by Andrea Thome
India glanced at the clock, realizing she’d better throw her hair in a braid and wrap things up if she were going to get to the workshop on time.
“For once in my life, I’m just going with the flow. Is that crazy?” she asked her friend.
Julia was standing still now, riveted by the look on her friend’s face. She grinned at India and shook her head in disbelief.
“I don’t think it’s crazy at all, but I can’t believe I’m hearing you say these things. You of all people. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great, and I vote for lots more toe curling this week. And job, schmob. Wasn’t it Scarlett O’Hara who said, ‘After all, tomorrow is another day’? Come to think of it, she lost both guys, so maybe that’s not a great example.” They laughed together.
India could hear Pearl just then, calling for her mama, so she blew them both a kiss and said good-bye, promising to call Julia in the next day or so. She grabbed her camera bag and ran out the door to head to class with just five minutes to spare.
When India walked into the barn, Wyatt was standing up at the front preparing for his presentation, but he wasn’t alone.
Virginia, the man-eating daughter from Atlanta, was leaning suggestively against the counter in front of him, her fitted blouse providing an ample representation of what she could offer him. Wyatt was trying to answer her question in earnest, but he was obviously working hard to keep his eyes north of the spectacle before him. There was enough cleavage on display that India almost wanted to drop a quarter between her breasts to see if a song would play.
India found a chair and was hanging her purse on the arm of it when she saw Violet approaching her. Game face, she told herself. She knew Wyatt wouldn’t have had the time to talk with his friends yet today, and she sure wasn’t going to be the first to provide any details. She smiled warmly at Violet and decided to go on the offensive.
“Hey, Violet. I’m excited for class today. Wyatt’s doing his presentation on landscape, right?”
Perfect, she thought, keep it all business. Don’t show your hand.
“He is, and I’m sure he’s ready to get started as soon as Betty Boop takes her seat.”
They laughed, watching as Virginia left to find her mother, realizing her efforts to captivate Wyatt were probably in vain. Violet turned her attention back to India.
“Rex and I are attending a private event tonight down in the wine cellar. A celebrity chef is preparing the meal, then speaking about her inspiration afterward. We’d love it if you and Wyatt could join us? Finn will be there too, and Susan Eden. It’s a cool experience to have dinner downstairs, so please say yes.”
She waited expectantly for India to answer her, but before she could, India heard Wyatt answer over her shoulder.
“We’d love to.” He looked at India. “That is, if it’s OK with you?” He relaxed when she nodded in agreement, smiling as she looked up at him. “How thoughtful of you to invite us, Vi.” Wyatt was now eying Violet suspiciously, who just smiled sweetly back at him.
He knew what she was up to, but he wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend more time with India, even if it meant being subjected to Violet’s firing squad.
“Great. There’s a cocktail reception first, out on the patio. Meet us there at seven? As long as that gives you two enough time for . . . whatever your afternoon plans are?”
She looked innocently between them, ignoring Wyatt’s glare.
“Sounds perfect,” said India as Violet pivoted toward the front of the room, heading to the podium to begin the workshop.
Wyatt turned to her, his voice low. “I don’t know how I’m going to stand up there and teach when all I want to do is find a dark corner and devour you again.”
His eyes were opaque, and he gave her a wolfish grin, brushing his hand against hers as he turned to meet Violet at the front of the class. She’d had the very same thought that morning. The touch was fleeting, but she felt the voltage travel through her entire body.
Rex had seen the exchange, and he gave a low whistle when Violet rejoined him at the back of the room after her remarks.
“You weren’t kidding about those two. I thought we had heat back in the day, but if they’re coming to dinner, you might want to make sure there’s a fire extinguisher handy.” He chuckled.
Violet grinned. “No way. This fire is just getting started, and I have a feeling it might be built to last.”
Finn was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. He didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into. All these thoughts of love and romance had him out of whack, and now he found himself standing on her porch, clutching a fistful of bluebells, afraid to ring the damned bell.
He was a seventy-two-year-old man, for Pete’s sake. He had no business asking this woman out on a date. She was way out of his league.
Of course they’d been good friends for as long as he could remember, but that didn’t mean she’d be interested in going to dinner with an old farmer on her arm tonight. He was just about to turn and walk away when the door opened behind him.
“Are you going to stand there all day talking to yourself, or are you going to come in and ask me to dinner?”
Finn slowly turned around, his eyes meeting hers in surprise. She held two iced teas, offering one to him as she stepped aside so he could enter.
Susan Eden was a remarkable woman. They’d known each other since they were both newly married. She’d shown him great kindness when he’d lost Margaret and their infant daughter. He’d never forgotten that. He’d watched her raise Claire, and he was there in turn as her friend while she grieved. They’d been in the fabric of each other’s lives for decades now.
Susan came down to the garden all the time, asking him advice on her own private beds. Her house was on the property too, near the horse barn, where she could watch her beloved animals in the pastures below. She’d lived a quiet life alone there since her divorce but had remained lightly involved in the day-to-day operations of the farm.
