Let Me Love You

by Kristin Miller

  Did she realize what she’d said? If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d made plans to be with him again. His chest warmed at the thought. There was a chance—as small as it might’ve been—that she felt the same things he did. That she wanted what they shared to last longer than a casual fling.

  What made her push everyone away? he wondered. Why’d she so adamantly hold on to the idea that she didn’t want anything serious? He’d seen her in relationships before…

  “Can I ask you something?” he said, holding her close.

  “Sure.”

  “I remember that guy you went out with for a while after high school. What was his name?”

  “Oh, God,” she said on a heavy exhale. “Which one?”

  “The one you were dating when your parents passed away.”

  She stilled, and her breathing slowed. “Phillip.”

  “That’s right.” He snapped his fingers as the memories came back. “You guys were two peas in a pod, or at least that’s how it looked from the outside.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” she said softly.

  “Whenever my family would come to the winery for events and things, I’d hear your parents talk about how happy they were that you’d found someone so great. A treasure, they said.”

  She tapped her fingers against his leg, as if she was trying to decide where he was going with this.

  “I remember how crazy you were about him,” Joey went on, determined to peel back her intricate layers. If he could understand what happened to make Lucy push everyone away, maybe he could help her get past it and she could stay in his arms a while longer. “You were inseparable. I hardly remember seeing one of you without the other for years.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “And then your parents died, and you two broke up not long after. I’d always wanted to ask you what happened. It was almost as if you changed paths, or suddenly realized you wanted something different.”

  “There were some things Phillip didn’t understand,” she said simply. Her tone was guarded. She was trying to put up walls, but Joey was tired of hitting them and backing down.

  “Like what?” he probed.

  “Phillip was wonderful.” After a long, drawn-out sigh, Lucy started rubbing a smoke smudge off his biceps. “He was sweet and funny and got along with everyone…as long as I was at his disposal. If he called, I was there. If he needed something, I’d get it for him. I didn’t mind doing those things because I cared for him and wanted him to be happy. But when I inherited the winery, he couldn’t understand that my first priority was to my family. I had obligations he couldn’t understand. He’d ask me to come over Friday night during harvest, and I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t have a handle on it the way I do now. He couldn’t understand the pressures of the legacy my parents left behind…so I had to leave him behind. I realized then and there that I was going to live a life married to the winery. I wasn’t going to be able to be completely devoted to a partner. Ever.”

  Didn’t she realize she could have both? If she could figure out a way to balance her professional and her personal lives, she could manage the winery and experience soul-shattering love.

  Joey waited a few quiet beats before speaking up. “You loved him.”

  “I don’t know about that.” She gave up on one smudge and moved on to another. “He hit me.”

  His entire body clenched. “Excuse me?”

  “When I told him it was over, he called me a tease and backhanded me across the cheek. You wonder why I have rules…” Her lips twitched. “That’s why. I want to be up-front and clear. Always.”

  Pure rage pulsed through Joey’s veins. He’d track down Phillip and break every bone in his body. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. Any man who can do that to a woman is no man at all.”

  She coiled her foot around his leg as if she knew she had to keep him from jumping out of bed and committing murder. “I totally agree, which is why I hit him back. Uppercut to the chin.” She mocked the hit, nudging his jaw. “I never told anyone that. My best friends don’t even know. Anyway, I don’t think I loved him. If I did, I wouldn’t have been able to get over him as easily as I did.”

  There was some truth to that.

  She really did have a firm grasp on things, didn’t she? Either that or she always kept her guard up so that she never truly fell for anyone. She may’ve been the strongest person he knew, not only when it came to her work ethic, but emotionally too. Keeping her partners at arm’s length wasn’t cold; he understood that now. It was a defense mechanism, a way to maintain her independence and strength.

  All she needed was a guy who wasn’t going to try to take that from her. What he wouldn’t give to have the chance to be that guy…

  “So you let him go and haven’t stopped breaking hearts since,” Joey said, keeping his tone light.

  “Yeah. Something like that.” She giggled, and turned to stare at the ceiling. “Since you asked a question about the past, I should get one too.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She twisted, draping one of her silky smooth legs over his. “I was talking about you to one of my friends and she said—“

  “Hold up, you were talking about me?”

  She pinched him playfully in the side. “Could you focus?”

  “I’m trying.” He brushed his hand over her leg. “But you make it hard.”

  Literally. But now didn’t seem to be the time for crude jokes.

  “She said you used to fly.”

  Shit. His heartbeat faltered.

  “I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about that,” she said, “and you never bring it up.”

  Yeah, and there was a damn good reason not to.

  “Joey?” She tapped his chest. “Are you okay?”

  It wasn’t until she nudged him that he realized he hadn’t been breathing. He sucked in a deep breath and nearly choked as he remembered the news, the crash, and the scars that cut deep, beyond blood and sinew.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” He rubbed the mark beneath his jawbone as flashes of that night soared through his mind.

  “Did you get that from a flying accident?”

  “What?”

  “The scar.” She touched it. Her fingers were warm, tingling the skin. “Did you get it while flying?”

