by Iris Morland
“Yes, it makes sense,” he replied. “You make me want to be a better man, Joy. A man who doesn’t run away. A man who does everything to right the wrongs he’s done.”
She sighed against his shoulder, feeling the autumn breeze brush against the bare skin of her neck. She inhaled the scent of leaves, and of harvest, and of Adam. She felt the warmth of his arms and the strength there, as well.
And as she closed her eyes, all she could think was: I’m home. I’m finally home.
19
J oy couldn’t help but smile as she sat outside at Sadie and Robert’s wedding reception a week before Thanksgiving. After the ceremony, which had been held overlooking the river at the vineyard, the wedding party had walked a few yards to the reception. A large tent had been set up across the green, and the fall leaves provided a fairy-tale like backdrop. Luckily, it wasn’t too cold despite it being November.
Initially, Joy hadn’t been sure she even wanted to attend Sadie’s wedding, given what had happened at Trudy’s. But Sadie herself had come to Joy’s place to apologize and invite her personally. That had been the general tenor of Joy’s return to Heron’s Landing: lots of apologies, even more meals sent as apologies, and a true attempt by the locals to get back on her good side.
It felt good, she had to admit, to have people realize they were wrong about her after all. Especially Adam. She smiled wider. He’d worked especially hard to show how sorry he was.
“What are you smiling about?” Adam sat down next to her at one of the reception’s tables, kissing her cheek. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably not. Although it’s a shame that I wasn’t consulted about the wedding party’s color scheme. Turquoise and canary yellow? Yikes.”
“This is Heron’s Landing. We like our colors bright and garish.”
She laughed. “And why is everyone barefoot? Is that a new trend in weddings that I missed?”
Adam looked at her. “Does it really matter?” he finally asked.
Wrong question. “Of course it does! I get not wanting to kill your feet in heels, but barefoot, and outside?” She made a face. “Oh well. The dresses are pretty.”
“I’m sure Sadie appreciates that you approve of the dresses.”
Joy couldn’t help laughing. She couldn’t help laughing all the time now, if she were honest. Adam did that to her, and being in a place she could finally call home. Seeing people she cared about and having them be a part of her life. It was a revelation, really. She thought she’d had that with Regina and Jeremy, but she knew now that that couldn’t compare to what she had in Heron’s Landing.
A slow ballad came on, and the couples on the dance floor began swaying back and forth. Twinkly lights had been hung overhead, giving the tent a magical kind of glow. Joy picked up her glass of wine and gazed at Adam over the rim.
“Are you looking at me because there’s something on my face, or because you want to dance?” he asked, trying not to smile.
“Try one option and find out.”
He stood, offering out his hand. “Joy McGuire,” he said in a low voice, “will you do me the honor of this dance?”
“Yes, I will.”
She took his hand, and he led her into the group of swaying people. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands on her lower back, and they gazed at each other as they moved slowly across the makeshift dance floor. The ballad was some ‘90s pop ballad that Joy hadn’t heard in years, and she mouthed the lyrics as they danced. Adam laughed, dipping her backward. But she kept lip-syncing.
“Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” He brushed a thumb across her lower back.
Wearing a dark blue, strapless dress, her bright hair in a French twist, Joy rather thought she looked like Audrey Hepburn. A delicate pearl necklace was her only jewelry; and unlike the wedding party, she wore strappy heels in a pink champagne color.
“You did tell me that, but thank you all the same.” Leaning closer to him, she added softly, “You’ll like what I’m wearing underneath it even more.”
Adam just groaned. “Can we get out of here now or would that be rude?” he muttered.
“Very rude. You’ll just have to wait.”
In revenge, he pinched her ass, and she burst out laughing.
When the dancing returned to the usual wedding kind of dances, Adam pulled Joy off the dance floor and out of the tent, taking her to a bench not far from the recently harvested vines. Ever since Joy had returned, she and Adam had worked tirelessly to book events at River’s Bend using Joy’s contacts in Chicago for assistance. They weren’t absolutely sure they wouldn’t have to sell the place, but things looked much better than they had initially.
The moon bright and shining, Joy pulled her shawl closer around her. It was finally that time of year when it got cold at night. Seeing her shiver, Adam wrapped an arm around her; she snuggled into his side.
They sat like that for a while, simply gazing out into the horizon, the moon slowly moving across the sky. They heard owls hooting, and the sounds of laughter and conversation from the tent behind them. Adam rubbed her arm.
“Joy,” he said. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Being pressed up against Adam like this had made Joy sleepy. She stifled a yawn to reply, “What?”
He shook her a little. “Don’t fall asleep on me yet.”
“I’m soooooo tired. I feel like I was the one who got married, but I didn’t. You better be quick, otherwise I’m liable to miss everything you say.”
He tipped her face up toward him. She could just make out his expression in the moonlight. “Then I’ll be quick.”
To her utter astonishment, he moved down off the bench and went down on one knee in front of her. At first her brain couldn’t compute what he was doing—she was rather tired—but then she gasped like a ninny. “Adam!” she blurted.
“Joy McGuire, love of my life, woman of my dreams, writer extraordinaire: will you marry me? I don’t deserve you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to get you to be mine anyway.”
