“Building a house,” he said casually.
“I can see that. But what are you really doing here?”
“It seems stupid, don’t you think, for friendships to end? Cami and I were friends for pretty much our entire lives. You and I served together. You were like my brother.”
“My brothers wouldn’t try to steal my girlfriend.”
“But you steal, don’t you, Garrett? You stole that pretty piece of property right out from under your father’s nose.”
My nostrils flared as buried anger swelled inside me. Palmer was pushing some serious buttons. Clearly, he wasn’t here to bury the hatchet like he’d told Cami. “You’re such a fucking liar, Palmer. You show up at my home and give Cami some bullshit line about making amends. That’s not what you want. So tell me. What do you really want?”
“Do you know whose house I’m building?” Palmer turned and indicated to the construction behind him. There was a foundation poured, and the first stages of framing were going up, but it was easy to tell that the homeowner wanted something massive. “Avery Morgan. I think you know him, don’t you?”
My jaw tightened. “Yes, I know him.”
“We struck quite the bargain for this property,” Palmer continued cryptically.
“Palmer, whatever the fuck you’re trying to say, just say it!”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I agreed to build this house in exchange for his interest in Sorenson Cellars.”
Without thinking, I surged forward and landed a blow squarely on his jaw before sending my fist right into his gut. “You son of bitch!”
I waited for him to retaliate. Instead, his hand cupped his jaw, and he shot me a satisfactory smile. “You’re so predictable, Garrett.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and pressed a few buttons before lifting it to his ear. “Hello, my name is Palmer Grayson. I’d like to report an assault.”
My father’s disapproving eyes landed on me the moment I stepped through the door and into the waiting area where he stood clutching a manila envelope with my personal belongings. He thrust the package toward me before walking out of the police station. With my head down, I followed behind him. His big, black SUV was parked nearby, and he was already in the driver’s seat, waiting for me. Silently, I slipped inside and waited for his lecture. We had slowly been working on repairing our relationship, and I wondered how far back this incident would set us.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Avery Morgan?” he asked. His voice was low and even.
“You know why,” I responded.
“Because you wanted to hurt me.” I merely nodded in response. “And now he’s fucked you over, hasn’t he?”
“He sold his interest in Sorenson Cellars to Palmer,” I mumbled.
My father chuckled. “It’s karma, Garrett. Pure and simple. You betrayed everyone around you, and now all of your choices are coming back around to bite you in the ass.”
“I know, Dad.”
“What are you going to do about it? How are you going to make it right?”
“I’ll figure something out.”
We drove in silence with my father squirming in his seat, and I knew he was itching to yell at me. To point out my failures. To tell me all the ways I’d let him down. I deserved all of it, but his silence was the worst form of punishment he could inflict upon me.
He steered the car down the long, gravel driveway and from the corner of my eye, I saw lights flicker on in the house. Shit. I hadn’t called Cami because of Palmer. My dad parked his SUV in front of the house just as Cami stepped out onto the porch. My father sighed as he turned off the ignition.
“Is this the kind of man you want to be for her?” he asked.
Behind the heavily tinted window, I stared at her. Her face was tense with worry, and she hugged her long cardigan sweater tightly around her body. “No, it isn’t,” I whispered.
I was lucky she was the first thing I saw every morning.
I was lucky she was the last thing I saw every night.
I was lucky her lips were the ones I got to kiss.
I was lucky her special smiles were only for me.
I was lucky that, out of everyone in the world, she’d picked me. She’d waited for me. And I was thankful every single day. But today, I didn’t deserve any of her kisses or smiles or love because I’d acted like an asshole. An impetuous, juvenile asshole.
Reluctantly, I pulled the handle and opened the door. Cami rushed forward and wrapped me up in her warmth.
“Oh my god, Garrett,” she breathed out. “I was so worried about you.”
With my hands on her waist, I pushed her away gently. “I’m okay,” I murmured.
“Thank you so much for going to get him, Mr. Hammond,” Cami said, brushing past me to embrace my father. I hadn’t expected him to get out of the car or for him to return Cami’s hug.
“He is my son,” my father replied gruffly. He quickly slipped out of her embrace and shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
“Do you want to come inside for a cup of coffee? Or something to eat? I just baked a fresh batch of gingerbread.”
“Cami bakes when she’s nervous or worried,” I informed him.
My father shook his head. “No, thank you. I should get going.”
“Hold on, I’ll pay you back for the bail money.” I spun on my heel, intending to grab my checkbook from my office, but my dad stopped me.
“You can just put a check in the mail. Or give it to Oliver.” My father’s dark gaze landed on Cami, and he nodded. “Have a good evening.”
We stood side by side and watched my father drive away. Cami reached for my hand, but I folded my arms across my chest. Her touch only reminded me of what I’d jeopardized today.
“Do you want to tell me what happened today? When Palmer called and told me what happened ”
“Palmer called you?” I asked, furious that he had the audacity to make such a move.
