He wouldn’t. Of this, she was certain. So she took a deep breath and trusted him.
“We’ve been struggling. Since right before my parents retired. They bought this place decades ago because of the vineyard. They wanted to grow that part of the business and eventually they did. But, because that was their passion, they let the hotel side of things drop off. Didn’t matter at first because business was good regardless. We didn’t have much competition. Then Honeywilde hit its renaissance phase.”
“And took business away.”
“A lot of business. We still book a few rooms, but not nearly enough. You guys are bigger and have the capacity. We’ve had to dip into the winery to cover costs and that’s no way to operate. It’s not sustainable. I didn’t tell your brother, or you, because I’d hoped our financial situation wouldn’t be an issue for the prom. And it won’t. Not with the plan we’ve got going. But long term, I don’t know what we’re going to do to fix things.”
“There’s enough business to go around though. Maybe your issue is visibility.”
“Maybe. Maybe it’s all too much to juggle. What if we’d be better off selling the hotel portion and focusing on the winery? Or maybe the best option is to bring a sommelier on staff, and a manager to split off the winery. Or do we hire someone to manage the hotel? I don’t know. I don’t know if my sisters and I can manage it all and sometimes…sometimes I feel like I’m going to smother under the weight.”
He nodded, never once interrupting and waiting until she finished before he angled himself toward her. “You’ve got a lot on you right now.”
She groaned and wanted to crumple again, but his hold on her kept her upright.
“But you will sort this all out over the next few months. You have your sisters to help, and you and I can bounce around ideas. This will work out in the long run.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because, I’ve been there with my family. And I’ve met the Sargent sisters. I’ve worked with you. If anyone has the resolve to sort out problems, it’s you.”
A pang twisted her heart at the vote of confidence.
“But, if I may, a thought came to me while I was talking to Laurel earlier about the slowdown in bookings.”
“I’m listening.”
“What about making Jolie pet friendly?”
Brooke scrunched her nose. “We’re already pet friendly.”
“Then you’re making my point about visibility. See, I didn’t know this place was pet friendly. I bet most folks don’t know that. Pet friendliness isn’t something you do any kind of special promotion on.”
“We list the feature on our website and print advertising.”
“Nowadays, that’s not enough. That’s what worked for your parents, but you need to think outside of traditional. Go left where they went right.”
An image came to mind of Beans, tucked in the small space between Laurel’s leg and the arm of the wingback chair. Of Trevor and his bushy brown dog, Beau, following him all around the lake. A memory of her childhood pet, a feisty little terrier mix that was the love of her life in elementary school.
People loved their dogs, and many would travel with them if given an option. Particularly a luxurious option when nine times out of ten pet friendly meant the motor inn.
“I could make some changes to our website,” Brooke said. “Highlight the pet friendliness more. Reagan could do some stuff with social media. She’s all about that. Maybe tweak our magazine and brochure ads.”
“Exactly. What about some target-market advertising?”
“Oh, like ads at pet-lover events like that wag-a-thon fundraiser for the Humane Society.”
Brooke bounced on the quilt. “And Bark in the Park. They have huge turnouts every year.”
“Now you’re thinking.”
“Honeywilde isn’t pet friendly, is it?”
“No, and I don’t think anywhere up on the mountain is, except y’all. I’ve got Beau, but he’s only allowed in the great room and our private quarters. Occasionally Roark’s office. Allowing pets is too much of an issue with the restaurant, but here you’ve got the winery separate and downstairs, closed kitchen and no full-service restaurant.”
The idea made her want to scream with glee. It was brilliant and would set Jolie apart from the competition. Between targeting pet owners and getting some PR from the prom, maybe their hotel would get a shot in the arm.
She turned to Trevor. “I love this plan. Thank you so much.”
With a flash of dimples, he shrugged. “Not a problem. These are your ideas. Sometimes you only need a second set of eyes to see something that’s already there. Feel better?”
“A lot.”
“Good, then let’s take it to the next level.” He scooted over a bit and bobbled around on his bottom until he sat up straight. Then he looked at her. “Sit up a little straighter and cross your legs like this.”
Warning bells went off in the back of her mind. He’d already said he came out here this morning for some quiet. Trevor was trying to get her to do yoga.
“I’m fine sitting here like this.”
“This will have you feeling better than fine. Come on, sit like this.”
There’d be no point in arguing and she kind of owed him enough to at least try. “Okay, I’ll sit up. But I am not going to stand on my head or do something crazy.”
“You won’t have to stand on your head. We’re going to sit here and breathe. We might stand up, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Sit and breathe. You promise?”
“Yes.” Trevor leaned over to bump playfully against her. “Now. Sit like this.”
He repositioned himself next to her, legs crossed but with both ankles loosely lying on the blanket instead of tucked under him.
Easy enough.
Brooke mimicked his posture, her eye lids drifting down.
“Good.” His voice eased over her skin, even and low. “Relax your shoulders. Back straight. Chest lifted. Breathe. Keep yourself lifted and straight. Head over your heart.”
She opened one eye. “Do what?”
Trevor glanced over and put his palm to his sternum. “If you’re sitting up, shoulders back and chest lifted, your head will be over your heart, your heart over your pelvis. Aligned.”
With only the one eye, she stared.
“Hush, and do it.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your right eye said plenty.”
“Fine.” She closed her eyes and shifted around, sitting up, nice and straight like her yogi said.