Joy’s sleepiness disappeared completely. She stood up straight, staring at him, and her heart pounded so fast she felt a little dizzy. She clutched at the bench. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
He laughed a little, uncertainty in his voice. “Of course I’m sure.” He rifled through his pockets and pulled out a ring box; Joy could see the ring sparkle in the low light. “I bought this, didn’t I?”
“Adam. Oh my God.” And then to her surprise and his, she slid down onto the ground and threw her arms around him. He toppled backward. “Yes, did I say yes? I can’t remember if I said yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
“Thank God.” Adam wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. She laughed as he kissed her, and then he set her back on the bench and took her hand. “I hope it fits, and that you like it. I used another ring of yours for the size.”
“So that’s where my silver ring ran off to.”
“Mmmhmm.” He slipped the band onto her left ring finger. She held it up to the light, and her heart pounded even harder.
“I love you,” he added.
She stared at the diamond, and she couldn’t wait to see it in full light. Then, in a saucy voice, she replied, “For this rock? I love you, too.”
When Adam laughed, Joy knew that they only had the best things ahead of them.
GRACE GLANCED at herself in the mirror inside the bathroom of River’s Bend, and she took a deep breath. You can do this. You can do this. She touched up her lipstick one more time. She made sure she didn’t have anything in her teeth. Then she forced herself to leave and do what she came here to do.
It was Sadie and Robert’s wedding, of course, and Grace had come for that, and to support her brother at his first event at the vineyard. But she’d also made the decision to stop looking at Jaime Martínez from afar and actually make a move. Joy’s happiness with her brother had given her enough of a reason to at least try. It was worth a shot, wasn’t it?
&nbs
p; Of course, Jaime could say no. He could say she was just Adam’s little sister and go back to her parents. He was seven years older than her. Fear congealed in her stomach, and she almost chickened out. If he said no, she couldn’t avoid him in a place as small as Heron’s Landing.
Walking outside, she looked at the moon, and took another deep breath. You can do this. You can do this.
Grace wore her nicest dress, a dark green dress with a boat-neck that showed off the curve of her neck and shoulders. It was modest, but sexy in a way as well. The green set off her eyes, and her hair was braided into a complicated crown. Joy had helped her with her makeup, and if she didn’t look pretty, she at least looked grown up.
You’re not a little girl anymore, she chastised herself. You’re twenty-three years old. An adult. Start acting like it.
Grace entered the tent where Jaime had been sitting, but she didn’t see him. Had he already left? Her heart sank. She’d been looking at herself in the mirror so long that she’d missed her chance. She wanted to sink down onto the ground and cry out in frustration.
Then she heard his voice. “How did you like the trout? Aha, I thought you’d enjoy it. I knew I could convert you.” She turned her head, and she saw Jaime doing what he did best: talk about his food. She smiled. He’d cooked all of the food served at the wedding, and it had been a hit, to say the least.
Grace knew Jaime could work anywhere in the world. He was an extremely talented chef. So why stay in little Heron’s Landing and work at a place like River’s Bend? She didn’t understand it, but she didn’t want him to leave, either.
She watched as he moved about the tables, chatting and laughing. His dark hair had grown out lately, and he looked rather rakish. His dark eyes gleaming and looking handsome in his suit, Jaime had been the center of Grace’s dreams for so long she couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been in love with him. When he’d arrived in town five years ago, little Grace Danvers had looked on his handsome face and her adoration for Jaime had been cemented.
Everyone seemed to know of her feelings for him—except Jaime.
She watched as he exited the tent, and she left by a side entrance. She followed him, some yards behind, wondering where he was going. When she realized he was going to a secluded patch not far from the vineyard’s main building, her heart leapt. This was her chance.
Grace froze, her feet not moving. I can’t do this, she thought. I can’t. I can’t.
Yes, you can. You can do it.
She didn’t know where she gathered her courage, but before she knew it, she was standing in front of Jaime with her heart in her throat. When he saw her, he looked…relieved?
“Oh, Grace, it’s you. What are you doing out here?” He’d been leaning against the wall of the building, his hands in his suit pockets.
Grace fiddled with her corsage, which had scratched her wrist. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Jaime finally looked at her. “What? Did you say something?”
Raising her voice, she said, “I wanted to talk to you?”
“Oh, okay. What’s up? Is your brother annoying you again?”
She stepped closer. She could make out the small cleft in his chin, how he had stubble already, how there was a smattering of silver in his beard. He was only thirty, but she found the silver attractive. It made him seem distinguished.
She fiddled with her corsage, twisting it around.
“You look like you’re going to be sick. Do you want to sit down?” Jaime glanced around, but there was only grass to sit on. “Let’s go find a bench.”
“No, I don’t need a bench,” she blurted. He looked at her. “I mean, I don’t need to sit down. I’m all right.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I wanted…” Grace came closer. She forced her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t keep messing with her corsage. “I wanted to tell you…” The words stuck in her throat, like a thorn, and she couldn’t speak.
“Wanted to tell me what?” He peered at her, his eyebrows furrowed.
Just say it. Say it. Say it.
SAY IT!
