Nic nodded.
As Joe drove away, Maggie stepped out of the office and walked toward Nic. “Who was that handsome stranger?”
“What happened to being happily married?”
“Oh, I am. But I can still look.” She stopped in front of him. “Are you going to tell me who he is?”
“No. Do you have the final numbers on the financing for buying Marcelli?”
She nodded slowly. “Everything’s ready. Lorenzo Marcelli simply has to sign on the dotted line. But I thought you weren’t sure he would be willing to sell.”
“That just changed.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish you wouldn’t do this. It’s wrong.”
“I’m not asking for your opinion, I’m asking you to do your job.”
“Sure, Boss.”
She sounded fine, but he saw the flash of hurt in her green eyes.
“I’ll leave the information on your desk,” she said.
“Thanks.”
She started back for the door, then paused. “You used to be one of the good guys, Nic. Why did that have to change?”
Before he could come up with an answer, she went inside.
He stalked toward the house. One of the good guys. What did that mean? She was-
He stopped in the center of the path and turned to look at the building Brenna was using. Just a few nights ago she’d forced them both to relive the past. For the first time in years he’d found himself locked back in the hurt and the anger. At one time he’d thought it would destroy him. It hadn’t and he’d moved on. Everything was different now.
Or was it? They’d made love. Somehow, despite the harsh words and aching feelings, they’d come together in a way that had both exhilarated and terrified him. As much as he’d tried to ignore it, he’d known that night that something was different.
No, he told himself. Nothing was different. The past was long gone and the future had nothing to do with it. What could have been didn’t matter. He and Brenna were old news. He had a plan and he was going to stick with it no matter what.
16
Brenna sipped her double mocha latte as she exited the Starbucks and crossed to the tables and chairs set up along the wide sidewalk. She chose a seat in the shade.
The midafternoon was quiet, with few people around. Warm temperatures and a light breeze made her feel sleepy, so the coffee would provide a much-needed jolt.
September had come to an end. Harvest was finished, and all across the valley, wine makers were taking a moment to draw a breath. There were the usual tasks to tidy up at the end of the season, barrel orders to be placed for the following year, discussions about more plantings, what vines to rip up, and how everyone expected the wines to be when the first barrels were opened and tasted.
Every so often Brenna wished she’d picked another line of work, but not today. Today her world was exactly right. All of her wine was in place, and the future of Four Sisters Winery was in the hands of yeast microbes and fate. And at Marcelli, well, life was good. Even her grandfather couldn’t destroy her good mood. No matter how much he disagreed with her, argued his points, and ignored her advice, the truth was he had no one interested in the winery but her. Not her sisters and not Joe.
“Someone should nominate him for sainthood,” she murmured to herself as she set her coffee on a small round table and took a seat. He’d turned down the chance to be a part of the family business, leaving her free to take over.
Assuming her grandfather didn’t up and sell.
“Don’t go there,” she told herself. “Not today.” Not when the sun was shining and the air was warm and everything was as it should be.
She’d weathered the latest storm and she’d survived. She would get through the next one and the next one. Some she would endure with grace and style, and some she would simply endure. But that was okay. She’d moved on.
Look at how far she’d come. A year ago she’d been working two jobs she hated, while going through the motions of having a marriage with a man she’d never truly been in love with. How sad was that? Now she was happy, living her dream, and starting her own business. She had-
Brenna sat up straight, then tried to calculate the date. It was the beginning of October.
“Well, hell,” she said as she picked up her coffee and took a sip. Her divorce had become final and she hadn’t even noticed.
Now that she thought about it, she remembered receiving a thick, legal-size envelope sometime in the past couple of weeks. But between harvest and arguing with her grandfather and Nic and Joe and everything else going on, she’d tossed it onto a shelf in her bedroom and had never given it another thought. No doubt the final papers were inside. She was a free woman. Even better, Jeff would be sending her a fat check every month for three years to pay her back for putting him through medical school and supporting him during his internship and residency.
While she wasn’t going to be wealthy by anyone’s standards, she was about to have a cash flow that set her heart to fluttering. So the five-thousand-dollar-a-month question was what did she do with it? Use it to make payments on her loan? Save it? Get a new car?
She eyed her battered Camry parked on the street and figured she probably needed to pay for a tune-up and some tires, but other than that, it should last her a few more years.
A sound caught her attention. A familiar sound that got louder. The way her heart had fluttered at the thought of money was nothing when compared with the kickboxing style workout it was getting now. Brenna rose and shaded her eyes as she looked down the street. Sure enough, a good-looking guy on a motorcycle was headed in this direction.
What was it about a man in a leather jacket? She was too young to remember James Dean, yet that’s instantly who she thought of as Nic pulled up in front of her car. He cut the engine and turned toward her.
Neither of them spoke. They hadn’t seen each other since “the night,” so this moment was supposed to be awkward. She probably should have wanted to bolt. Instead she found herself smiling.
A helmet covered his hair and dark glasses shaded his eyes. She didn’t know what he was thinking, which was probably for the best. She didn’t know what she was thinking, either. The situation with Nic was more complicated than ever, thanks to what had happened a week before. Intellectually she knew that making love with him had been foolish. Emotionally she’d never felt happier about anything. No doubt the differing sides of her brain were at war, meaning she should probably schedule some quality time with her sister, the psychologist. Or at the very least visit her doctor and find out if the pharmaceutical community had a pill or two to help her out. Instead she sipped her coffee.
Nic pulled off his glasses. “You look like a woman with a lot on her mind.”
“I am.”
“I know how to help.”
He reached behind for the spare helmet fastened to the seat. After pulling it free, he held it out to her.
Brenna didn’t hesitate. If she was going to celebrate the joy that was her life, she knew no better place than on the back of a motorcycle. She tossed her coffee in the trash and crossed the sidewalk. After securing the helmet, she climbed on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“Go fast,” she told him with a laugh.
He grinned and nodded.
While he drove out of town at the speed limit, as soon as they hit the freeway, he accelerated the bike until Brenna felt as if they were flying. Cool air blew in her face. The heat of Nic’s body kept her warm, while her thighs hugging his reminded her of other rides on other sunny days.
They drove north out of Santa Barbara, past the small towns that lined the freeway until they reached a deserted stretch of beach. Nic took the next exit. He pulled up beside the sand and cut the engine.
Brenna climbed off first. She set her helmet back on the seat and smoothed her hair. Nic took off his headgear and shrugged out of his jacket. By silent agreement they turned toward the water.