The Marcelli Bride

by Susan Mallery

  Joe braced himself for a volley of criticism. There was no way he could survive a barrel tasting with his limited knowledge. Despite three years of visits to the Marcellis, he still preferred beer to wine.

  “You taste what will be there in the future,” Lorenzo said, swirling the liquid in his glass and studying it. “The hints of how the flower will blossom.” He inhaled the smell of the wine. “It is still young. Like a child. But when it grows, what will it become?”

  Joe took a sip and grimaced. The flavor was too sharp, too thick, too much of everything. Before he could say anything, Lorenzo also tasted the wine.

  “You see,” he said. “The blending has already begun.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The old man’s eyes narrowed. “What do you taste?” he asked sharply.

  Joe shrugged and told the truth. “Really bad wine.”

  Lorenzo muttered something under his breath before saying, “You know nothing of us. Nothing of our wine. You should know. This should be who you are.”

  Joe was tired of the argument, tired of the criticism. “Who’s fault is that?” he asked, allowing his temper to get the best of him. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who made sure I was sent away, so don’t go blaming me for what I do and don’t know. You’re responsible, old man.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Lorenzo snapped. “You know about us now. You should be here, married, having babies. You owe this family.”

  Joe set down his glass. “I owe you nothing . After thirty years I find out about you. So what? I have a whole life that doesn’t include you or the Marcellis. You get that? I made my own way in the world. You came looking for me when it was finally convenient. You keep pushing, but I’m not interested.”

  Lorenzo narrowed his gaze. “So now you say you don’t want your family. What kind of man thinks such a thing?”

  “I do.”

  “Because the navy is so wonderful? What happens when you get old, eh? They won’t want you anymore. But here, we will always want you.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Joe yelled, matching Lorenzo’s rising voice. “You don’t want me. You want some stud service to continue the family name because you have an outdated concept of a woman’s place in the world. Brenna’s doing this a whole lot better than I ever could.”

  “Wow.”

  Joe turned and saw Darcy standing in the barrel room. She looked more amused than shocked by all the shouting.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “If anyone was curious about the two of you being related, this moment would satisfy them. You even yell the same. Anyway, Mia and Ian are packed up and leaving. I thought the two of you might want to say good-bye.”

  Lorenzo shook his head. “That girl,” he said as he limped out of the room.

  Darcy stayed where she was, watching Joe.

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a screamer,” she said. “But you were matching him, decibel for decibel. It kinda kills my image of the cool, collected SEAL.”

  “He pisses me off.”

  “I guess.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “Who would have thought Grandpa Lorenzo could take on the big, bad military guy and win.”

  He moved close and stared down at her. “I know forty-seven ways to kill you with my bare hands.”

  “Uh-huh.” The smile widened. “And I can bring you to your knees with a single sentence.”

  No way, he told himself, liking how she wasn’t intimidated by him or the argument.

  “Prove it.”

  She rested one hand on his chest, drew in a deep breath, and then sighed. “Joe, I think we should talk about our feelings.”

  11

  “Idon’t think my stitches are even,” Darcy said as she stared at the ten-inch square of fabric in her hands. “Aren’t they supposed to be even?”

  Paige leaned over and studied Darcy’s work, then glanced at her own. “Hey, you’re doing better than me. At this rate, the most they’ll let me do is collect leftover scraps and throw them in the trash.”

  Darcy tugged at the thread, but it wouldn’t pull through all the way, which left a little bit sticking up that didn’t exactly match the rest of the pattern.

  “This is for a good cause,” she muttered. “Tell me it is, because I’m so not getting it.”

  “We’re becoming better seamstresses so that when the next Marcelli bride gets her dress made we can help. Not that we’ll be here, but it beats weeding the vineyards, right?”

  Darcy smiled. “I don’t think they’d make us do that.”

  So far the Marcellis hadn’t asked her to do much of anything except show up for meals and be friendly. Grammy M had stopped by with the squares of fabric and had taught them a couple of basic quilting stitches, with the understanding that in time they would put their newfound skills to good use on a wedding gown.

  While Darcy loved the idea of a family of women sewing each bride’s dress, she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be here long enough to see it happen. Although maybe they would invite her back when Mia got married.

  “Have you talked to Lauren?” Paige asked, before she tugged too hard, broke her thread, and swore. “I’m not domestic. It’s as simple as that.”

  “You and me both,” Darcy said with a laugh. She tossed her square onto the coffee table in front of the sofa. “Yeah, I’ve talked to Lauren. I feel really guilty. I’m here and she’s stuck in some farmhouse in the Midwest. Lately she seems to know way too much about growing corn, which is a little scary. I don’t think she has anything else to do with her day but watch it grow and ripen.”

  Paige grinned. “She’s fine. I promise.”

  “Hope so.” Darcy glanced at the agent. “You know, Mia’s convinced there’s something going on between you and Alex.”

  Paige paused in the act of threading her needle. She blinked twice. “Really?”

  The innocence was too studied, too forced. “Is there?”