  “Yeah. I was in a crash just north of Birch at Northlands Point, and a two-inch piece of shrapnel lodged in my neck. I nearly bled out before help came.” His stomach dropped, and then hollowed out. “But it was a long time ago. I don’t fly anymore.”

  “Because of the crash?” she asked softly. “Or something else?”

  She couldn’t have known the havoc inflicted on his system from such simple questions. If those seemingly harmless words harbored any more weight, they could’ve crushed him.

  He wanted to shrink away, slip out of bed and jump into another workout to quiet his demons. But he’d just pressed Lucy, and she’d opened up about the reasons for not wanting anything long-term in the relationship department. He couldn’t hold back now.

  “Flying used to be the greatest thing in my life,” he heard himself say, though he felt so detached from the words. “I would fly every chance I got. I bought a”—he took a deep, painful breath—“Cessna Skylane. I still have it.”

  “You do?” She stared up at him. “Where do you keep it?”

  “I rent hangar space at the airport.”

  “I had no idea.”

  No, she couldn’t have, could she?

  She drew tiny designs over his chest with her finger, as if she were trying to soothe the past out of him. “Why don’t you still do it?”

  Her tactics weren’t working.

  His mouth dried, the moisture sucked right out. He might as well have been chomping on cotton balls for the last few minutes. When he opened his mouth to tell her everything, his chest tightened and his stomach somersaulted. He was going to be sick.

  “I’m going to get something to drink.” He removed his arm from around her and
leaped across the bed, dragging the sheets as he went. “Want something? We’ve got water, coffee, milk.”

  She grasped for the sheets to cover herself, but he’d pulled them to the floor. “Joey? Is everything okay?”

  “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” He turned the corner into the hall and sagged against the wall. “I just need some water. I’ll be right back.”

  He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. His world swam in and out, in and out. He forced himself to calm down and pushed the tragedy and guilt from his mind. And then, when he thought he had a grip on the situation, he returned to the bedroom. Lucy was sitting on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off the edge.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked when he crawled back onto the mattress.

  “I will be.” He settled beside her, the heat from her body radiating into his. “I’m just tired.”

  He wouldn’t tell her. Not tonight.

  He wasn’t in the mood.

  She ran her fingers through his hair and he could’ve sworn realization sparked behind her emerald eyes. But if she knew the reason he didn’t fly anymore, she wouldn’t have asked about it.

  “You don’t have to talk about it anymore,” she said softly. “And I won’t ask.”

  He nodded, a hole burning into the back of his throat. And when his insides rattled so hard he thought they might break apart, Lucy wrapped him up and squeezed him tight. She pulled him against her until the only thing he could hear was the pitter-patter of her heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Lucy opened her eyes, the air caught in her chest. She’d almost forgotten where she was. Blue Lake Fire Station. Bed in the back room. Tucked safe in Joey’s arms. She smiled and nestled against him. Kissed him on the neck and brushed her hands over the tantalizingly soft ridges of his abs. She didn’t want to leave the bed, or his side.

  Not ever.

  She’d never felt this way before, with anyone. Not even Phillip. Chills spread through her as she realized the difference. Joey wasn’t some guy she went out and had a good time with. He was different. She enjoyed his companionship and humor. She loved the fact that she could be herself around him without thinking she’d hurt his feelings—it happened more than she cared to admit. Not everyone shared her dry sense of humor. More than that, he respected her on a level she’d never known. He opened doors, offered his hand to help her out of sticky situations, complimented her and truly understood how much that meant.

  He loved her.

  She craned her neck to glance up at him. His mouth had fallen open, his jaw slack. The scar beneath his chin shone in the soft stream of light slanting through the curtain beside them. She reached up and gently brushed her fingers over the raised skin. He twitched, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.

  She squelched a giggle so she wouldn’t wake him, and that familiar warmth bloomed over her skin.

  Joey may’ve loved her, but he asked for too much, without saying a single word.

  Even if she wanted to give him everything she had—her time and love, her body and soul, the deepest and most tender parts of her heart—where did that leave room for the other, equally important things in her life? Would he understand if she had to leave in the middle of the night, week after week, to check on the harvest? He’d probably be one of those guys who’d beg her to stay in bed with him. Try to convince her to stay by teasing her with the promise of sex.

  For the first time in her life, she wanted to give him—and love—a try. If she gave him a chance, if she opened up to the possibility of having him in her life, they could have something special. Something incredible.

  Out the window beside the bed, Lucy could see that the sky had turned from pitch black to faded gray. The sun was about to rise, and she had to get to the winery. Harvest and tasting crews had been scheduled to work on the outdoor cellar, prepping for the grape stomp, all through the night so that it’d be ready first thing in the morning.

  What time was it?

  She leaned over the edge of the bed and dug through the pile of clothes she’d moved from the engine bay before falling asleep.

  Four missed calls. Two missed texts.

  Damn it. She must’ve accidently turned off her phone instead of clicking it to vibrate. Panic streaking through her, Lucy smacked her hand to her forehead as she read the first text.

  It was from Skylie at 4:00 a.m.