“Yes. He said the two of you had an argument, and it got pretty heated.”
“You are never, ever to talk to Palmer again!” I roared, sticking my finger in her face. She backed up away from me. Fear flashed in her eyes, and instantly, I regretted my outburst. I had only seen that look once before, and I promised myself never to make her afraid of me again. Backing off, I regained some of my composure and hurried past her into the house. I headed straight for my office but stopped in the doorway. I spun on my heel to see Cami’s fear starting to subside and anger starting to rise. I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“You’re damn right,” she shot back although I suspected that she was angry because I forbid her from talking to Palmer and not because I yelled. Her face softened as she took a step forward. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. Figure out a way to buy Palmer’s interest? Maybe I should go back to those Chinese investors.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you no matter what.” Lucky fucking bastard, I thought to myself. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll make you dinner. You’re probably starving.”
I quickly changed out of my clothes and then found Cami in the kitchen. She was plating a simple dish of pasta with vegetables, and she smiled as she set it down in front of me at the breakfast bar where we ate most of our meals.
“I still have money in my trust fund,” she said easily as if giving me her money wasn’t a big deal. “If you want it to help buy out Palmer, it’s yours.”
“I’m not taking any more of your money,” I told her firmly. “I already owe you too much.”
“We’re getting married, Garrett. I don’t expect you to pay me back. What’s mine is yours and all that.”
Marriage. A wedding. We hadn’t even discussed a date or even talked about planning a wedding in months. I knew Cami had a dress stashed away somewhere. I’m sure it was meant to be a secret, but I was home when it was delivered. For her sake, I pretended not to know what was inside.
“Garrett, I think you underestimate my investment skills.”
No, I didn’t underestimate them. I saw her bank account before we bought Sorenson Cellars, and it was insane. I could only imagine what it looked like now. Someone taught Cami the value of a dollar, and I wasn’t going to let her squander it by bailing me out.
“That money is supposed to be for your bakery,” I said. She recently started talking about possibly opening a bakery. We didn’t have long conversations, but there were occasional comments about an empty storefront we passed by or an idea for a name. A few times I found her researching the strict California laws about opening a place that sells food. She probably didn’t think I noticed these little things, but when it came to Cami, I was an expert.
“That’s never going to happen,” she replied.
“What do you mean it’s never going to happen?” Unexpectedly, I felt angry. She was giving up before she even started, and that didn’t make sense. “Are you blaming me for not opening up a bakery, Cami? I told you we didn’t have to buy this place. I had more than enough money saved for one of those smaller homes, but you insisted on buying this place. Don’t blame me for not being able to open a bakery.”
“Whoa.” She held up her hands and took a step backward. She looked at me through a narrowed gaze. “Garrett, I wasn’t blaming you at all.”
“You weren’t? That’s what it sounded like.”
Cami sighed. “What I meant was it wasn’t going to happen because we’re busy running Sorenson Cellars. Together. Besides, there’s just too much red tape for me to cut through. I’d have to find a storefront for the bakery and get the state to inspect it. It’s too much for just a little shop.”
“But that can’t be all that you want for yourself, Cami. There has to be something else that you want.”
“There is,” she said quickly and firmly.
“Then use your trust fund money for that. I made this mess, and I’ll get myself out of it.” I got up, tossed the rest of my dinner in the trash can, and placed the plate in the sink. My appetite was gone.
I started to walk out of the kitchen when Cami said something that made me stop in my tracks.
“I want to get married.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cami
“I want to get married.” That was the only thing I wanted, truly desired. I wanted to be Garrett’s wife, to give up Sorenson and claim Hammond as my name. But Garrett said nothing. He walked away.
For days, he avoided me. Garrett was finally able to secure a business loan that provided us with the money we needed to complete the production room renovation, and he was overseeing the installation of the equipment. I stayed out of his way and worked on producing new flavors of macarons. It was just a hobby I enjoyed because it allowed me to be creative. Maybe eventually I would reconsider looking for a property suitable for a bakery. But right now, I was perfectly happy being a one-woman operation.
It hurt that Garrett didn’t think I was fulfilled, that I wanted more than the life we were living.
So I kept my distance. Which meant running right into Palmer. And Nikki.
“What are you doing here?” I stopped dead in my tracks, in the middle of a sidewalk in downtown Sonoma, when I saw them. They were headed right toward me, holding hands and smiling almost like they were a couple. My stomach churned in disgust.
“Hello, Cami,” Palmer said coolly.
“What are you doing here?” I asked again, starting straight at Nikki’s surgically enhanced chest. Those are new, I thought to myself.
“I’m renting a place nearby,” Palmer answered.
“I meant her. What is she doing here?”
“Nikki’s here for the weekend. We’re together.”
“You’re disgusting,” I said as I brushed past them.
As I went from store to store, I silently berated myself for not seeing Palmer for what he really was – a selfish, spineless asshole. It was easy to miss, though, when he was deployed or stationed at a base hundreds of miles away. How did he become so awful? When? His parents were good people, so kind and loving, yet Palmer had become the exact opposite.
