being collected. Normally the bottling machine affixed the labels before placing the wine bottles in boxes. Hand-labeling was going to be tedious as hell, especially getting them on straight. But it needed to be done.
At first the task seemed impossible. I ripped four labels trying to peel them off their backing, and Roland couldn’t get his on the bottles straight. Once we got smart and got a system going, things moved faster. He peeled the labels and I stuck them on. Brynn came over and started boxing the finished bottles.
We worked for hours. After we finished the backlog, we washed up, donned gloves, and helped fill and cork more bottles. Then more labeling and boxing. Despite the challenging situation, the mood in the bottling room was upbeat. The entire Miles family was here—even Leo came out of hiding to help. The rest of the winery staff pitched in, too. There was a sense of camaraderie in coming together to face a crisis.
“Stand clear,” Chase called from somewhere deep in the machinery.
We all stood back. I held my breath. Suddenly, the conveyor belts started moving, the bottling machine roaring to life. A cheer rose up as we all clapped and celebrated.
Roland’s eyes met mine, and he smiled. It was a smile I remembered so well. One I’d seen a thousand times. And it had never looked as beautiful as it did today.
Twenty-Four
Zoe
My feet ached after the long hours spent in the bottling room. Most of the staff had filtered out after Chase and Ben got the bottling machine operating again. Shannon was still here with Cooper and Leo, making sure things were working as they should, and finishing up the bottling run.
Shannon walked over and pulled me in for a hug. “Thanks for your help today.”
“Of course,” I said, hugging her back.
Roland walked over with Leo and Brynn. It was good to see Leo out here. He still tilted his face slightly—always trying to hide his scars—but I hadn’t seen him out and about this long in months.
Brynn pulled her hair down and started re-doing her ponytail. “I don’t know about you guys, but I want to go eat my weight in fried food and collapse into a coma.”
“I can help with the first part,” Shannon said. “How about The Lodge? I’m buying.”
“Yes,” Brynn said. “That sounds so good.”
Leo shook his head and mumbled something.
Shannon gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can send something over.”
“That’s okay,” Leo said. He stepped in and hugged his mom. “I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later.”
Shannon watched him go with concern in her eyes until Cooper tackle-hugged her from behind.
“Mother! Goddess of Salishan and giver of life. We have emerged victorious. I suggest we celebrate and indulge in the fruits of our labors.”
“Mom already said she’d buy dinner at the Lodge,” Brynn said.
Cooper stood behind Shannon, his arms still wrapped around her shoulders, and kissed her cheek. “That’s what I like to hear. I’m starving. Like I’m pretty sure if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to either fall over, or go into a hunger-induced rage and start tearing through the kitchen over in the Big House. If you want any cheese left for tastings tomorrow, you better feed me.”
Shannon patted his arm. “Okay, Cooper. Why don’t you go see if Chase wants to come.”
“Good plan.” He let go of her and whirled around. “Chase! Grub, man, let’s go!”
Ben came over, wiping his hands on a rag. “I think we’re all set for today. Need anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” Shannon said. “But why don’t you come to dinner with us?”
“I don’t want to intrude,” Ben said, looking down at the rag in his hands.
“You wouldn’t be intruding,” Shannon said. “Come on, Benjamin, I insist.”
Ben smiled, and I
noticed a slight flush to his cheeks. It was warm in here, but I had a feeling that wasn’t why Ben looked a little red. “All right, when you say it like that.”
“Good,” Shannon said with a smile. She looked at Roland. “You coming?”
Roland hesitated, his eyes flicking to me. “You know, I’ll take a rain check.”
“You sure?” Shannon asked.
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes darting to me again. “I’m ready to call it a day.”
“Zoe?” Shannon asked, turning to me.
“Oh, um…” I blinked, trying not to look at Roland. I knew what he wanted, but we hadn’t exactly made our new relationship public, even to his family. “Thank you, but not tonight.”
Shannon’s mouth twitched, like she was hiding a smile. Her eyes moved to Roland, then back to me—so quick, I almost didn’t catch her doing it. “Okay. Well, come on, kids, let’s go before Cooper turns into a hunger tornado.”
I hung back with Roland and watched them go.
“Is that Greek restaurant still around?” Roland asked.
“Sure is,” I said. “Same owners and everything.”
“Gyros?” he asked.
“Are you asking me to dinner?”
He turned toward me and laid his hand against my cheek. “Yes. I want to get dinner to go and bring it back to my place. Share a bottle of wine. Then I want to spend the rest of the night fucking you until we both collapse.”
A rush of heat hit me between the legs and my spine tingled. “That’s very straightforward.”
“I’m just being honest,” he said. “And I want you to stay. Spend the night with me.”
I took a deep breath, like I was about to jump into water and I wasn’t sure how deep it went. Staying the night with him was a boundary I’d kept in place until now. But I was ready to take the plunge. “Okay.”
We picked up dinner and brought it back to the guest cottage. Roland opened a bottle of cabernet—Salishan Cellars, of course. We stretched out on the couch, resting our tired feet while we ate. The food was good, and the wine was better. We talked and laughed, and before I knew it, the food was gone and the bottle almost empty.
Broken Miles Page 17