Finn would be a fool not to take his own damned advice. It was time to notice what had been right in front of him all along.
He smiled nervously, and forty years after they’d first met, he finally asked Susan out on a date.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
India took extra care getting ready that night. She’d braided the front two pieces of her hair and pinned them back, leaving the rest of it down in loose waves. Her dress was a midnight-blue vintage Halston with a low-cut back that glided over body like liquid, making her feel particularly sexy. She wondered if it were really because of the dress or if it were because of how she knew Wyatt would react when he saw her in it. The thought made her stomach flutter.
India was glad to be having dinner with Wyatt’s friends, but the thought of spending quality time with his mother-in-law definitely put her on edge. She hoped it wouldn’t be awkward for Susan to see Wyatt with someone other than Claire. Wyatt had told her that Susan wanted him to be happy, but wanting it and seeing it right in front of you were two different things. India resolved to make sure she spent enough time chatting with Susan to put her at ease.
What was she even thinking? Put Susan at ease? How was meeting a woman who was only a guest for the week going to be a consolation for anyone who loved Wyatt? She was surprised when she thought about how welcoming Violet had been to her so far, and she wondered why Wyatt’s friend wasn’t being more protective of him.
Her mind was running wild now, and India could feel her nerves starting to fray, so she went in search of the bourbon, glad to be in possession of the entire bottle. She’d just taken a sip, feeling the amber liquid warming her insides, when she heard his footsteps on the gravel walk.
She turned in time to see him at the door, a new bunch of wildflowers in his hand.
Any previous thoughts she’d had about slowing things down went right out the window. She’d never seen a man cut such a dashing figure in a suit. His was dark blue and beautifully tailored, with a crisp light-blue shirt und
erneath. Instead of wearing a tie, he’d left the top button undone, framing his lightly whiskered face to perfection. The sun was lighting him from behind, making him look ethereal.
So, apparently, getting weak in the knees was really a thing.
How had this remarkable person remained alone for so long? She couldn’t believe her good fortune in finding someone so authentic. His vulnerability was a huge turn-on, but it also terrified her. She didn’t want him to ever feel hurt again, of that she was sure. He was a good man, a kind man, and she already felt conflicted at the thought of leaving him at the end of the week. Of what that might do to him. Of what it would do to her.
Leaving him was the furthest thing from her mind in that moment, though, as she moved toward the door.
Wyatt watched her move and found himself once again at a loss for words. She stirred up something unfamiliar, something he couldn’t put his finger on. It was more than a physical attraction. He wanted her to feel like the stunning, capable, complicated, confident woman she was. There was satisfaction in seeing her realize all of those things about herself.
It clicked. With Claire, he’d been a caretaker; with India, he’d met an equal.
He offered her the bluebells.
“They’re so lovely, but, Wyatt, you don’t have to bring me flowers every night,” India said, holding the door so he could come inside.
He looked her up and down appreciatively, shaking his head.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. But the way you look, it seems a little unfair to the flowers. They definitely don’t measure up.”
He was frozen there, just inside the doorway.
“That’s some dress.”
He made a conscious effort not to move any closer to her so he wouldn’t be tempted to cancel dinner altogether.
“Thanks. Violet mentioned this was a special dinner, so I’m glad I threw this dress on at the last minute.”
“Me too,” he told her, smiling.
She could drink milk out of that dimple.
She took another sip of the bourbon to steady herself, then handed him the glass.
“You look pretty great yourself.”
But great didn’t begin to describe it. He was eye candy.
India carried the flowers to the sink and placed them in a tall glass with water, then set the arrangement next to her bed.
She was well aware of what he would see when she turned her back to him, but she couldn’t know how great the effect actually was. Her hair filled in almost all of the void left by the dress, but there was a small exposed place on her back that made Wyatt reconsider his gallantry. He took a long drag of her drink.
India grabbed her clutch off the dresser and headed toward the door he held open for her. She felt his fingers brush almost imperceptibly at the small of her back as she passed through. The quickening was instantaneous, and she whirled around to meet him eye to eye on the threshold.
His eyebrow was cocked in mock innocence as he took a leisurely sip of her drink. She stared at him.
“Do that again, and we are going to be more than a little late,” she warned him.
Her voice had been barely above a whisper, their faces only inches apart.
She studied him for a moment, then she leaned in to kiss him, but instead took his bottom lip between her teeth and bit gently before letting go. His face registered shock. His body told the rest of the story.
“Two can play that game, Wyatt. Now let’s go to dinner.”
India gave him a pointed look over her shoulder and headed down the walk. Setting the drink down, he followed her outside and shut the door behind him. He didn’t take his eyes off her for a second.
Dinner in the barn was a special experience enjoyed by most guests who visited Blackberry Farm, but a meal in the wine cellar was both exceptional and exclusive. The table was set for twenty-four, resplendent with tall crystal vases brimming with forsythia, and enough candles of different shapes and sizes to give the room a dreamy glow. Each place setting held four stemmed wine glasses, prepared to receive the perfect pairing for each course.
