Di’s eyes widened and she handed Brenna her glass of water.
Brenna waved her away. “I’m fine,” she said, to Di and Mia both. “Thanks for checking, Mia.”
“Anytime. And good luck.”
Brenna hung up the phone and met Dianne’s amazed stare. Her world had just turned slightly sideways. The hope of financial rescue was tempered by the surety there was a mistake, a catch somehow. But that funny feeling in her stomach at the thought of Jack…
“Did I hear that right?” Di asked. “Jack had something to do with this?”
“Mia says he personally guaranteed our line of credit and deposited a nice chunk of cash into our account.” The words sounded too unreal to believe, even to her, and yet she had confirmation from the bank.
From the look on Dianne’s face, Brenna knew Di was finding it hard to believe, too. “And you didn’t know? He didn’t tell you?”
“Do I look like I knew Jack was going to do this?”
Di shrugged. “So what does this mean?”
“I don’t know. I find it hard to believe Jack’s had a sudden desire to invest in a winery. Much less one that’s teetering on the edge of disaster.”
“Me, too. He was so adamant about…”
“Yeah, I know.” But he was starting to come around—at least until I kicked him off the property.
“Then this is about you.” Di’s smile turned smug.
“Me?” she squeaked as her heart did a flip-flop in her chest. “No, it must have something to do with protecting Garrett Properties’ share. Or something…” Brenna pushed herself off the couch and headed down the hall. “I’ll see you later, Di.”
“Where are you going?”
Where else? “San Francisco. To talk to Jack.”
While she had the nerve.
Golf tournaments. He’d sponsor them, but he wasn’t going to play in them. He responded to Libby Winston’s email invite with a vague claim of other plans. Garrett Properties would send a check, and that would have to do. Libby’s not-so-subtle request that he accompany her was better left ignored.
The intercom on his desk beeped. “Mr. Garrett, there’s a Brenna Walsh here to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment—”
His pulse kicked up. He didn’t wait to hear the rest. “Send her in.” Brenna, here? He stood and rounded his desk as his office door opened and Brenna walked in.
“Hi, Jack.” She looked much better than she had two weeks ago—a little more color to her cheeks, no shadows under her eyes—but her face was still pinched with stress. “Sorry to barge in.”
He hadn’t expected to be so happy to see her. Or that he wouldn’t know what to say to her. Casual small talk seemed ridiculous, considering everything. “It’s not a problem, Bren. How are things at Amante Verano?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You mean you don’t know?”
So she knew already. The bank must have moved quickly. But her voice lacked any heat behind the sarcasm, so it was hard for him to tell how she was choosing to take the news—that raised eyebrow wasn’t offering much help.
“Touché. Yes, I know how things are businesswise at Amante Verano. How are you and Dianne and Ted doing?”
A shrug. “We’re getting by. It’s a struggle, but we’re doing what we can.”
God, he was tempted to reach for her, but…
“Look, I’ll cut to the chase.” Brenna moved to the chair in front of his desk and sat. “I want to know why you are the guarantor on my line of credit.”
Business it was, then. He went back to his chair and faced her across the expanse of his desk. “Because the bank wouldn’t extend it without one. Not even for me. You’re too high a risk at the moment.”
“You can say that again,” she muttered. “And the money that’s appeared in my account?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Consider it a gift.”
Brenna’s mouth fell open. “That kind of money is not a gift. There’s no way I can accept it. Surely you know that? I don’t need your charity.”
Obviously she’d forgotten he knew the state of her finances at the moment. “Then consider it a loan. You can pay it back when you get back on your feet.”
That seemed to surprise her. “Just like that? You don’t even want me to sign an IOU?”
“I don’t think we need one. Do you?”
Brenna eyed him carefully. “Are you drunk?”
“No.”
“Did you take up drugs? Hit your head against something hard?”
He was hard-pressed not to laugh. “No and no.”
“Then you’ve gone insane.”
Bren did have that effect on him. “Possibly. Why?”
“Because sane people don’t go sticking money into their ex-wives’ accounts or guaranteeing their loans.”
“Maybe I believe Amante Verano is a good investment.”
He saw the way her spine straightened with pride before she caught herself. “You really have lost your mind. You don’t want to be in this business. You didn’t want to own part of a winery when times were good, so why would you want to invest in one now? Considering the shape we’re in…”
“I just want you to be happy, Bren, and I know getting Amante Verano back on track will make you happy.”
He could see the suspicion in her eyes. “I don’t get it. What’s in it for you, Jack?”
This was it. Time to put up or shut up. He let the question hang there for a moment, until Brenna started shifting uncomfortably in her seat, her impatience starting to fuel her temper.
“Well, Jack? Tell me what’s in it for you.”
“You.”
The word seemed to hang in the air between them, bringing their conversation—if that was what it could be called—to a screeching halt. All the breath seemed to rush out of her lungs, and she couldn’t quite make her body remember to inhale again.
