The Sassy One
Page 25

“Have you been involved with anyone since Todd?” he asked.
“After a couple of years I dated some. But I was busy with college, and my heart wasn’t in it. Honestly, it was never worth the trouble before.”
He paused in front of a low fence surrounding a vegetable garden. “Why now? Why with me?”
She shook her head. “You’re fishing for compliments, and I’m not going to bite.”
He grinned. “Sure you are. You like to bite.”
He drew her close and wrapped his arms around her. Just before he kissed her, he thought she stiffened. He straightened.
“Is this too public?” he asked. While they couldn’t see any of the party-goers, they could hear them.
Francesca shrugged. “I’m just a little on edge.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “Then I can control myself until we’re alone. Fair enough?”
Francesca nodded and did her best to smile. After pointing at the neat rows of vegetables in the garden, she started talking about how Grandma Tessa and Grammy M went on a planting frenzy every spring because the mundane topic kept her from blurting out what was really on her mind.
She was pregnant with Sam’s baby. In the past two days she’d probably reminded herself of that truth a thousand times, but she still couldn’t believe it.
Life was nothing if not unfair, she thought as they headed back for the house. Condoms were supposed to be effective ninety-six percent of the time. She and Sam had made love four times that first night. What were the odds of her getting pregnant in just four times?
Sam took her hand in his and squeezed her fingers. The gentleness in his expression made her want to cry. Or throw herself on the ground and confess all.
She was going to tell him. She had to—it was the right thing to do. But not today. Not with her family around. And probably not tomorrow, because he still hadn’t adjusted to having a daughter who was twelve. What would he say about a newborn?
A baby. She sucked in a breath. This was going to change everything in her life and his. What about her studies, her goals? Could she do all that and be a single mother? There were months she had trouble balancing her checkbook.
As for Sam—she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t going to be happy. She mentally cringed as she remembered his shock at Kelly’s arrival. At least his daughter was able to dress and feed herself. She was only six years from being an adult.
Sam was like her—he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in long-term commitments or happily ever after. He’d already had to adjust his thinking to accommodate Kelly. What would happen when he found out there was about to be another child in his life?
Brenna drove one of the small trucks to the north end of the property and stopped by the fence line. Once she’d stilled the engine, she climbed out and checked on the Chardonnay grapes.
She glanced from the tight clusters to the sky. This was the part of the season her grandfather claimed made believers of them all. They prayed for the right temperatures, for the right balance of sun, cloud, and fog. For rain to fall on certain weeks, but not on others.
Brenna straightened and brushed off the skirt of her dress. She shouldn’t have left the party, but for reasons she didn’t understand, the crowd had started to get to her. She’d felt out of place and awkward.
She started walking the fence line. Dammit, she thought. She refused to be missing Jeff. The ass had dumped her for a younger woman, leaving her lost, confused, and a twenty-seven year-old cliché. She didn’t want him back. She didn’t want anything to do with him. But this was the first time she’d had to go out in a large gathering and be a single woman again. She’d been married in a double ceremony with Francesca when they’d both been eighteen. In the past nine years she’d forgotten what it felt like to be alone.
A flash of movement caught her attention. Brenna froze in place, knowing what she would see before she turned. She only had a heartbeat to be grateful she looked better than the last time she’d seen him a couple of months ago.
She remembered everything about their encounter, from how she’d found him too sexy for words and how they’d instantly jumped from social niceties to sniping at each other. This afternoon she was determined to take the moral high ground and be only pleasant.
“Hello, Nic,” she said as she turned toward the fence.
Nicholas Giovanni, sole heir to the Giovanni lands and Wild Sea Vineyards, strolled toward her. He moved with a laconic grace that made her remember being sixteen and wildly in love with the neighborhood bad boy.
Time must be a woman, because it had graced him with a few wrinkles by his eyes that only added to his dark good looks and sexual appeal.
“Brenna.” He paused by the fence. “I can hear the party from here.”
She turned in the direction of the Marcelli hacienda, but she couldn’t see anything but grapevines. The faint sound of music and laughter did indeed carry on the light breeze.
“My invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.”
“My grandfather’s too old to change his ways,” she said. “He’ll never forgive you for being a Giovanni.”
“I don’t need forgiving.”
Men like him never did, she thought. They sinned with impunity.
She looked at his jeans and T-shirt, the latter with cutoff sleeves. “I take it you’re not celebrating at home.”
“I’ll be heading out later.”
He stared at her. His dark eyes seemed to see past her fragile defenses to the insecurity beneath. Self-consciously she put her hand up to her short hair.
“I like it,” he said, his gaze following her actions. “You look good.”
Simple words. Meaningless words. She swore silently as pleasure blossomed inside of her and heat flared, as it always had when Nic was around.
“You, too,” she said before she could stop herself. Mortification followed instantly. She cleared her throat and changed the subject.