  “Special Agent Vanmeter and I are working on your security team,” Paige said primly.

  “And sharing a house. By the way, Mia told the entire family and wants us to help get you together.”

  Paige sagged against the sofa. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Not even a little. Of course now everyone is distracted by the news Joe was married before, if that helps.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  Darcy was stunned. “There is something going on.”

  “No, there’s not. But…” She hesitated. “There was. A lot of years ago. Alex and I met during our initial training and we developed a thing for each other. But when training was over, we both decided our careers were more important than any relationship and we went our separate ways.”

  Darcy hadn’t had a clue. She supposed no one did, except Mia, and that was the point. “And now?” she asked.

  “Now we’re protecting you.”

  Darcy didn’t think she believed that was the end of it. “Nothing else. No lingering sparks?”

  Paige smiled. “Spark is too strong. There might be some heavy smoldering, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Because Alex is such a tight-ass?”

  The smile turned into a grin. “You’ve noticed.”

  “Hard not to. The guy practically invented the word. He needs to lighten up.”

  “He wants to keep you safe.”

  It was a philosophy Darcy could get behind. Except, over the past couple of days, she’d found herself being less afraid. Less wary of every noise and person she met.

  “Are you going to pursue it?” Darcy asked.

  “Not a clue,” Paige admitted. “What about you? Lieutenant Commander Larson looks very hunky.”

  Darcy leaned forward and grabbed her fabric square. At the mention of Joe her insides got all tight and her face felt hot.

  “He’s okay,” she said quietly.

  Paige laughed. “Honey, we all know he kissed you out in the v
ineyard. You were observed by an agent.”

  Darcy looked at her. “You’re kidding.”

  “Sorry. No.”

  Great. One of the many joys of being related to the president. At least they didn’t know about the kiss in the exercise room.

  “He’s cute and all,” she admitted, “but I don’t really have great luck with guys.” The ones she’d met wanted her either for her sister or for her family connections.

  “Are you worried he’s only interested because you could help him with his career?” Paige asked.

  Darcy hadn’t considered that. “Could I?”

  Paige looked at her. “Honey, with a couple of phone calls, you could practically get him his own ship. I doubt he’d be interested. Not in any command he didn’t earn. He shares that with Alex.”

  Darcy chuckled. “Are you saying Joe’s a tight-ass, too.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Darcy hadn’t touched that particular body part, but she’d leaned against a lot of him, and he was rock solid everywhere. A quality she’d never considered in a man before but now found very desirable.

  Colleen walked into the living room. She carried a tray heavy with sandwiches, cookies, and the inevitable bottle of Marcelli wine. This one was a cab-merlot blend.

  “Now what are you two girls talking about?” Colleen asked as she set the tray on the coffee table and sat in the wing chair opposite the sofa.

  Paige waved her scrap of fabric. “That I was never very good at the domestic arts. All this lack of success is making me feel inadequate. I’m going to go clean my gun.”

  Darcy watched her go, then turned to Joe’s mother. “I’m afraid I’m not any better at this. My stitches aren’t even.”

  Colleen opened the bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. “I wouldn’t worry about it. At the rate we’re going, one of my granddaughters will have grown up and gotten engaged before Mia ever considers settling down.” She handed Darcy a glass, then relaxed in her chair. “I love Mia so much, but too many days with her around exhausts me.”

  “She’s sure full of energy.”

  “Among other things. I thought Lorenzo was going to have a heart attack when he realized Ian was sharing Mia’s room. We’d given him his own, of course, but young people today….” Colleen stopped and frowned. “My God. Did I actually say that? ‘Young people today’?” She closed her eyes. “I’m turning into my mother, only without the charming accent.”

  Darcy laughed.

  Colleen looked at her and smiled. “I suppose it was bound to happen.”

  “We’re all getting older.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t be able to claim that for some time,” Colleen said. “On the one hand Mia wears me out, on the other the house seems quiet without her. I’m glad we have you here with us, Darcy.”

  The unexpected words surprised Darcy. She tried to be a good houseguest, but she knew she was a relative stranger here. “You’ve all been very kind.”

  “Trust me. We’re not altruistic enough to be noble. We like having you around,” Colleen told her. “Although I’m not sure being an honorary Marcelli is as exciting as the life you’re used to. After all, you can go to the White House anytime you’d like.”

  Darcy nodded because it was expected, but in truth she didn’t feel as if she could just drop in. Maybe to see Lauren, but not for any other reason. Certainly not to see her father. Appointments were required.

  “It must be hard for the president,” Colleen said as she set down her glass of wine. “He’s been a widower for a long time, yet it can’t be easy for him to date.”

  “Not really. There’s a lot of speculation about his love life, but he has always said he won’t get involved with anyone until he’s out of office.”

  “I suppose that makes sense. How would he know if the woman was interested in him or what he could offer? Still, he must be lonely.”

