Ashley moved in that direction, and when Derek appeared beside her, she couldn’t help but breathe in the woodsy scent of his cologne. At least France hadn’t changed the way he smelled.
Josephine Radcliffe swept toward them, her shock of white curls framing a round, smiling face. “Derek Campbell, is that you? You look a whole foot taller than the last time I saw you.” On the wall behind her, starfish and netting hung on the edges of the chalkboard menu.
Derek chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been done growing for about ten years now, Ms. Josephine.”
The café owner tapped the end of her nose. “I know what I’m talking about, so you just best believe me. What’ll it be tonight?”
Once they’d put in their order, Ashley perused the pastry case while Derek hit the restroom. Behind her, the café door opened and blew in a breeze.
“Ashley? Hey!”
Ashley turned to find two of her favorite people in the world. “Hey, Mad. Hey, Evan.”
Madison Price stepped forward and gave Ashley a hug, then pressed back into her boyfriend’s side. “Working late again? You want to join us for dinner?”
“No, I’ve got plans, actually.”
Madison lifted an eyebrow behind the purple, large-framed glasses she sometimes wore. “With who?”
“Just a client.” Her friend was so busy with the newly reopened library these days, Ashley hadn’t had a chance to update her on Derek’s arrival. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” With Madison’s new job and Evan working as Walker Beach’s head community developer, overseeing the Christmas festival committee, and studying to become a physical education teacher, the two didn’t get to see each other as much as they’d like.
“You sure?” Madison’s nose scrunched.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Derek stepped back into the room.
Ashley peeled her eyes off of him and looked back at her friend. “And like I said, I have plans.”
Madison and Evan swiveled their heads at Derek’s approach, and Evan’s face broke into a smile. “Derek! How are you, man?”
Meanwhile, Madison fixed Ashley with a look—one that asked all sorts of questions Ashley couldn’t answer. “A client, huh?” Her whisper hissed between them.
“Shhh. I’ll explain later.”
Derek reached forward and shook Evan’s hand. Both guys were handsome and fit, though Derek was a bit taller with broader shoulders, while Evan had a leaner build indicative of the baseball player he’d once been. “I’m good, dude. And you?”
“Busy as ever, but things are good.” Evan squeezed Madison’s waist. “Better than good. This is Madison, by the way.”
“I feel like we’ve met. Weren’t you friends with Ashley in high school?”
“Yeah, she was just about my only friend. I wasn’t exactly Ms. Popular like her.” Madison’s eyes danced with mirth.
“Oh, whatever.” Ashley shook her head. “You were just shy.”
“Something like that.” Madison poked Evan in the ribs, a look passing between them before they laughed.
Ms. Josephine called their number and Ashley stepped forward to accept the paper bag with a thank you. Rejoining the group as they chatted, she caught a mention of the beach festival taking place at the end of the year.
Evan nodded to Ashley. “I’ll see you at the meeting on Saturday, right?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”
A moment of silence hung among them, and Ashley held up the bag of food. “Our order’s ready.”
Derek shook himself. “Oh, great.” He turned back to Evan and Madison. “Nice to see you both again.”
“Likewise, man,” Evan said. “We should hang out sometime. I know Ben’s looking for help remodeling some rooms in the inn so they’re ready for the summer season.”
“I’d love to help if it fits in my schedule. Just text me.” He nodded to Ashley. “Ready?”
Her blood flashed hot at the word—and the way he said it low, as if only meant for her ears. “Yep.”
They said their goodbyes and headed out the door and toward the beach. Not too far away, a couple sat in front of a bonfire, which provided enough light for Ashley and Derek to choose a spot on the pristine sand to settle into. Tonight, the moon and stars were partially obscured by clouds, and a breeze blew up from the ocean.
Ashley shivered. She should have brought a sweater.
“Here.” Derek shrugged out of his blue long-sleeved shirt, which he’d rolled to the elbows. Underneath, he wore a plain white T-shirt.
“Oh, no. I’m fine.”
He held it out to her. “Don’t be stubborn. You’re cold.”
She frowned, but took the soft shirt from him, and as she did, their fingertips brushed. Shivering some more, she pushed her arms through the holes and settled the shirt over her shoulders. The cologne she’d smelled earlier now surrounded her, and she caught hints of melon and sage that she’d missed before. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Reaching into the bag from the Frosted Cake, Derek pulled out a few clear to-go containers and handed her one. “So, you’re helping with that festival Evan was talking about? The one that’s supposed to help the economy recover from the earthquake?”
She cracked open her container and smiled at the turkey club and pickle spear sitting inside. There was such comfort in the familiar, and Ms. Josephine’s food was one of them. “Yes, I’m kind of running the show. Evan’s doing a lot too, but it’s only part of his job.”
Derek took a bite of his burger and chewed, staring out at the breaking waves. “And you’re also working full time and helping Ben plan his wedding?”
“And hopefully buying the wedding business from my boss in a few months.” Chomping down on her sandwich, she grimaced. Why had she told him that?
“Wow. That’s big. Congrats. I know you always wanted to own a wedding business.”
