Prosecco and Peonies

by SJ McCoy

  He closed his arms around her. “I love you, Molly.”

  “And I love you.” She looked up at him. “We didn’t talk about it last weekend, but I think we should now.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m on the pill. I’m guessing I don’t need to be?”

  “No. Unfortunately, you won’t ever have to worry about getting pregnant by me.”

  She nodded. “Then I’ll stop taking it.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, and she’d guess that he wanted to ask why she was on it. She didn’t need to be. She’d dated a guy for a while last year, and she’d gone on the pill then. She wasn’t going to explain unless he asked. It was up to him if he wanted to know or not.

  He didn’t ask.

  Tuesday morning rolled around all too soon. It’d been a wonderful weekend, but now it was time to go back to work. Marcos was going over to the house that he’d rented, and Molly was going into the restaurant. Part of her wanted to call Grady and tell him she was going to take another few days off. He could handle things at work; she knew it, but that wasn’t the point. Last weekend at Summer Lake had been like a mini vacation. This weekend had still been an escape from reality. They’d hiked and hung out and hid away from the world. Today marked the return to real life—however unreal it might seem for Marcos to be back here. She needed to know that they could build and live a real, normal, everyday life. That they could and would work together through the routines of living.

  She wasn’t sure how that fit in with him going over to his rented place. Part of her wanted to suggest that he should stay here and give that place up. She justified not suggesting it by remembering that all couples started out living in their own separate homes, and at some point, they reached the stage where they were ready to move in together. It was a little different for her and Marcos because of their history, but the same principles still applied.

  He set a mug of coffee down in front of her. “Do you have time?”

  “There’s always time for coffee,” she said with a smile.

  “Do you want to see each other tonight? Or are you ready for a break from me?”

  She chuckled. “I always want to see you. I don’t know what time I’ll close up, though. It’s usually around ten on Tuesdays.”

  He nodded. “Would you mind if I come in?”

  She cocked her head to one side. “I don’t mind, but I might not be able to sit with you. Grady’s off today, since he covered the whole weekend, so I won’t have any backup.”

  “I don’t need your attention. I just want to be around you, and I have to have dinner somewhere.”

  She laughed. “Are you over your love of cooking already?”

  “No, but it’s so much more enjoyable to cook for you than it is to cook for myself.”

  “Okay.” She checked her watch. “I should drink this and leave. Are you ready to go, or do you want to stay and lock up when you’re done?”

  “I’m ready whenever you are. I put all my things in the car while you were in the shower.”

  She went to him and planted a kiss on his lips. “Part of me wants you to not go.”

  “Part of me does, too. But there’s no rush.” He smiled. “You can ask me to move in with you when you’re ready.”

  She smiled. “Okay. I will.”

  He stood by her car with her before she left, and she smiled up at him. “We’re still like a pair of lovestruck teenagers, aren’t we?” she asked, not wanting to let go of his hand.

  He smiled. “In some ways, yes. In other ways, we’re older and wiser and beyond all the stupid mistakes.”

  “Good.”

  He slid his fingers into her hair and kissed her deeply, making her want to drag him back to bed instead of going to work.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  “Come in whenever you want.”

  He chuckled. “No. I’ll wait till tonight.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Marcos wandered around the house he’d rented. It hadn’t taken him long to get settled in, or at least moved in. He only had a couple of bags of clothes. He’d traveled light since he left Sicily. This place was right. Antonio had found it for him. He’d taken a six-month lease and could continue month to month after that if he wanted. He hoped he wouldn’t be there for the full six months. The thought of living here for even six weeks seemed like too long to him. He wanted to be with Molly—to live with her, to marry her. He blew out a sigh. He’d be as patient as she needed him to be.

  He went into the office. It was his favorite room in the house, which was good, considering it’d be the place he spent most of his time. He’d already set up his laptop. He’d have to buy a desktop and get set up properly, but the laptop was all he needed to check on his investments and buy and sell currency. He’d been pleasantly surprised by how well he’d done so far. He’d lived his life believing that success was earned. This whole cryptocurrency trading felt more like play than work, and the rewards so far had stunned him. He’d made more in the last six months than he had in the last six years. Most serious investors were still wary of cryptocurrencies. The mainstream media dismissed the whole market as a bubble that would burst and leave a lot of people broke. Even if the bubble did burst, he could live the rest of his life comfortably on what he’d made. He was still cautious and made sure that he wouldn’t lose more than he could afford to if the tides turned.

  He stared out the window at the view of the neighboring vineyards while he waited for the program to boot up. Growing up here, the vineyards had been a part of his life. They were his life. The vines, the wine, the business. He’d always thought they flowed in his blood. Maybe they didn’t. If not, then why did he have an almost overwhelming urge to go out and walk the vines?

