Blush, Book 3 the Crescent Lake Winery

by Lucinda Race

  “Look out the window.”

  A grin split Owen’s cheek and he waved frantically. “Hi, Jack!”

  He got out and leaned into the open passenger window. “Hi, Owen. I brought a couple of your teammates with me.” He pointed to the back door. “Johnny and George.”

  Owen popped the buckle on his booster seat and grabbed his glove. “Really? Cool.” He slid toward the door and Jack opened it so Owen could hop out. “Come on, Mom.”

  The back door of his truck opened and his nephews tumbled out, giving Owen a high five. Then they said hi to Peyton.

  Johnny said, “Come on, Owen, let’s go play.”

  The grin on Jack’s face widened. “Yeah, come on, Mom. It’s time to play ball.”

  Her stomach clenched. She was happy he showed up for the kids’ sake, but it was disconcerting being this close to him. Those old feelings poked at the shell over her heart. “I’m right behind you.”

  Jack and the boys were headed for the grassy area just beyond the blacktop. The kids were talking about how far they were going to hit the ball and what position they wanted to play tonight.

  “Owen, you and the boys can run ahead. We’ll be right behind you.” Before the words had even left her mouth, they were off and running.

  Jack and Peyton strolled through the grass, side by side. She gave him a sidelong look. “It was nice of you to volunteer.”

  “I wanted to help out the kids and Liza. It’s like you said a while back. Sometimes a mom just needs a break. The boys have been a handful lately, pushing her buttons.”

  “I know how that is. Owen does it too.”

  He nodded as if he really did understand. “This will be fun and something to get me out of the house at night. It seems for the last six months, all I’ve done since I bought that old farmhouse is work. I haven’t even taken the boat out yet for the first trip of the season.”

  “I’m surprised—you love being on the water. I remember even when I was still in high school and you’d come home from college, we’d go canoeing or borrow a rowboat so you could get your fix.” She looked at her sneakers and wished she hadn’t brought up the past.

  “We used to have a lot of fun, getting the gang together and paddling out to one of the small islands.”

  She looked straight ahead. “It was. I’ve been thinking about getting a two-person kayak for me and Owen. I’m currently in research mode, but I still haven’t decided.”

  “You do love your research.” He gave her an easy smile.

  She stopped before they entered the field. The three boys huddled with the rest of the team. She pointed to a tall guy wearing a red baseball cap. “There’s Head Coach Barrett.”

  Jack looked where she was pointing. “I need to check in and see where he needs me tonight.”

  She stuck an old Mickey Mouse baseball hat on her head and tucked the ends of her chin-length bob underneath the cap and brushed her bangs off her face.

  Jack’s eyes sparked with appreciation as he took in her outfit: jean shorts, baseball-style T-shirt, sneakers, and now the hat. “I like the hat.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I hope the team appreciates how good you were when you played shortstop back in high school. You had a great arm.”

  “Allow me to correct you on a few important points.” She playfully wagged a finger in his direction. “I had a great arm and wheels on my feet. And no, there is no reason for me to be modest. Our team was good and that’s why we made it to the state championship my junior and senior year.”

  He nodded.

  “We won the finals my senior year, not that you would know. You weren’t there.” She turned away and stalked toward the infield.

  * * *

  Jack was surprised at the hurt in her voice and jogged after her. When he caught up with her, he touched her shoulder. “I was there. For every game.”

  She slowed and, with a shake of her head, said, “Not for the last one. I wanted to celebrate with you, but you were nowhere to be found. And then a few weeks later, poof before I graduated from high school.” She waved her arm and her voice ratcheted up. “You made the decision to move to California without so much as a conversation with me, forgetting about your plans for graduate school.” She tapped her chest and blinked away tears. “I would have understood, but you didn’t have the courtesy to even tell me. I found out when I stopped by your parents’ house and saw your bags packed. That wasn’t cool.” She stopped short of saying it had crushed her.