He remembered that? Ashley swallowed and set her sandwich down, wiping her hands with a napkin. “Thanks. And yes, it’s exciting, but also a bit nerve wracking. There’s just a lot riding on …”
Yeah, she definitely shouldn’t tell him that.
“On what?” Derek polished off the rest of his burger and leaned back on his hands, finally turning his head to look at her.
Tiny wings flapped in her gut, tickling her insides. “Oh, um, on your wedding, actually.”
“How’s that?”
“My boss said if I prove that I can successfully handle a last-minute, upscale event like your wedding, then he’d sell me the business. Otherwise, it might go to his niece.”
Derek was quiet for a moment. The shadow of flames from the bonfire several feet away danced across his face. “Sorry.” He whispered the word, so she had to lean in to hear. “That it’s so last minute.”
And here was her chance to dig in, to learn more about him and Claire, what made them tick. What he loved about her. Why they worked. And why they were in such a hurry to get married.
Here, in the quiet, all she had to do was ask.
But did she really want to know? Maybe they had a very private reason for the rush—one that would become evident in less than nine months. Hadn’t Claire mentioned having a fairly traditional family?
The thought made Ashley queasy.
Straightening, she tugged off the shirt he’d loaned her, folding it in half and gently setting it back in his lap. “It’s my job to make your day perfect, no matter what. I just want you both to be happy.”
And what about you?
But just like she always did when the voice in her head got brave enough to speak up, Ashley shoved the thought away into the distant corners of her heart where she wouldn’t have time to really chew on it.
Chapter 4
There was nothing like being underground, away from all the stress and noise. Here, in this cool cellar cut into the side of a hill, Derek allowed peace to fill his lungs for the first time since he’d arrived back home.
He ran his fingers along
the strong wood of a nearby barrel and inhaled the damp, earthy scent of his surroundings.
“You look happy, Boss.” Mateo, his cellar master, came up beside him. Though a foot shorter than Derek in height, his broad shoulders and strong back more than made up for it. “Good to be home, eh?”
“It is.” Good to be home … and away from wedding planning.
Away from Ashley.
If yesterday’s meeting and subsequent dinner on the beach were any indication, he’d be best off leaving the planning to her. By herself. Without him. Because somehow, despite all his reservations, she’d needled her way past his defenses—and he couldn’t let that happen again.
“Boss?”
“Yes?” Derek shook himself from the memory of Ashley sitting on the sand snuggled in his shirt. Even this morning, the thing had still smelled like some sort of tropical fruit.
“I asked if there was anything I could do for you.” Mateo’s bushy eyebrows came together like two caterpillars crawling close.
A shout echoed from the back of the underground enclosure—probably some cellar rats hard at work.
“I wanted to chat with you about our barrels.” Derek rapped his knuckles against the one to his left. “I’d like to ask Donovan about crafting us some made from Limousin.”
“That’s a European oak, right?”
“Yes, and it has a wider, looser grain. The vineyard where I interned used it for their chardonnay and cognac, and frankly, it was the best of both I’ve ever tasted.”
Mateo scratched behind his ear. “I can see what kind of pricing he’d give us on those. How many would you want?”
Though the partnership with Claire’s vineyard would provide extra resources, Derek needed to conserve in the meantime. “Let’s see what price he comes back with and then decide.”
“You got it.”
“And one more—”
“Derek, there you are.”
He turned to find his youngest sister, Heather, behind them. Wisps of hair fell from her brown ponytail, and she seemed a bit out of breath.
“Everything okay?”
“Dad and Nancy just got home from his doctor’s appointment.” She crossed her arms. “They want to talk with us.”
“Right now?” If Dad was interrupting the workday, that didn’t bode well for their news.
“Yeah.”
Mateo gripped Derek’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll be here until six if you need to talk some more. Stay happy, okay, Boss?”
Derek forced a weak smile as he followed Heather out into the bright sunlight. Happy. Right. What was happiness, anyway?
“I just want you both to be happy.”
Ashley’s voice floated back to him on the breeze as he trudged with his sister through the vineyard toward the house. The fact Ashley could wish him well meant she felt nothing but friendship for him—if even that.
That was good. Because knowing the truth meant he could be happy with Claire.
Maybe just not as happy as he would have been with someone he loved. But then again, look at his parents. They’d loved each other once upon a time, and then his mom had left, never to be heard from again.
Yeah, happiness was not a realistic goal for his life, and he was better off for it.
“Why do you think they need to talk to us?” Derek caught up to Heather, who’d strode ahead as if ants bit at her heels.
Heather rubbed the edge of her eyes as she turned to him. She looked tired, but being a single working mom of a four-year-old was bound to be exhausting. “Not sure. But their moods didn’t seem to indicate good news.”
He picked up the pace as well, and soon they arrived at the house and headed inside. While Claire’s family home was a veritable castle, the Campbells’ residence smacked more of a homey vibe, with a faux bearskin rug covering the wood floor and a comfortable but worn microfiber couch and loveseat draped in homemade quilts set in a room that overlooked the vineyard.