  He smiled. He wondered what Antonio would think—what he’d say—if he showed up on the estate wandering around the vines. He shook his head. It’d only lead to questions. Questions he didn’t know the answers to himself. No. He didn’t need to be in the wine business. That was behind him. His heart started to pound in his chest at the thought. Was it really behind him? Was he never going to walk the vines again? Was sitting in an office like this—pleasant as it was—reading market reports and running assessments and analyses going to be enough for him? Hell, no. It wasn’t, and at that moment, he understood it. The trading and investing were taking care of his financial needs, but it would never fulfil his other needs—his passion. He’d told Antonio before he left the family business that he’d lost his passion for wine making. It had been true at the time. But perhaps it wasn’t anymore.

  Instead of running the currency analysis program he’d been loading, he searched for local real estate listings. There were always vineyards for sale in Napa. It was a mecca for wannabe winemakers. A new wave came each year, and most of them didn’t survive. They sold the properties they’d sunk their dreams and savings into and left again empty-handed.

  He browsed through the listings. Most of them were overpriced and underwhelming. He knew the area well—at least, he used to. He knew the history of most of the places for sale, if not their more recent history. They were a few small acreages that might be promising. He blew out a sigh. He should get to work. He needed to think it over first and talk to Molly. He wondered what she’d think. Would she be happy if he wanted to make wine again? Did she see it as part of who he was? He didn’t know. And it wasn’t the most pressing question of the day. The first question was whether he wanted to buy or sell. The second was how long he’d be able to hold off before going into town to see her.

  He did well. He managed to get lost in his work. The day flew by, and before he knew it, it was late afternoon. He didn’t want to make himself anything to eat—he’d rather eat at the restaurant. He decided to call his brother and see what he was doing. Given that Cameron was still away on his honeymoon with Piper, Mary Ellen would probably be working late. Antonio might want to meet up for a drink.

  “Ciao, big brothe
r,” Antonio answered with a smile in his voice.

  “Hey. How’s it going?”

  “Everything’s going wonderfully in my world. More to the point, how are things going for you?”

  “They’re going well. Molly went back to work today, and I’m going in there to see her later, but I have some time to kill—”

  Antonio laughed. “You mean you’re impatient and restless, and you don’t know what to do with yourself until you can go in there without being too early and making a nuisance of yourself.”

  Marcos laughed with him. “Yes, I suppose that is what I mean. So …”

  “So, why don’t you meet me at Muse? I’m finished up here, and Mary Ellen’s going to be working until I go take her some dinner and drag her out of her office.”

  “I wondered if she’d give up her job when you got married.”

  Antonio laughed. “There’s more chance of me giving up mine—and you know how likely that is. But let’s hang up. We can talk when I see you.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were sitting out on the terrace of Antonio’s wine bar, looking out at the beautiful view of the valley.

  “What’s on your mind?” asked Antonio.

  Marcos shrugged. “Nothing. Everything.”

  “But something in particular. Come on. I know you too well.”

  Marcos nodded. “It seems you do, even though I’m not sure I know myself anymore.”

  “You’re working out who you want to be. It’s understandable. Is everything good with you and Molly?”

  “Everything’s great. It’s all I could ask for—well, unless she just wanted to say yes right now, and I’d marry her tomorrow.”

  Antonio chuckled. “And I thought I was the impatient one.”

  “We’re cut from the same cloth.”

  “We are. So, if all’s as well as can be expected in your love life, what else is troubling you? Something is.”

  Marcos blew out a sigh. “I had a crazy idea this morning.”

  “What kind of crazy?”

  “I started looked at small acreages for sale.”

  Antonio grinned. “That’s not crazy. It seems perfectly logical to me. You’re a winemaker, or at least you always were. Now that the turbulence in your life is settling, why wouldn’t you get back to doing what you love.”

  “I thought I’d lost the passion.”

  Antonio shook his head. “I couldn’t believe that was permanent. I’m only surprised that you said small acreage.”

  Marcos shrugged. “I don’t want or need to get back into the business on the same kind of scale. I don’t want my life to revolve around it like it used to.”

  Antonio raised his eyebrows.

  “I don’t need to make money—I’ve found another way to do that. I don’t want it to take up all of my time and attention—I want to give those to Molly.”

  Antonio grinned. “To Molly and to your family when you start one.”

  Marcos’ heart sank. He hadn’t told Antonio the reason he and Caterina hadn’t had a family.

  His brother’s smile faded. “What’s the problem? She doesn’t want children?”

  “It’s not that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’m the one who can’t have children.”

  Antonio stared at him for a long few moments. “Marcos. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  He smiled. “There’s no need to say anything. You’re sad because it’s news to you. I’ve known for years. Caterina and I tried.” He shrugged. “In a way, it’s a blessing. I don’t think I could ever have divorced her if we had kids.”

  “True. And what about Molly? Does she know?”

  “She knows, and she does want a family, but she says she’d be happy to adopt.”

  “That’s good, then, no?”

  Marcos chuckled. “It is good. It’s all good. Don’t look so sad.”

  Antonio shrugged. “I’m sorry. As long as you’re okay with it, that’s all that matters. I guess I’m hearing your news and wondering how I would feel.”