  His eyes grew wide. They had gone from a friendly conversation to her fighting tears; was she still hurting from what had happened? “I saw the last out you threw, and then my buddy needed help. He had a flat tire and he was my ride to school. When I came back to the field, you were gone.”

  He didn’t address the rest of her point. She was right.

  She thrust her chin up. “I call BS. You should have talked to me before you left. Well, I’m glad you told me, but it doesn’t change the rest. For right now, I need to get in gear. I promised to help one of the kids with his batting and he’s waiting for me.”

  Jack couldn’t believe Peyton turned her back on him again. He’d be damned if he would apologize for helping a friend, and it had been twelve years. She should have had more faith in him. The whole idea behind the change in his plans was to get away from Crescent Lake Winery and his father, not her. He wasn’t going to follow along on the path his father had chosen for him—to work in an office or be a salesman. He had wanted to work with the land. Surely Peyton understood it was his passion.

  He walked in the direction of the coach, but his thoughts were with her. He wanted to ask her to have dinner with him, see if they could get back to a better place and then maybe even start dating again.

  He did a one-eighty and walked over to where she was showing a boy how to choke up on the bat. He waited while the boy propped the bat on his shoulder and eyed the ball.

  She positioned him away from the tee. “Practice swinging the bat and stay choked up on it. Okay?”

  She jumped back just as the bat came slicing through the air. Jack pulled her into his body before the aluminum bat could connect with her midsection. The zing he felt being this close to her jolted him body and soul. What could he do to get them back to where they might have been if they had stayed together? He had been trying to ease toward spending time with Peyton, alone, for months. Someone was always around when they were together.

  “Are you okay?” His lips hovered near her ear. He could feel the shiver race through her. Was it nerves or, could he hope, being close to him?

  She pulled away. “I’m fine.” She straightened her hat even though it wasn’t askew. Her mouth tipped downward. “What did you want to talk about?”

  He pushed ahead despite her chilly look. “I know this isn’t the best time to ask but I’d like to take you to dinner, the two of us.”

  She gave him a wary look. “Like a date?”

  He couldn’t help but keep his smile sliding from one side of his face to the other. “It’s a thing people do when they want to spend time with someone they like.”

  She chewed her bottom lip and looked everywhere but at Jack.

  He remembered this habit. It wasn’t necessarily a good sign.

  With a slow shake of her head, she said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m really busy with Owen and, well, you know. Our history would make things awkward. We should keep our relationship in the friend zone.”

  He felt like a deflated balloon. “Oh.” He hadn’t expected her to say no; he thought things were changing between them. “Well, um, okay then. I’ll go see the coach.” The silence was awkward.

  She jerked a thumb toward the boy still swinging the bat. “I’m going to get back to this.” She kicked the ground in front of her. “Thanks anyway.”

  3

  “Welcome.” Peyton smiled at the three couples who approached the bar. “Is this your first time at our Spring Fling event?” She placed six stemless winegl
asses on the wooden bartop.

  One of the women picked up a glass. “Yes, it’s the first time we’ve been to the Finger Lakes, and I love these glasses.” Her voice had a distinctive Southern drawl.

  “Have you taken the behind-the-scenes tour?”

  “No. What does it cover?” The woman looked at her companions.

  “You’ll be escorted from the vineyard to the crush and aging rooms and then back here, where you can select five wines to taste. Or you’re welcome to enjoy a bite to eat in our bistro”—she gestured to the doors behind them—“which is right through those French doors.”

  The woman turned to the other ladies like she was confident the men would just go along with the plan. “I’d love to do the tour and then the tasting. What do y’all think?”

  The others murmured their agreement. She asked Peyton, “Where do we go to sign up?”

  Peyton looked across the room and caught Jack’s attention. He had just come back with a group. He came right over, smiling at everyone.

  “This is Jack Price, one of the family members who owns the winery. He’ll be happy to give you the tour.”