  Frank isn’t here. One barrel for stomping has hole in bottom, can’t find others. Need help moving. Also, u wrote full tasting menu, but scratched out. Which do u want? Thx!

  Frank had taken time off to be with his wife during the panic of the fire, but since the fire hadn’t destroyed his home, he should’ve come back to work this morning. And why was there a hole in one of the barrels?

  She scrolled through to the second text.

  Skylie again. 5:15 a.m.

  Where are u?! Things r falling apart. Call, txt, something. Getting worried.

  Lucy groaned. If she’d been at her studio, she would’ve jumped out of bed and taken care of business. She would’ve probably pulled an all-nighter until everything was perfect. She had a solid team at the winery, but she’d learned that no one ran a business like its owner.

  “I should’ve been there,” she whispered, tunneling her fingers through her hair.

  She was needed. And she was already late.

  Joey shifted beside her. She glanced over her shoulder. He seemed to be asleep, though something told Lucy he’d wake up soon. She dressed quickly and quietly, and then drove to the winery, arriving just after daybreak. Skylie rushed Lucy’s Jeep the instant she pulled into the parking lot. She was frantic and out of breath, waving her arms over her head as if there’d been a fire.

  No fire. Just lack of proper management.

  She should’ve been there.

  The crews were hard at work, even at the early hour. Zin ran circles around the workers’ ankles, barking at their heels, the same thing Lucy would’ve been doing had she shown up on time. She didn’t even bother darting to her studio to change.

  Oh yeah, she rocked the walk of shame.

  In a flurry of determination and sweat, Lucy put out the fires Skylie had been so anxious about. She made sure the food and drinks were stocked, and the barrels were arranged in the outdoor cellar. She had the assistant foreman replace the damaged barrel with another. She handled the menu, and briefed the chefs, servers, and bartenders.

  By the time she had a second to breathe, people were already trickling in. The air was cool and crisp, whipping through the yard. It wasn’t frigid enough to draw guests inside and ruin the event, thank heavens.

  Four hours later, Lucy stood against the winery’s back patio and looked around the cellar yard. Lines of people waited for their turn to stick their feet into StoneMill’s grapes and stomp their hearts out. Two people in each barrel competed to stomp the most juice out of the grapes. Screams and laughter flowed into the pristinely blue morning sky. Teams were encouraged to wear costumes, which added a crazy element Lucy loved, and when the event ended in the afternoon, she’d award prizes to the most creative costumes.

  Between the mouthwatering hors d’oeuvres, sweet wine flowing through everyone’s glasses, costumes, silent auction, and belly-shaking laughter, Lucy decided it was the best grape stomp the winery had ever had.

  Her work over the last week had paid off.

  In the last stomp race, Team Superhero edged a win over Team Hunger Games by a quarter of a gallon, and the entire outdoor cellar erupted in triumph.

  Through all the hoopla, Lucy had forgotten to text Joey to tell him the reason she left. How could she tell him how much she loved being in his arms without giving him the wrong idea? She didn’t want to stay in his bed. Not really. Not when she was needed at the winery.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” a baritone voice said from beside her.

  Joey.

  She spun, ready to leap into his arms.

  Dane.

 
She staggered back. In the light of day—without the cloak of shadow in the cavern—Lucy could clearly see the differences between Joey and his twin. Their features were exactly the same, but Joey had that tiny, fading mark beneath his jaw. Their eyes were both honey-brown, but Joey’s right eye was a bit darker and more muted than his left whereas Dane’s were the exact same. And Joey’s upper lip was a tad thinner than Dane’s, but damn he could kiss.

  “Dane,” she said, nervousness creeping in. She hadn’t seen him since he asked her out. “Good to see you. Are you having a good time?”

  Zin trotted next to Dane, sniffed him, and growled. Then he sat back on his haunches at Lucy’s side, as if he was her loyal guard.

  If the shepherd kept this up, she’d put him on her staff.

  “Best yet.” Dane held up two wineglasses, one clutched in each hand. “Janice thinks she’s the girl from Twilight. Look at her. I’ve taken enough pictures to blackmail her for years.”

  As he lifted his hand, pointing with the glass, Lucy followed his direction to the nearest barrel. Janice and Skylie were on Team Twilight. Janice had straightened her long dark hair and had rolled her jeans up to the knee. Skylie wore jeans, a nude-toned tank top, and a furry headband with wolf ears. The tip of her nose was coated with red lipstick, and little whiskers had been painted on her cheeks. They climbed into the muck and squealed as their feet sank deep.

  If only Joey were here. She’d love to see him laugh with his niece, the way he had at her birthday party. He’d looked so free then. So carefree and utterly happy. Her chest warmed.

  “You look stressed,” Dane blurted, bumping into her shoulder.

  Wow, someone needed to teach Dane how to pay a compliment.

  “I was stressed earlier this week with all the planning, but now that the stomp is in full swing, I can relax.” She bumped him back in the shoulder, harder. “How’s your store? Did you get everything fixed from the storm?”

  He groaned, sounding a lot like Joey when he got irritated, and took a hearty drink of the wine in his right hand. “Depends on who you ask. I think everything’s fine, but if you ask Joey you might hear a different story.”