“Looks to be a good harvest.”
He nodded. “You heard about the Schulers going out of business? I’ve put in an offer.”
Which was just like him. “Dammit, Nic, don’t tell me you’re buying them, too. Do you have to own every damn acre in the valley?”
He grinned. “That’s the Brenna I know. I got worried when you were so polite. I thought maybe the family had put you on medication.”
She glared at him. “Very funny. You’re on the verge of overproducing.”
She thought of the map in her grandfather’s office, the one that showed the Marcelli’s lands, along with those belonging to Wild Sea Vineyards. Over the past twenty years their rivals to the north had nearly doubled in size. “There’s no way you can keep control of that much acreage. Or is that the point? Will you be hiring people to manage it for you so you don’t have to get your hands dirty anymore?”
“We’ll be the biggest, and the best.”
“Not possible. Besides, you’ve already decided volume is more important than quality. I’m disappointed, but not surprised.”
He leaned against a fence post. “I heard Lorenzo has put you back in charge.”
“For now,” she told him, thinking of her grandfather’s threat to sell. “I’m going to try a new Cuvée with the whites. It’s going to be a winner. You won’t want to go up against me in competition.”
“We don’t make a Cuvée. But it’s not a bad idea.”
“Sure. If you can’t be original, then copy.”
He grinned. “I’ll make it cheaper and sell about ten times as much.”
He would, too, damn him.
“I’ll still be the best,” she told him.
“You’ll be broke.”
Or out on the streets if her grandfather sold. But she didn’t want to think about that.
A loud burst of music made her turn toward the direction of the hacienda. “I’d better head back,” she said.
He nodded. “Good to see you again.”
“Oh, right. Because you really enjoy arguing with me.”
He surprised her by grinning. “Actually, I do. See you, Brenna.”
His statement stunned her into silence.
When he’d disappeared into the vineyard, she headed back to her truck. As she slid onto the worn seat, she remembered when it had all been different. Years ago Nic had been her universe. She had thought she couldn’t possibly live without him, but she’d been wrong. In a world where Marcellis and Giovannis were sworn enemies, Nic had asked her to chose. She had… but she hadn’t chosen him.
Francesca set a pile of flatware on the table and began to sort through the pieces. The afternoon had warmed up enough to make her grateful for the shade of the nearby trees. The party-goers clustered in large groups all around the property, while music from the band her parents had hired added to the festive mood.
Every few minutes she found herself glancing around and trying to find Sam. When she caught a glimpse of him, guilt, fear, and terror made her stomach clench and her throat close up. Neither were pleasant.
“Did you see?” Kelly asked as she raced up to the table. The preteen practically vibrated with excitement. Her face was flushed and her eyes widened.
“Look!”
Kelly pointed and Francesca turned in that direction. She frowned, unable to see what was so interesting. Two people sat together in shade. They were talking, their heads bent close together.
“It’s my great-grandpa and your Grammy M,” Kelly breathed. “I saw them laughing a little bit ago. I can’t decide if it’s really great or totally gross.”
Francesca grinned. She knew what her vote would be. “It’s fun,” she said.
Kelly wrinkled her nose. “They’re so old.”
“That fact should give you hope for the future. With a little luck you’ll still have a love life at that age.”
Kelly groaned. “That is totally gross.”
“You won’t think so then.”
“What are you two up to?”
Francesca turned and saw Sam walking up.
Kelly grinned. “Gabriel has a girlfriend.”
Sam saw what was going on with Gabriel and Grammy M.
“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
“Francesca thinks it’s cute,” Kelly told him. “I’m not so sure.”
“Love happens at every age,” Francesca said.
Kelly’s expression hardened. “I hate it when people fall in love. They act stupid and forget what’s important. They forget about a lot of things.”
She turned and ran toward the house. Sam stared after her.
“My ex-wife has a lot to answer for,” he said coldly. “For what she did to both of us. She put Kelly through hell and kept me from being there to make my daughter’s life bearable. I can forgive her for a lot of things, but I’ll never forgive her for the lies.”
12
T he last of the plates were cleared away just as the sun slipped below the horizon. In the distance the fireworks were set up on a patch of graded land that had yet to be cultivated.
Francesca and Brenna strolled in the twilight, heading away from the tables and toward the house.
“I’m going to explode,” Francesca said, touching her stomach. The troubles in her life had done nothing to reduce her appetite. “Why do I always eat too much?”
“Because the Grands are the best cooks in the world,” Brenna said. “I’ve got to get out of here and get my own place. If I stay much longer, I’ll weigh four hundred pounds by the end of summer.”
Francesca laughed. “You look great. Quit complaining.”
“I look okay,” her sister said. “You look amazing. There’s this strange glow about you.” Brenna’s gaze narrowed. “It’s Sam, isn’t it?”