  “I know, and I felt like that when I first found out, but I’ve had years to get used to it.” He looked at his watch. “I think it’s okay for me to go over to Molly’s now.” It was still a little early, but he didn’t want to sit here talking about this anymore. He hated his brother feeling sorry for him. He hated feeling sorry for himself. He’d come to terms with his infertility when he was with Caterina. Now that he was with Molly again, knowing that they would never have a child of their own was a whole new level of pain he had to work through.

  Chapter Eleven

  Molly checked her watch. She was nervous about tonight. Marcos had come in for dinner each night since he’d been back. She loved it. He set himself up in a booth in the corner and minded his own business. He’d catch her eye now and then and give her that smile of his that still melted her insides. Last night, Chelsea and Grant had joined him. It’d been good to see him chatting and laughing with them. She had a feeling he and Grant would become good friends.

  Tonight was different. Tonight was the first time Grady was working with her. The first couple of nights he’d been off, and yesterday he’d been rostered on for the early shift. Tonight was the first time Marcos would meet him, and she was hoping it would go smoothly—that they’d both behave themselves.

  She pushed her way into the kitchen and stood there for a moment. She was being silly. There was nothing to worry about. Grady was a flirt, and Marcos had been a touch jealous. That was all.

  Grady came in behind her. “It’s a busy one, Molly Moo. Have you ever thought about expanding?”

  She laughed. “Nope. This is as much as I can handle, thank you. And besides, even if I did want to, there’s nowhere to expand to, and I wouldn’t give up this location.”

  “No, I know that; you’d be crazy to, but I heard that next door might not be a coffee shop for much longer.”

  Molly raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? And where did you hear that?” She hadn’t heard anything.

  He winked at her. “I know people.”

  She laughed. “Does that mean it’s pillow talk?” She hoped so.

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I shouldn’t be telling you either way. It’s not public information yet, but I thought you might want the inside scoop. In case you do want to expand.”

  She shook her head slowly. She’d said no automatically when she thought it wasn’t an option. Was she interested if it were possible? “No. I don’t think so. I have enough on my plate at the moment. This place does great, but there’s no guarantee that going bigger would increase profits enough to justify it.” She smiled. “I’d rather stick with what I know works for me.”

  Grady smiled. “Speaking of which, is Marcos coming in tonight? The girls told me he’d been here every night that I haven’t. You’re not trying to hide him away from me, are you?”

  She made a face. “Yes, he is, and no, I’m not. It’s just the way it worked out. You’ll meet him later, and you’d better play nice.”

  Grady laughed. “You make it sound like I’m a kindergartener.”

  “That’s because you behave like one sometimes. I want the two of you to get along. No stupid macho stuff, okay?”

  He nodded obediently. “Okay. I won’t start if he doesn’t.”

  Molly shook her head at him and went to collect the order the chef had just put up. She hoped Marcos wouldn’t have a problem, but she still felt a little uneasy. That bothered her as she took the plates out. She should be able to trust him. Why didn’t she?

  She delivered the dishes to the customers and then went back to the servers’ station. Had Marcos done anything since they’d been back together that would indicate that she shouldn’t trust him? No. He hadn’t. He’d been awesome. He wanted them to get back together for real. He wanted them to live together, get married, have a family, but he was being patient. He didn’t bring those things up until she did. He’d
made clear what he wanted, and now he was going along with what she needed—which was taking their time. She smiled. He wasn’t a patient man, and this was probably harder for him than she was giving him credit for. She needed to relax—and start to trust him more.

  She looked up as the front door open. He was here. She wasn’t the only one who noticed him come in. Quite a few female heads around the room turned in his direction. He was a good-looking guy, no question about it. He stood right around six feet, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. Tonight, he was wearing old, faded blue jeans and a white shirt that made his olive skin look darker and his hair look jet back. His gorgeous brown eyes sought her out, and he smiled when he spotted her. She went to greet him, and he bent to kiss her cheek. She’d love to jump on him like she did when he came to her house. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist—and she had to admit that it was partly due to the way a blonde in the corner was looking him over like she was considering doing the same thing.

  He smiled down at her. “Am I too early?”

  “No. I’ve been looking out for you.” She checked the tables. There was nothing free in her section, but there was an empty booth in Grady’s. She took him by the hand and led him to it. “This isn’t my section, but I’ll let Grady know.”

  Marcos raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to take on another table. I can wait like everyone else. Let Grady take care of me.”

  She gave him a stern look.

  He chuckled. “Yes. I’m curious about the guy, but I promise I won’t cause any problems. If I’m going to cause extra work for you by coming in here, then I’ll have to stop, and I don’t want to do that.”

  She smiled. “I don’t want you to. And I do trust you.”

  He met her gaze, and she nodded, glad that he understood that she was making a point that was about more than him meeting Grady.

  He smiled. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

  She spotted Grady come out of the kitchen, heading their way. “I know.”