  Darcy reached for a small sandwich but didn’t bite into it. She’d never considered that her father also had to deal with hangers-on. Sure, in his regular life, but not romantically. Of course there would be women who would want to marry the president. A fair number probably wanted to just sleep with him, but she didn’t want to think about that. Talk about an ick factor.

  “Of course he has his girls,” Colleen said. “Children are a blessing. And you’re both so close. You in town and Lauren right there in the private quarters.” She smiled. “I think you were smart to have your own place so you could keep your privacy.”

  “It is nice,” Darcy said because she knew the truth was far less appealing. A part of her had been interested in living in the White House. She’d imagined a room across from her sister and plenty of moments to enjoy the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But she’d never been invited. When rooms had been assigned and living arrangements discussed, the assumption had been she would be staying in her D.C. apartment.

  She’d kept her hurt to herself. She hadn’t wanted to upset Lauren or put her in the awkward position of having to petition their father on Darcy’s behalf.

  “Do you go to many dinners and evenings there?” Colleen asked.

  “Some. He hasn’t really started entertaining much yet. I received invitations when he was vice president, but I was still in graduate school and had to refuse a lot of them.”

  Lauren had teased her about not wanting to come to anything but being unwilling to flat out say so. Lauren had said—

  Darcy picked up her wine and took a sip. Was that what had happened? Had she said no so many times that they’d stopped asking? Did they think she wasn’t interested?

  No, she told herself. That wasn’t possible. They had to know the truth. Didn’t they?

  • • •

  The days stayed warm and sunny. Joe knew from his nighttime reading that warm sunny days were best right before harvest. That the heat and light brought out the sugar in the grapes. Or did it keep sugar from being in the grapes? Damn. He’d just read about it the other night. Why couldn’t he remember?

  Because this wasn’t his thing, he told himself. He wasn’t interested in wine or Marcelli land or grapes.

  He rounded the corner of the house and saw Darcy in the shade, leaning against the back of a large jacaranda tree. Her eyes were closed, and her book had fallen off her lap. Just behind her were two agents, playing cards.

  Joe nodded at them, then approached her. He crouched down at the edge of the blanket and waited until she opened her eyes and saw him.

  “Hey,” she murmured, her voice low and her skin slightly flushed.

  She wore a loose tank top and shorts, both black. Flipflops lay beside the blanket. Any makeup she’d applied that morning had faded, leaving her lips bare and only a shade or two darker than her cheeks.

  She was gorgeous. Sexy, soft, and a thousand other things he shouldn’t think. If he did, the physical manifestation of his thoughts would inform everyone in visual range exactly what he had on his mind.

  “Hey, yourself.” He sat next to her. “You’re still not sleeping.”

  “Don’t go there, big guy. I’m too drowsy to fight with you today.”

  “It’s not a fight if you do what I say.”

  Her eyes widened as she laughed. “Do you think there’s even the tiniest chance that’s going to happen?”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  “Or on this planet,” she told him. “I’m okay. And for your information, I’m sleeping better.”

  “How much?”

  “Maybe fifteen percent.”

  “Not good enough.” Her hand lay beside his. He wanted to pick it up and touch it, maybe lace their fingers together. Which meant his brain had failed and he was in serious need of some combat time.

  “You should talk to somebody,” he told her. “A professional. Even my SEAL teams need help now and then.”

  “Okay. Maybe. When this is over and I’m back in D.C.”

  He thought about pushing back, but if she saw someone sooner it would mean one more body
who knew her location. That crowd was already too big for comfort.

  “Brenna says the chardonnay grapes will be ready to harvest in a couple of weeks,” Darcy said. “I kind of want to be here to see that.”

  He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then lowered his voice. “I’ve been reading some of the books she left me. Harvest is a lot of work. There are—” He broke off at her smile. “What?” he demanded.

  “Oooh, I could really blackmail you with the fact that you’re studying up on wine.”

  “But you won’t. We’re in this together.”

  The second the words were out, he wondered what he was talking about. Darcy should have been surprised, too, but instead of calling him on it, she changed the subject.

  “I’ve never spent any time in this part of the country, and I have to say I’m sorry about that. I really love it here. I could get used to this kind of life.” She glanced at him. “I mean that at face value, so don’t get all weird on me.”

  “I rarely get weird on anyone. I can see how it could be appealing.”

  She stretched out her legs, then drew a knee to her chest. “Really? So why are you so determined to get away from here as fast as you can?”

  A legitimate question. “I love what I do,” he said. “I make a difference every day. I trust my guys with my life, and they do the same with me.”

  Her dark eyes settled on his face. “And you can’t trust the Marcellis?”

  “Not the same way.”

  “That’s unfortunate, because they are just as willing to give up their lives for you. They love you, Joe. More than you know and certainly more than you deserve. I wish you could see that.”

  He shrugged, not sure what to say.

  “The good news is they’re not going to give up,” she told him. “You are so stuck with them.”

  “I’ve figured that out already. Brenna and Mia are easy, but I don’t know what to do with the rest of them.”

  “You’re letting Grandma Tessa feed you. That’s something.”

  He shrugged. “It’s just food.”