  “Thank you, Peyton.” He clasped his hands together low, just at his waist. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll start in the vineyard.” He pointed to his right.

  The group followed him as he began his spiel about his great-grandfather, Samuel Price, who was a farmer and had encouraged his son Donald to plant grapes and make wine. His words grew faint as the group left the tasting room. By the time Jack brought them back, they’d be ready to sample—and, more importantly, buy wine.

  Peyton turned her attention to a group of people who had just come from the bistro. They were ready to purchase hopefully at least a case. After she rang them up, the throngs of people were never-ending. This had to be one of their best events yet.

  * * *

  Jack walked the group from the vines through the process of how CLW wines were crafted. He stopped in front of Anna’s lab. “My sister, Anna, is our enologist, but she’s currently working in France. However, she’s not just an award-winning winemaker but has an uncanny knack for creating specialty blends. In her absence, our father Sam has stepped in to help out.”

  Jack smiled when one of the men looked at his wife and asked, “What’s an enologist?”

  Jack continued. “An expert in making wines. They work very closely with me in monitoring the growing season right up to harvest.”

  “Isn’t that a sommelier?” the same man asked.

  “A sommelier will select and manage a wine cellar, perhaps in a restaurant. They’re an expert in wines and how to pair it with food. It’s all about the experience for the diner.”

  “Huh,” the man said. “So this is quite the family affair. What’s your favorite wine out of all the wines here?”

  Jack made a show of thinking, but he didn’t need to. “I’m a steak kind of a guy so the Cabernet Sauvignon would be my first choice.” He tapped the stainless-steel tank next to him. “However, if I was thinking seafood…”

  The woman grinned. “Wait. What if you were going to have Indian butter chicken?”

  “Ah, trying to throw me off my practiced speech.” Jack gave her a warm smile. But he was ready for her. “We have a very nice Riesling that’s perfect. I’m sure you’ll be able to taste it when I return you to Peyton, and if you want to have some fun, toss out a few dinner ideas and ask her what she’d suggest.”

  After thirty minutes, he returned the group to the tasting room, but Peyton had several people at the bar and wine was flowing as she explained the different varieties. It looked like she needed a hand with cashing out purchases. She handled each customer with finesse, as if each one had her undivided attention. She smiled, answering questions and making recommendations for pairings from appetizers to dessert.

  He was pleased when he noticed his brother Leo walking through the back of the room and waved him over.

  “Leo, would you be able to carry a few cases out for these folks?”

  His younger brother stacked the two cases on a small dolly and turned to an older couple. “If you’re ready, I’ll follow you to your car.” Leo pushed the door with his backside and held it open as they preceded him out.

  * * *

  After a couple more hours, the crowd had finally thinned. The last few customers were walking out the door when Jack leaned against the bar and smacked her a high five. Peyton poured a glass of water and, without asking, handed him one too. “Thanks for pitching in this afternoon. Things went from steady to a zoo in a blink of an eye.” She took a long drink and pushed her bangs off her forehead. “What about the tours?”

  “Dad and Don took over. They saw the controlled chaos out here and knew you needed an extra set of hands.” He held his up. “Mine.”

  She frowned. “I don’t want them to think I can’t handle the traffic.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Don’t take that the wrong way. People were four and five deep in front of the bar. There’s no way you would have finished everyone by closing time and given each one the personal attention you’re famous for.” He held up his hand. “With the number of people here today, I’d say this was the best opening weekend we’ve ever had.”

  Kate came out of the bistro. She was wiping her hands and still wearing her chef coat with black-and-white-checked pants. She made a beeline for the bar and dropped to a stool.

  Peyton handed her a glass of water. “Good day?”

  “Better than I had hoped. I ran out of the special within ninety minutes. I’m going to be prepping for a while before I can call it a day so I’ll be ready for tomorrow. The final day is always the busiest during Spring Fling and I sent Stan home since he’s going to come in early tomorrow.”