“I like you!” She blurted the words, almost shouting them into the darkness. At his blank look, she blushed so furiously she probably looked like a tomato. “I mean, I find you attractive and have for some time.”
He didn’t say anything. Then he laughed—laughed! Grace’s face burned so hotly now she was surely on fire.
“Grace, you’re sweet. You are. But you’re my boss’s little sister. You know we couldn’t ever be a thing, right?” His voice was kind, conciliatory, like an older brother would to soothe a younger sibling.
It was, in a word, humiliating.
Tears sprang to her eyes. That was it, then, she thought glumly. He thought of her as a little sister, and not as a grown woman. She glanced down at her dress, and it suddenly seemed girlish and silly.
“Oh geez, Grace, I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.” Jaime stepped toward her, but didn’t touch her. “Please know that I care about you very much. But not like that. Thank you, though, for telling me.” He smiled a little and then chucked her on the chin. “You’ll find someone—I know you will. It just won’t be me.”
Grace almost stumbled, she wanted to run as fast as she could. She wanted to hide under a rock and never face the light of day again. But as she was about to leave, she looked at Jaime one last time. And her heart lurched.
A courage she hadn’t known she possessed filled her. The words she said next were calm, assertive. “I’m not a little girl, Jaime Martínez.”
His eyes widened a little.
She stepped closer. And then closer. “I’m not a little girl. I’m not your kid sister. I’m a woman. I might be younger than you, but this isn’t some silly infatuation. I wouldn’t have told you otherwise.” She stepped so close that only inches were between them. She breathed deeply, and she saw Jaime’s nostrils flare.
She didn’t know who this person was, this woman who talked like she was some enchantress. But when she placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding, the power of that moment thrilled her. Had he been bluffing when he’d said he wasn’t interested in her?
“Kiss me, Jaime,” she murmured. “Kiss me and tell me you feel nothing for me.”
He stared at her. She could see a pulse beat in his throat. She bunched her hand in his shirt, reveling in the warmth underneath her palm.
“Don’t do this,” he growled. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. And I want you to kiss me.”
She licked her lips. His eyes darted to that movement, and then as if surrendering to the inevitable, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers.
Then he kissed her like a man possessed.
Grace had been kissed a few times, but never like this. She’d never known this kind of kiss existed. She gripped his shoulders because her knees were about to collapse. He licked at her mouth and then murmured, “Open,” and she obeyed.
He could do whatever he wanted to her. The knowledge of that sent a shiver down her spine, and she held on tighter.
He kissed her until they gasped for air. He kissed her and swirled his tongue in her mouth, and then he kissed her jaw and kissed down the length of her neck. He inhaled. Nipped at her.
And then he shoved her away.
“We can’t,” he said. “We can’t do this. You need to leave, Grace.”
She touched her fingers to her kiss-bruised mouth. Her entire body was trembling. She couldn’t speak.
He gazed at her as if she represented the worst kind of temptation—the kind of temptation that would damn a man to hell. “We can’t do this.” He wiped his mouth, his eyes so dark Grace could barely make out the irises. “I have to go.”
As she watched Jaime stalk off into the darkness, she could only think two things:
One: Jaime kissed me.
And two: All I want is for him to kiss
me again.
TEMPT ME TENDERLY
BOOK 2
1
When Grace Danvers saw Jaime Martínez for the first time since they’d kissed, she almost fell out of a window.
Before her near defenestration, Grace had been having a fairly good day. It was lovely and warm for November, as two days prior it had been in the thirties, while now it was edging into the upper sixties by mid-morning. Grace had forced herself to go to the vineyard, River’s Bend, that morning to drop off a cell phone charger for her brother Adam, who was the vineyard’s owner. River’s Bend had just hosted its first wedding and was currently working to expand into events after it was hit with three bad years of harvest.
That wedding had also been the place Grace had thrown caution to the wind and had asked Jaime, her crush of five years, to kiss her.
She winced thinking about it, standing in the open waiting room at River’s Bend. After telling Kerry, the front desk woman and Adam’s assistant, that she was here, Grace waited for her brother to come see her, as she also needed to talk to him about attending family dinner that evening. She could go back to his office to see if he were in, but Adam’s fiancée Joy McGuire tended to lurk there, and Grace had no intention of barging in on them doing…things. Just recently engaged, the two of them had a tendency to exhibit more PDA than any sister wanted to see.
So Grace waited. She stared out one of the windows. The screens were currently gone, as Adam wanted to replace a number of them after summer had ended. She was glad of his timing, otherwise she’d be standing in a swarm of mosquitoes. Grace inhaled the fresh air, trying not to dwell on who else was here at River’s Bend right this second—like Jaime.
Jaime Martínez: River’s Bend executive chef and the most beautifully striking man in the history of the universe. Well, at least to Grace. When she’d been eighteen years old, newly arrived Jaime had let her share his umbrella when a summer storm had suddenly moved in, walking with her to her house. It was only after they’d arrived that she’d realized he’d gotten soaking wet while she’d stayed dry under his umbrella. But he’d just grinned and had said goodbye on her front porch, his dark hair plastered to his head as he had gone back out into the storm.