“I don’t—I mean—I don’t quite understand. What do you mean me?” What happened to keeping business and personal lives separate?
Jack met her eyes levelly. “You wouldn’t be you without Amante Verano. I’m not saying I fully understand the connection—but then I don’t understand the attraction to golf either. But I do understand that it’s important to you and that it makes you happy.” He sighed. “If I have to pump money into your winery to make you happy again and make you you, I will.”
That was a lot to process all at once. “You’d do that? For me?”
Exasperated, Jack rolled his eyes. “Yes, you infuriating woman.”
The disconnect was too much. “But you don’t want a winery.”
There was that even stare again. “But I want you.”
Her heart jumped in her chest as his words brought tears to the corners of her eyes. “Really?”
“Bren…”
She stood, stalling for a moment while she tried to make sense of everything. “I thought you just felt sorry for me. Or that you were trying to protect your company’s bottom line. I couldn’t believe you’d…not after the way I treated you.”
Jack came around the desk and leaned against it. “You’ve got a temper, Bren. I know that. But you should know by now that I do, too.” He caught her arm and pulled her around to look at him. “I’m telling you that I understand how much your vineyard means to you, and I shouldn’t have discounted that.”
“But that’s the thing, Jack. I’ve had plenty of time to think over the last few weeks.” Now that she knew what she wanted to say, she couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “Yeah, it’s bad at the vineyard right now, but that’s only been a part of the general suckiness of my life. I realized I’ve used Amante Verano as an excuse for far too long. I used it as a safety net after the divorce, and it’s become a habit. But what I’ve been going through with the vineyard is nothing compared to what I’ve gone through not having you.”
It was his turn to look surprised, but the look quickly gentled into something beautiful. It gave her the courage to say the rest.
�
�I told you that night after the fire that I realized I didn’t want to be alone. But it’s more than just not being alone. I want to be with you.”
His eyes began to glow with warmth—and desire. It sent a shiver through her. “Really, Bren.”
“Yeah. And I want more than that.”
He nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Ah, back to more…”
Now was not the time to back down. “Yes. It’s going to take more than just throwing money at my business to make me happy. And you did say you wanted to make me happy.”
“I’ll bite, Bren. What more do you want?”
“You.”
The brilliant smile that crossed his face made the last few weeks of hell all worthwhile. This time, when Jack reached for her, there was no hesitation at all as she walked into his arms. As he pulled her against him she felt the warmth of his body seep into hers, thawing the chill that had gripped her since he’d left. Finally her heart seemed to be beating at a normal rhythm again. This was right. She’d been crazy to fight it.
Then he kissed her, and her heartbeat was no longer normal at all.
“I love you, Jack. I always have.”
Jack pressed his forehead to hers. “And I love you. Let’s go home.”
Home. The thought thrilled her and twinged her heart at the same time. It must have shown on her face, because Jack pulled back and his brows knitted together in concern.
“What’s wrong, Bren?”
She was not going to let anything ruin this moment. “Nothing.” She raised up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, but Jack held her at arm’s length.
“You might as well tell me now. Our brilliant lack of communication skills is what got us divorced last time. I don’t want to go there again.”
Again? Was Jack already thinking…? She paused that happy thought. He was right. “It’s hard for me to consider a hotel home. No matter how nice it is,” she qualified.
Jack nodded. “But Amante Verano isn’t home for me, you know?”
She had no illusions. “I know. I’ll just—”
“How do you feel about Bel Marin Keys?”
“Excuse me?”
He cocked his head. “Or Novato, maybe? That’s not too crowded. You don’t have to live directly on the property, do you?”
His meaning finally registered. “You’d leave San Francisco?”
Jack slid his hands up and down her arms. “We’ll compromise, Bren. Find someplace between here and there to live.”
“I can’t believe you’d leave the city?”
“If I have to, to keep you happy, yes.”
“You make me happy, Jack.” She paused. “Even if you do annoy me sometimes.”
He laughed. “You can annoy me whenever you want. I’ve felt half-dead without you around.”
“Me, too.” She tugged on his hand. “So let’s go.”
Jack resisted the tug. “One last thing. About the money I put in your account. I think we should come up with some kind of arrangement.”
Business and personal life separate. Right. “I understand. How about—?”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Remember my first offer? The one I made that night by the hot tub?”
Ugh. “It’s not my favorite memory, but, yes.”
“I want to amend that offer. You can have Amante Verano—and whatever you need to get it back on its feet—but it will cost you more than just one night. Possibly a lifetime.”
She should smack him, but instead she mirrored his cheeky grin. “Where do I sign?”
EPILOGUE
BRENNA winced as Jack’s construction crew knocked down the wall of what used to be her kitchen. “Max would not be happy about this.”
Jack put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Max would be thrilled. Trust me on that. His two favorite things—hotels and wine—in one convenient location.”
