“Sure but only if Cami is cooking,” Oliver agreed. “Just let me call Tabitha.”
That night, we ate dinner together like a family, and it felt right. I gave Neil and Oliver my complete attention because, for so long, I had neglected the bond we shared as brothers. I only wished my mother was here to see this extraordinary moment, but I knew she was watching over us.
“You need to bury the hatchet with Dad,” Oliver said. He turned out to be the wisest of the three of us.
I sat back in my chair and looked at him. “I know. And I want us to reconcile more than anything. But no matter what I do, I always screw things up between us.”
“You just have to talk to him, Garrett,” Oliver told me. “Make him feel like he’s a part of your life. You shut him out of the decision to enlist, and you kept that door firmly closed every time you reenlisted.”
“I’ll think about it,” I conceded.
Cami sent Neil and Oliver home with packages of fresh baked goodies and the promise to bring Tabitha and the kids to the vineyard.
That night, while Cami and I were curled up in bed, I considered Oliver’s advice. “Do you agree with Oliver?” I asked Cami. “Should I talk to my dad more?”
She shifted in bed so we faced each other and pressed her palm to my cheek. “My father was the most important person in my life. I talked to him about absolutely everything in my life. He was my best friend. Your relationship is different, but when my mom returned, weren’t you the one encouraging me to reconcile with her? To give her a chance?”
“God, I hate it when you’re logical,” I groaned.
“Take your own advice, Garrett. Extend the olive branch.”
It was getting close to harvest season, and I was going to need a small crew to help me gather the ripened fruit in the vineyard at night. It was also a magical time of year, and I wanted my family to be there. When I was younger, my father always took us out as a family to harvest the first fruit of the season. He made it special for us. No one else was out that first night, just my parents and brothers. We didn’t collect much in our plastic blue bins, but Dad always used those grapes to create special family reserve blends. I wanted to begin creating those moments with Cami.
The next afternoon, I was on a mission.
“What are you doing?” Cami’s voice startled me. I chuckled lightly because I was literally caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
“My dad has a sweet tooth,” I informed her, pulling out a few chocolate chip cookies.
“You’re going to see your dad again?”
I nodded. “You and Oliver are right. I need to start repairing that relationship too.”
“And you think chocolate chip cookies are going to help?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “They couldn’t hurt.”
She pushed me aside and pulled down a platter from a nearby cupboard. I watched as she arranged row after row of cookies, macarons, and biscotti on a tray before wrapping it in plastic wrap. She presented me the tray to me, but as I reached to grab it, she pulled it back. “I’m going with you.”
The twenty-minute drive from Sorenson Cellars to Hammond Winery was a beautiful distraction. Fall was settling in Sonoma County, and the trees were changing colors. Impressive oak trees flanked the road to Hammond Winery and extended their branches over the road to create a lush canopy. I was nervous as hell, but beside me, Cami was in awe.
My father stepped out of the production room when we arrived. He stared at us with a hard gaze as we got out of the car.
“What are you doing here?” he asked gruffly.
“Extending an olive branch,” I replied.
“I’m not interested in your olive branch, Garrett. Go home.”
“This is my home.”
“It was your home. It’s not anymore.” That stung, knocking me back a bit.
“We brought cookies,” Cami offered, holding up the platter of treats.
My father eyed her skeptically before grunting and walking away.
“I knew this was a bad idea. Let’s go,” I told Cami, turning back toward the car.
“No,” she insisted. She thrust the tray toward me and rushed after my father. “Mr. Hammond, wait!”
Surprisingly, my father stopped.
“Mr. Hammond, I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression of me,” Cami told him. “When we met last year, I should have told you exactly who I was, but I was drowning in grief. My father died last year from cancer.”
I watched the two of them talk quietly, and I could see Cami’s sweet sincerity begin to soften the hard exterior of my father. At one point, she glanced in my direction and motioned for me to come closer.
“Garrett said you had a sweet tooth,” she said, reaching out for the platter. “I happen to be a baker.”
She presented him with her gift, which he examined eagerly. “Try the macarons,” she prompted him. “I’ve been working on them.”
“Why did you come, Garrett?” my father asked before he bit into the pale green, pistachio-flavored macaron.
“It’s almost time to harvest,” I explained. “I want you all to come out and help me at Sorenson Cellars the first night, just like when we were kids.”
“I’ll think about it,” he grumbled. “Leave the cookies. I’ve got work to do.”
We were dismissed, but Cami seemed pleased that at least her baked goods were well received. When we got in the car, she asked me, “Why does harvesting take place at night?”
“It’s too hot during the day, and there are fewer bugs,” I informed her. “My dad would wake us up in the middle of the night to go and cut the clusters of grapes off the vine. I’m surprised none of us ever sliced our hands open. We were half asleep, and those knives are sharp.”
“Will you show me?” There was an eagerness in her voice, which I loved.
“We’ll go out tonight,” I promised her.