  It was nice of Kate to send her assistant chef home. Today had been so insane. Peyton looked at Jack. “I’ll help. I can chop.”

  “I’ll help too,” Jack said, “and I’m sure Don will pitch in too if Mom and Dad can go over to your place and take over for the nanny.”

  “How’s Jessie working out?” Peyton asked Kate.

  “She’s great with the kids. I swear she has an extra set of hands and eyes in the back of her head to take care of Ben and the babies.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Peyton had to wonder if she should have volunteered to help. With Jack around, it would be hard to remain aloof.

  Kate laid a hand on Peyton’s. “Don’t you need to get home to Owen?”

  “I’ll call Mom to make sure they don’t have plans, but I’m sure I have time.”

  “Thanks, Peyton. I appreciate the help.”

  Peyton hoped this wouldn’t be a mistake. She gave Jack a tight smile. “What are friends for.”

  * * *

  Side by side, Peyton and Jack chopped vegetables, making short work of the mounds of peppers, onions, and mushrooms while Don sautéed onions and Kate rolled out crust for quiche. The kitchen had a lingering aroma that made Peyton’s mouth water; she realized she was hungry.

  “Kate, would you mind if I made some sandwiches for us? They won’t be chef caliber but they’ll fill the void.”

  Jack said, “I’ll lend a hand.”

  Peyton found it oddly disconcerting to be working this close to Jack. In some ways, it felt like old times. When they dated, they had often worked together on opening day. Surprisingly, it felt good to be more at ease when she was around him.

  Kate glanced over her shoulder. “I can’t remember when I ate last either. Sandwiches sound great. Grab whatever looks good from the walk-in.”

  Don kissed his wife’s cheek. “If I were to guess, it was probably breakfast. Once you get to work, you tend to forget about yourself and focus on taking care of your customers.”

  Peyton watched them and wished she had a great guy in her life. One who, like Don, would move heaven and earth for their happiness as a couple. Unlike Jack, who took off without a backward glance or a decent explanation of why he chose to take a job three thousand miles
away right after his senior year of college. She hadn’t even known he was thinking about it. Her mood began to sour and she had to shake off the dark cloud that was beginning to cast a pall over what had been a good day.

  * * *

  Jack stood in the open door of the walk-in refrigerator. “What’s everyone in the mood for? There’s some chicken salad, or I could whip up omelets if you don’t need the eggs for quiche.”

  “I vote for eggs, and I ordered plenty,” Kate said.

  He handed Peyton a bowl of eggs and gathered other ingredients to be mixed in. “Can you break six eggs into each of these smaller bowls and whisk them up?” He took two skillets from the pot rack and added butter, then handfuls of freshly chopped onions, peppers, and mushrooms. He made it look effortless; she’d still be dicing peppers if it were her job. “Could you grate some cheese for these? I saw some cheddar on the right side of the fridge.”

  “I’ll grab a bag for you.” She could hear Kate laugh softly and looked around the kitchen. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “I’m a bit of a purist when it comes to cheese, Peyton. I don’t purchase pre-shredded to use in the bistro. In my opinion, block cheese retains its flavors better.”

  “Oh, I had no idea. I hate to sound dumb, but I’ve never grated cheese before.”

  Jack took her by the hand and pulled her to the workstation. “I’ll show you where the grater is.”

  She gave him a cautious look. Did he have a hidden agenda? But it didn’t matter; she knew where she stood.

  His spicy cologne teased her senses. It smelled like the same one she had bought him for his last birthday when they were together. It was something she’d never forget.

  “Peyton, is something wrong?” he asked.

  “No. Just wondering how quickly I’ll get the gist on using the food processor. Remember, I don’t cook.”

  He handed her a metal box-looking thing that was covered with sharp holes. “You’re going to use this.” His eyes twinkled with laughter. “It’s called a cheese grater.”