Jack was right, but it was still difficult to see her home gutted and rearranged. What used to be her home, she amended. She didn’t live here anymore, hadn’t lived here in almost two years. It was wrong to let the building continue to sit empty, but it still hurt to see that gaping hole.
He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “You do know the building can’t feel anything, right?”
She elbowed him in return, then pulled the collar of her jacket up around her neck as the March wind picked up. She looked around the patio, which looked as bad as the rest of the place. Power tools, sawhorses, bags of concrete and all the other debris of destruction and construction littered what had used to be her quiet, serene escape. At least the plants were still alive, but they looked odd, sitting around the drained hot tub and swimming pool. “It just feels weird.”
“It’s going to be very profitable, though. Dianne is already getting calls—she’s booking out rooms and we’re still six weeks from the Grand Opening.”
“I know. She’s giddy about it. I never dreamed she’d take the idea and run with it like this.” Dianne had embraced Jack’s idea to open up Amante Verano for wine seminars, using what had used to be Brenna’s house as a bed-and-breakfast for people who wanted to learn more about the process of making wine than the usual hour-long tour provided. Before she knew it, her simple little vineyard had suddenly exploded into a full-on tourist destination.
And now that word was out that Garrett Properties was opening a boutique hotel on the vineyard property, everyone from wine aficionados to brides looking for a unique wedding venue was knocking down her doors.
Metaphorically, at least. The house currently didn’t have any doors—unless she counted the ones leaning against the side of the building, waiting to be installed.
Brenna had taken to hiding in her lab or her office most of the time she was on the property these days, but she’d made the mistake of surfacing just in time to see this blow dealt to the house. The place looked like…“Will it actually be finished in six weeks?”
“It’ll be finished in five.” Jack winked at her. “By the way, that wine magazine you like so much is sending someone out to cover the Grand Opening reception.”
“Interesting. Two years ago they wouldn’t give me the time of day. They weren’t interested in Brenna Walsh. Brenna Garrett is a different story, it seems.”
“See? there are all kinds of perks to being a Garrett.”
“Many,” she agreed, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Stepping back, she shaded her eyes from the sun and looked up at him. “What are you doing here today anyway? I thought you were going to Sacramento for a meeting.”
Jack shrugged. “I didn’t feel like it. I sent Martin instead.”
“Tsk, tsk,” she scolded. “Blowing off work like that…”
He was unrepentant. “It’s just another one of the perks of being a Garrett. Anyway, I needed to come check on the progress here.” He looked around and shrugged. “Seems to be moving along fine. I guess I’m done for the day.”
Jack slid his fingers through hers and pulled her close again. “What say we go home early?”
She mentally ran down her to-do list. “Are you insane? Some of us don’t have half a dozen minions on hand to run our businesses for us.”
“Then hire some.”
“You run your business and I’ll run mine. You’re a silent partner, remember?”
“Silent, but not mute.”
“Mute would be delightful,” Brenna grumbled.
“Ah, but then I couldn’t tell you what I have planned for this afternoon…” Pulling her close, he whispered ideas that had her toes curling and her heart pounding in anticipation.
“You are evil, Jack Garrett. It was your idea to start all this expansion and construction, and now you want me to play hooky?”
“I just want you, period.” He shrugged. “Seriously, Bren, this place is getting too big for you to do everything. Even Dianne has a fleet of assistants now. You can’t keep doing everything on your own. You’re wearing yourself out. You’re so tired lately.”
Jack eyebrows flew up in surprise. “It’s about damn time. I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
She needed to sit for this conversation, but all her patio furniture was either stacked in the yard or being used to hold construction paraphernalia. She walked to the edge of the hot tub and sat, dangling her feet into the emptiness. “Yeah, well, I’m going to need the help soon enough. This year’s crush is going to be a bit difficult for me.”
Jack joined her, studying her face curiously. “Because…?” he prompted.
“Did Max ever give you the lecture on the three things he wanted most?”
Jack shook his head and looked at her questioningly.
“Number one was a five-star hotel in Manhattan.”
He smiled smugly. “Done.”
“Number two was a gold-medal wine.”
“Done—thanks to you.” He reached for her hand again and squeezed her fingers.
She nodded at the compliment, then took a deep breath. “Number three was a grandchild.”
A small smile began to form on his face. “And…?”
“Well, he’s going to get one of those, too.”
Jack pulled her close, one hand against her back, the other splayed over her still-flat stomach. The small smile had grown into an all-out grin, and it told her how happy he was with her news. “See? I told you Max didn’t like to be thwarted.”
Huh? “When did you tell me that?”
“Right after Max died. We were out here, remember? In the hot tub.”
It took a second, but the memory came. She snorted. “How could I forget that night? Among other things we won’t mention—” she narrowed her eyes at him “—you called me a wine snob.”
Jack laughed. “And you called me a jerk.”
“I wasn’t wrong,” she countered.
“Neither was I—about that part, at least.”
She feigned shock. “You’re admitting you were wrong about something? That’s a first.”
Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks! Page 14