I woke Cami up around two in the morning. Her curls were wild and untamed, and she squinted in the dim light of our bedroom.
“Put this on,” I said handing her one of my Army hoodies. “It’s cold. And wear your boots.”
She followed my directions, dressing in warm layers and pulling on a pair of knee-high leather boots. We trudged out just to where a section of chardonnay grew. I handed her the sharp knife with the curved tip used to cut the clusters free from the vines.
“Be very careful with that,” I warned her. I handed her a pair of thick gloves. “Wear these too.”
There were four large blue plastic bins sitting at the edge of one row. We walked over to the first section, and I demonstrated how to hold the stem and then cut it without damaging the fruit. She watched me a few times before attempting to cut her first cluster free. When I was confident she wasn’t going to slice her hand open, I concentrated on another row. We worked hard for the next few hours, filling the four bins up twice. When one bin was filled, I carried it to a much larger container that would eventually go to the off-site production facility.
As the sun rose over the property, Cami dropped her knife and collapsed onto the ground. “Oh my god! I haven’t worked that hard in like ever!”
I laughed and dropped down next to her, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. “We barely put a dent in the harvest, baby.”
“Hire people, please,” she begged me.
“I’m working on it. Come on, we’ll go and drop this off at the production facility, and then I’ll take you all the way over to Napa to Model Bakery. They make the best English muffins. You’ll love them.”
“Carbohydrates? Count me in.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cami
Garrett had been gone for a week on a trip with Avery. Even though Garrett had started to mend his relationship with his father, he still frequently met with Avery. Several times, Avery visited Sorenson Cellars to help Garrett sort through a problem with equipment or to provide advice about planting new varietals. When they were together, I could see how much Garrett valued Avery
’s opinion, but a part of me hoped he would soon seek out his father instead. This trip was a huge deal for Garrett because potential investors were involved, and while we’d made it through harvest season with a small crew and the essentials, Sorenson Cellars needed an infusion of cash. Avery made a small investment in Sorenson Cellars, but based on Garrett’s plans, we needed more than Avery’s money and our dwindling savings to make it thrive.
The time alone, though, meant that I finally had time to FaceTime with Valerie in Paris.
“Oh my god, Cami,” she groaned, patting her stomach. “I’ve eaten so much cheese and bread since I’ve been here.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said with a laugh. “I’ve been eating my fair share of cheese too. Especially since Garrett has been gone.”
“But I walk so much! I feel like it’s justified.” She gave me a definite nod of her head, and we both burst out laughing. “Where is Garrett?”
“He went to China to meet with some investors,” I said. “He’s been working with a man named Avery Morgan.”
There was a rustling and then a crashing sound outside, and I quickly told Valerie that I would call her back. I slipped on my coat and pushed my feet into my black rain boots before grabbing a flashlight we kept near the side door. Normally, I wasn’t so jumpy, but with Garrett halfway around the world, my nerves were on high alert.
The beam of the flashlight swung around the area until it landed on a pair of large eyes glowing in the dark. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Fucking trash panda,” I muttered before stomping my foot. “Shoo!”
But the raccoon didn’t budge. In fact, it boldly scurried forward and snagged a piece of garbage in its tiny little claws. I stepped forward and stomped again. “Go away,” I hissed. “Get out of here!”
“I don’t think he gives a fuck.”
The sound of Palmer’s unexpected voice nearly sent me running. “Jesus! Palmer? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Just came to see how an old friend is doing,” he said smoothly.
“Well, I’m fine. Now you can go.” I reached for the trash cans the raccoon had knocked over and set them right, making sure the lids were closed tightly before heading for the stairs.
Palmer was quick, though, and wouldn’t let me just brush him aside. He reached out and caught my arm. “Wait a minute, Cami!”
I glanced down at my arm and his fingers wrapped around it before shooting a scowl in his direction. Palmer jerked his hand away and backed up a few steps. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I came to make amends with you and Garrett.”
“Well, you came at the wrong time because Garrett is away,” I told him.
“When will he be back?”
That was the thing; he was supposed to return home today but called yesterday to tell me his trip was going to last another two days.
“In a few days.”
“Well, I can start making amends with you first,” Palmer stated confidently.
I shook my head, trying to loosen the confusion I felt over seeing him. “How did you even know where we lived?”
“Val sent me your address. I’m working on a custom build out here and wanted to see you.”
It had been almost six months since Garrett and I had left Gig Harbor, and longer than that since I had spoken to Palmer. The bracelet with the sailboat charm he’d given me for my birthday remained in its original box at the bottom of a dresser drawer where I’d put it. “Palmer, I don’t think I’m ready for amends. You have to give me some time to think, okay?”
Palmer nodded. “Okay, I understand. Just call me when you’re ready, okay?” There was a pained look in his eye, and he started forward as if to hug me but turned away toward the driveway where his car was parked. I watched him get in, start the engine, and drive away before I retreated inside.