Wyatt and India were one of the last couples to arrive, so they plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and stepped outside onto the patio where guests had gathered for cocktails. It was a perfect evening, warm with little humidity, the moon just starting to peek up over the foothills.
Violet and Rex were standing off to one side, waiting for them to arrive. The women greeted each other with a hug while Wyatt and Rex exchanged a warm handshake. They chatted together for a few minutes about that day’s class before steering the conversation to the special dinner. Violet was excited to share such a rare experience with them.
“The guest chef has an amazing reputation for using clean ingredients, so I’m excited to see what she’ll come up with tonight. It should be incredible, considering the variety of foods she has to work with here. I read somewhere that she’s eliminated the use of pasta altogether and only uses spiralized vegetables now. At least that part of the meal will be good for the waistline, even if the half-dozen glasses of wine won’t. I guess tonight we’ll play for the tie.”
Violet offered her flute up in a toast before nudging Rex with her hip.
“Rumor has it she’s gorgeous too: a Chinese father and an Italian mother. I’ve warned Rex to be on his best behavior or he’ll be sleeping out in the hammock tonight.”
The foursome chuckled together, sampling the mint-pesto mini bruschetta being passed by the servers. India was admiring the view over the valley, the fields dotted with East Friesian sheep that seemed to glow in the dusky light, when she heard Wyatt’s surprised voice.
“I don’t believe it. You old fox.”
India spun around in time to see him staring openmouthed at something across the patio. She followed his gaze and saw Susan Eden being escorted into the party by Finn, a scene that was causing quiet murmurs throughout the crowd. Finn was looking around nervously, nodding to familiar faces, but Susan looked completely at ease—ecstatic, really. She was even lovelier than India had remembered, perhaps in part because of her evident happiness. These were two people on a date; there was no mistaking that.
India watched Wyatt as he took it all in. His face was a blend of surprise and amazement, causing her to wonder if this was a new relationship, or at least new to him. She supposed it must be, or Wyatt surely would have mentioned it to her. Violet and Rex appeared to be thrilled by the turn of events, Violet rushing over to greet the couple with hugs, and Rex slapping the farmer on the back kindly.
“I take it you didn’t see this coming,” India said.
Wyatt finished the last sip of his champagne, then set his empty glass on a passing tray and swiped a new glass for each of them in the process.
“I can’t say I did,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Finn is upping the ante on me.” Wyatt went to work on his second drink.
India watched him. He seemed unsettled for the first time since she’d known him. She didn’t think it was the coupling of his loved ones that had him rattled; it seemed like something else.
“Upping the ante how?” she asked.
Wyatt looked at India with a curious expression on his face. She could tell he was carefully weighing his thoughts before he verbalized them.
“It’s OK, never mind,” she said, touching his arm, freeing him from feeling the need to explain. He shook his head, wanting to finish.
“When Finn and I talked the other day, he told me that I needed to be open to possibilities when they come my way. He worries that if I don’t open up, there’s no telling what might pass me by. He’s afraid I’ll end up alone like him.”
He watched the older couple interact with each other, both of them clearly smitten. He still couldn’t get over it.
“Although I guess he isn’t alone now, is he? I suppose Finn decided to follow his own advice, thinking it might force my hand to do the same with you.”
Wyatt looked back at her, wai
ting for his words to sink in, trying to gauge her response.
India felt the blush creeping up from her neck. So they’d discussed her. That alone didn’t surprise her much, but learning about the depth of the conversation was unnerving. They’d obviously talked about the same things she’d been wondering herself. What was this? Whatever it was between them had grown legs and was suddenly feeling a lot less like a fling and more like a choice that would have to be made. She drained the rest of her champagne, grateful he’d thought to grab them each a second glass. Between that and the bourbon, she could feel her nerves starting to relax. She took a deep breath.
“Personally, I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of taking advantage of opportunities so far.”
It was hard not to laugh at the shock on his face, so she did, and after a moment, he joined her. They finished their champagne, setting the empty glasses on a nearby table.
“Touché. If Finn only knew how much ground he has to cover to catch up . . . that would set the old man’s bow tie spinning for sure.”
Wyatt offered India his arm. It was beginning to get dark, so most of the guests, including their friends, had moved inside to find their seats for dinner.
Just before they reached the French doors leading inside, Wyatt stopped them short, pulling India into the shadows and tightly up against him. One hand rested on the small of her back, the other slipped under her hair, tilting her neck toward his face. He grazed her with his teeth, trading bites for kisses until she’d almost forgotten why they’d come tonight. As suddenly as he’d started, he released her, his fingers trailing down her backside and off the silken curve of her bottom. He clasped her hand and led her back toward the door.
“I want you to know that the message was received,” Wyatt said.
They locked eyes. Wyatt squeezed her hand.
“I won’t be missing a single opportunity from here on out.”
They walked inside, hand in hand, to join the rest of the group for dinner.