The day only got worse. As I stepped out from a one shop, I ran right into Avery Morgan.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I started to say until I looked up and realized whose hands were clutching my elbows. I wiggled free and stepped back. “Oh, Avery. I’m not sorry at all.”
Avery smiled easily. “And what have I done to offend you, Cami?”
“You know exactly what you did! You screwed Garrett!”
His eyes widened in surprise. “And how did I do that?”
“By selling your interest in Sorenson Cellars to Palmer.”
“That was simply business, Cami. Nothing more than a trade.”
“It wasn’t a simple trade to us. Sorenson Cellars is Garrett’s dream, and you ruined it. He’s worked so hard, overcame so much, and you just simply traded away a part of his life. Why? Because now you don’t have to pay for your house to be built?”
“That’s not what happened,” he said, finally showing some impatience.
“Then explain it to me, Avery. Tell me how it really happened.”
Avery motioned for me to follow him into a nearby coffee shop. We sat down near the window, and he asked me politely if I would like anything. I declined because the only thing I wanted was an explanation.
When Avery returned with his coffee, he leaned against the back of the chair and crossed one long leg over the other. He picked at the cardboard sleeve around his cup before clearing his throat. “You’ve got the wrong impression of me, and I’d like to clear that up.” His clear blue eyes flicked up and landed on me. “Garrett is like a son to me. I’ve known him since he was a baby. I’d do almost anything for him, but when it comes to my business, I leave my emotions and relationships at the door. Palmer approached me. Several companies bid on the job, including his. He knew who I was and offered to do the build at a significantly reduced rate in exchange for my interest in Sorenson Cellars.”
“But how did Palmer know you were invested in Sorenson Cellars? We hadn’t talked to him in almost a year. I mean, he got our address from my sister!”
“I’m very public about where I invest my money. And I was very proud to say that I had invested in Sorenson Cellars.”
I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest. “If you were so proud of investing, then why give up your interest?”
Avery shrugged. “Like I said, it was business. I got a very good deal, and I find it hard to say no when something is too good to pass up.”
“Then help me get it back,” I demanded. “I have money. Help me buy Palmer out.”
Avery shook his head and pursed his lips. “No, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because taking your money makes Garrett feel weak.”
“What?” This was news to me, and it delivered quite the punch. “Did he tell you that?”
“Not in so many words,” Avery admitted. “But he talked about making Sorenson Cellars successful enough to pay you back quite a bit. He feels indebted to you.”
“But it’s not a debt he has to repay! We’re getting married,” I said before adding, “eventually.”
“Well, he was stupid not to work with the Chinese investors I introduced him to,” Avery commented. “If he had, he wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Now I could turn the tables on Avery. “He didn’t want that either,” I said with a slight smirk. “He knew those investors only wanted the prestige of being part owners of a winery. Taking their money would have been too easy, and Garrett doesn’t do anything the easy way.”
Avery snorted. “I know. He’s just like his father. It’s so infuriating.”
I smiled. “It’s one of the things I love most about him. He’s worked hard for everything that he has.”
“Including you?�
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I nodded. “Including me.”
Avery took a long sip of his coffee before saying, “He’s just going to have to bust his ass and make Sorenson Cellars as successful as possible until he can buy out Palmer.”
Garrett didn’t have a problem busting his ass; he did it every day. His problem now was patience. He wanted everything to happen now, and when it didn’t, he became frustrated.
“I appreciate the insight, Avery, more than you know.” I stood, gathering up my shopping bags and slinging my purse across my body.
“Wait,” he said, popping up. “If I can’t help Garrett, then let me help you.”
“Me? I don’t need any help, Avery.”
“Garrett told me that you’ve been talking about opening a bakery.”
“It’s just a fantasy, Avery. I’m perfectly happy with my reality.”
He chuckled and smiled. “Are you kidding me? I’ve tasted your macarons. They’re absolutely delicious.”
“I’m glad you like them, but I’m not ready to start a business.”
“When you are, give me a call, okay? I mean it, I want to help.”
I left him with a nod and nothing else. After my argument with Garrett over wanting to open a bakery, I wasn’t entirely certain what I wanted except for Garrett. He was enough for me; more than enough really. Why was it so hard for him to see that?
It must have been a lot easier for him to see exactly what I wanted because when I arrived home, the driveway was lined with lit luminaries, and he stood at the end, looking dangerously handsome with his hair freshly trimmed and beard closely shaved. But it was the suit that did me in. It was cut perfectly for his frame, and he didn’t bother with a tie. The stark white dress shirt underneath the navy-blue jacket was opened at the collar, revealing a bit of his sculpted chest.
“You look handsome,” I said, getting out my car. He walked slowly toward me, his expression hard to read until he reached me and wrapped his hands around my waist. A slow smile spread across his lips as he pulled me close. I inhaled his spicy, clean scent and groaned. “God, you smell good too.”
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