His dad and stepmom sat on the loveseat, holding hands, and his middle sister, Christina, perched on the edge of the blue La-Z-Boy recliner. Christina stared into the empty stone fireplace, tugging on a strand of her long auburn hair as she worried her lip.
Dad bounced Heather’s daughter, Mia, on his knee, wincing in the process. As soon as Mia saw her mom and Derek enter, she hopped up and ran toward them, throwing her arms around Derek’s leg. “Uncle Elephant!”
“Hey, Peanut.” Before she could respond, he lifted her up and tickled her belly. Her hysterical squeals filled the room, easing some of the tension from everyone’s shoulders. Too bad her giggles couldn’t cure the room of it altogether.
He placed Mia back on the ground, and Heather swooped in. “Millie made some cookies, baby. Why don’t you go ask her for some?” Millie Rosche, their housekeeper and cook, had been with them since Derek was a child, and she helped watch Mia while Heather worked from the office attached to the tasting room.
Mia scampered out of the room, yelling “Cookies!” at the top of her lungs.
Dad gave a warm chuckle. “That girl brings so much joy into this house.”
“She’s the light of my life, that’s for sure.” Heather sat on the couch, and Derek joined her. “Now, what’s going on, Dad?”
Nancy shifted in her seat.
Dad patted her hand. “As you all know, I had my six-month checkup.” He paused, pulling his lips into a straight line. “It looks like my prognosis has worsened.”
“Worsened? Ten years wasn’t bad enough?” Reaching for a couch pillow, Heather clutched it to her chest.
“I’ve moved into end-stage renal disease.”
Derek breathed hard through his nose. “Remind us what that means in layman’s terms.”
“They’ve given me about five years if I go on dialysis.”
Five years? That … No. “Why did this happen?”
Dad looked at each of his three children for a long, meaningful moment. “We knew it would come to this if I didn’t receive a transplant. True, it came sooner than we’d have liked, but I’m not dead yet.”
Christina straightened. “Daddy!”
“Well, I’m not, and I’ll not have you all treating me like an invalid.” His voice was full of emotion. “I feel grateful God has given me as much time as he has, and we’re just going to make the most of every minute we have. Okay?”
Standing up, Derek moved to the window, taking in the fields, the hills, the green. This was supposed to be a good year, a fruitful one, the year when life turned around for his family. “There’s got to be more that the doctors can do.”
“Not at the moment.”
“That’s not true.”
Derek whirled as Nancy finally piped up.
She worried her lip. “Five years is just an estimate. It could be longer if he cuts back on the amount of stress in his life.”
“Nancy, we talked about this.”
“No, you talked about this, Jack.”
Heather turned wide eyes toward Derek. Her response was warranted though—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his stepmother raise her voice.
“You’ve been working yourself ragged these last few months. All the stress of keeping the vineyard running hasn’t been good for your blood pressure or your heart. You have to stop.” Her eyes pleaded with him.
As if no one else in the room existed, Dad lifted his swollen hand to Nancy’s face and lightly brushed a piece of gray hair behind her ear. “I can’t let our family legacy die, Nan. I’ve worked too hard. My family has worked too hard. And I need to have something to leave the kids.”
“Dad, we have a say in this too.” Derek moved back to the couch, plopping down so hard the legs scooted back an inch. “I, for one, agree with Nancy. You have to take it easy. I’m back now and I’ll take over for you.” He’d just have to live here for the time being, even after the wedding. Maybe he could fly out to France every month or so, split his life between the two vineyards. Claire would understand.
At least, he hoped so.
His father looked at him. “Much as I appreciate it, son, you have a wedding to plan. You don’t have time to take over fully.”
“Ashley has a lot of it covered. I can still help relieve a significant amount of the pressure.”
Frowning, his dad finally nodded. “All right.”
“And what about us? We can help too, you know.” Heather gestured between herself and Christina. “We love our home just as much as Derek does.”
“And you.” Christina’s voice broke. “We love you, Daddy.”
Dad leaned forward and took Christina’s hand. “And I love all of you. But while Derek actually enjoys this work, I know if it were up to you girls, you wouldn’t be here anymore. You’ve got other dreams and goals than to be tied to this place—and to a dying father. And I will not be a burden to my children in the time I have left.”
“You’re not!” Heather looked nearly in tears as she huffed out the words. “We do want to be here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather raise my daughter than right here, with her Papa and Yaya.”
“All right, all right.” How was his dad’s tone so full of peace? He was the only calm one in the room. Ironic, since he was also the sick one.
Derek, on the other hand, was ready to rip the curtains from the window.
He inhaled a deep breath. He wasn’t helpless. No, he couldn’t reverse his dad’s diagnosis or procure him a kidney, but he could do something to help. The partnership with Claire’s company would ease their burdens financially. Once that started, they’d have the funds available to hire another manager—maybe they could even get Jorge back—and then Dad could rest.
Which meant from now until Memorial Day weekend, making sure his wedding went off without a hitch would be his top priority.
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