I busied myself cleaning up the dishes from the evening’s baking experiment and my meager dinner. Valerie was expecting me to return her call, but then I’d have to explain about seeing Palmer, and I really didn’t want to do that. Instead, I pulled out my laptop and started to search for wedding dresses. Garrett and I had hardly spoken about our wedding. He’d often talked about wanting to start a family with me, but we’d never made actual plans to marry. A date was never set. There were moments, occasionally, when I thought about a wedding. Before Garrett deployed, I asked him about wearing his dress uniform on our wedding day. That was still something I wanted; just the thought of Garrett in his full Army regalia made me squirm with delight. During my search, my eyes landed on a beautiful off-white dress with spaghetti straps and a delicate handkerchief skirt that was layers and layers of dreamy organza. It was the perfect dress, and impulsively, I ordered it.
I imagined getting married at Sorenson Cellars, with just our families present, at sunset when everything was bathed in that magical golden glow. The tasting room deck would be the perfect setting for an intimate dinner reception. All the tables would be decorated with fresh floral arrangements and candles. All I needed now was the groom.
The sound of tires crunching against the gravel shook me out of my wedding daydreams. Setting my laptop aside, I carefully made my way to the front door. Surely, Palmer wasn’t dumb enough to return.
The moment I opened the door, I came face to face with a tired but happy Garrett. Immediately, I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck and breathing in his familiar spicy scent.
“I missed you,” I murmured against his skin. “I missed you so much.”
“I traveled halfway around the world just to hold you in my arms tonight, Cami.”
Words weren’t needed beyond what had already been spoken. Garrett held me tight against his body, and his lips easily found mine, claiming them with a fierce kiss that left my knees weak. My hands grabbed at the back of Garrett’s shirt and tugged until we broke apart, and he pulled it over his head. He pulled us and his suitcase inside and then kicked the door shut before seizing my waist and dragging me to the floor of the foyer.
“That’s not what I had in mind.” Garrett chuckled before placing a soft kiss on my bare shoulder. “But that was one hell of a welcome home.”
Making love on the cold foyer floor wasn’t my plan either. “I’m so happy you’re home.” My voice was breathy and euphoric.
Garrett’s hands tangled in my hair as he stretched to place a kiss on my forehead. “What have you been doing since I’ve been gone?”
“Baking,” I admitted with a chuckle. “I’ve been working on my macarons. They’ll be perfect for the winery.”
“I can’t wait to try one. What else? I’ve missed hearing the sound of your voice.”
“Chasing away raccoons.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
We slowly made our way from the floor to the bathroom where we cleaned up. I debated whether to tell him about Palmer’s visit. I didn’t want to ruin this perfect homecoming, but I didn’t want Palmer to just show up one day and catch Garrett off guard.
“Palmer came by today,” I said after clearing my throat nervously.
“Palmer?” Garrett’s brow furrowed with confusion. “What the hell was he doing here?”
“He said something about building a house nearby.” I fidgeted with my fingers until Garrett placed his hand over mine. “And making amends.”
“Well, I hope he knows that’s not going to happen.”
“That’s pretty much what I told him.” Facing Garrett, I slid my hands up his bare chest and clasped them around his neck. “Tell me all about your trip.”
That occupied Garrett for a while. We snuggled under the covers of our large king-size bed while he told me about the Chinese investors who were willing to pay premium prices for California wine. Investing in a winery was just one way of guaranteeing they received the best deals. But there was a slight hesitation in his voice as he talked; there wasn’t excitement or eagerness.
Garrett reached up and traced the path of my frown with his index finger. “What’s wrong?”
>
“I’m worried about you,” I told him honestly.
“Worried? Why?”
“Do you really want to work with these Chinese investors?” Garrett opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand to stop him. “I want you to be honest with me, Garrett. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.”
He sighed heavily. “My dad worked hard to build Hammond Winery into what it is today. It doesn’t feel right to take money from someone who isn’t personally invested in this place. These investors are in it for the prestige. It’s just another way to show off their wealth.”
I lifted myself onto my elbow and looked down at Garrett. He looked ruggedly handsome with his unshaven face and wild hair. This place was exactly where he belonged, and I hated the thought of him losing it. “Does making a deal with these investors feel like cheating to you?”
Garrett tugged me down and into his arms. With a sigh, he said, “You know me so well, Cami. I want my dad to eventually be proud of what I’ve created here, and I know if I work with this group, that will never happen.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Garrett
I went searching for Palmer before he found me first. It irritated me that he had been here, on my property, while I wasn’t, but I’d be damned if he showed up unexpectedly again. One phone call to his mother and I knew exactly where I needed to go. He was building a custom home about an hour south of Healdsburg. When I pulled up to the jobsite, it was almost like he was expecting me.
“You couldn’t just call me, Garrett? You had to go through my mom?” Palmer approached slowly.
“I still like and respect your mother,” I answered honestly. I shut the car door and took a few steps toward him, but there was still a considerable distance between us. “What are you doing here?”
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