“Inhale. Slow, steady breath. And out.”
Brook sat on the floral quilt, in the middle of their side yard, breathing in and out. And somehow, in the midst of all the breathing, her mind slowed in its bounce from topic to topic. Fretting over her sisters, worrying about the hotel and their future, stressing about the prom. Instead, she found herself focused on Trevor’s voice, telling her to breathe in and out. Then she thought only of her breathing.
Her deep breaths were pitifully shallow, but she tried. “I’m not sure I’m doing this right.”
“You’re breathing. There’s no wrong way. You’re doing great. This time, arms out as you inhale.” Trevor stretched his arms in front of him, palms facing out, fingers laced. “And down as you exhale.”
Brooke followed suit.
They did that three times, and each time the tightness in her shoulders loosened a little bit.
“Right hand on your left knee,” he instructed, showing her how. “Turn your body. Not too far. It’s not a flexibility contest; you only need to feel the stretch. Keep your back straight. Head over heart, remember.”
From behind her, he put his hands on her sides, angling her into a more comfortable position. “Like that. Good. You want to keep your chest lifted. Drop
your shoulders down, don’t bunch up. There. Wonderful.”
He got into the same position next to her. “Slowly to the other side. Same thing.”
She turned, placing her left hand on her right knee, her mind fully occupied with keeping her head over her heart and breathing. They sat that way for a long moment, and she began to study the back of Trevor’s head.
The fluffy top of his hair, mussed into soft, chocolatey waves. The back and sides were clipped and well kept, his flop of hair on the top a total juxtaposition.
She’d never really noticed the difference until now.
He probably had to get his hair cut once a month to keep the back neat. His neck was tan too, from a life spent outside. A life of adventure.
How had she never noticed the beautiful color of his neck until now?
She’d noticed and appreciated plenty about him, but little things…
The little things had escaped her.
Like how his voice, when pitched low, was one of the most soothing sounds on earth. Right up there with rippling water and rain.
She needed to take the time to soak all of this in, because Trevor wouldn’t always be here with her, every day, all day. He had a life and responsibilities at Honeywilde. He had a trek to Peru to make.
He wouldn’t be hers forever.
Remaining in one place for too long would be torture for him anyway.
Why would she want him to stay when he’d made clear his love of changes, his frustrations with boredom and being tied down?
“Back to center,” he said, turning in time to catch her staring.
“Oops, sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. If the position feels good, keep going. There’s no time limit or rule, and you won’t get in trouble if you aren’t perfect.”
That was an interesting concept.
“Now. Right arm up. Inhale. Stretch up to the sky and gently over to the left.”
She did as he did. “Like this?”
“Yes. Great. You can move a little. Roll forward or back. Do what feels good. Now, let’s stretch out. Lay back. All the way down, flat on the quilt. Arms over your head.”
Brooke lay down, the stretch pulling up her ribs, a pleasurable tightness and then release of tension along her sides.
Trevor lay down beside her in a similar pose. He remained quiet, eyes closed for minute after minute.
Finally, she worked up the nerve to whisper, “Is that it? Are we done?”
He whispered back, without opening his eyes, “Yes, we’re done. Nice work. Did you like?”
“I did, actually.”
“Good. Told you yoga would make you feel even better.” He rolled over onto his stomach, placing his hands against the blanket and crawling forward. Slowly, he bent his arms and tucked his head.
“Uh…what are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m going to stand on my head.”
Brooke lifted her head and peered across the yard to ensure no one else was outside.
Trevor had both knees on his elbows, with his butt in the air.
Laughter bubbled up from inside her as she curled onto her side. “You’re going to fall.” She laughed. “Stop.”
“You’re going to make me fall. Stop giggling.”
“But you’re trying to stand on your head!”
“Not trying. Doing.” With a little wobbling, he extended one leg into the air, the other quickly following. His T-shirt drooped down, revealing the tan skin of his abdomen and a peek of his chest.
Last night, she’d slept with an arm over that chest and stomach. Solid and strong. Part of her, the portion that didn’t harbor all of her fear and uncertainty, had wanted to slide a hand under his shirt. In the middle of the night, skate fingertips across his bare skin to test the softness over the hard muscle.
He had that same lean strength in his back too. No doubt as tan.
And he’d gladly let her see it too. All of him. As a matter of fact, knowing Trevor, if she said the word, he’d do more than make out with her right here on this blanket in light of morning, on the side lawn.
Heat rushed her body, pooling between her legs.
Times like this, her attraction and desire for him far outweighed any reluctance. Or common sense. She wanted him.
What was the worst that could happen?
“Jealous?”
Not exactly the emotion she struggled with at the moment. “Of what? All the blood that’s rushing to your head?”
“It’s good for circulation. And perspective.”
She pushed her passion aside for a moment, staring at his upside-down face. “Were you always like this?”
“Like what?”
Laughter tickled her throat as she waved one hand up toward his feet. “Like this.”
“Maybe. You are jealous, aren’t you?”
“Honestly? Yes.” To have the freedom to be impulsive. To be that comfortable and at ease in her own body.
Trevor knew who he was and he was happy he had the kind of confidence that you couldn’t fake. A genuine assuredness she envied. Because even if Trevor didn’t know what he was doing, even if he didn’t have all of his bases covered, he believed everything would be okay.
That kind of thinking was foreign to her.
He lowered his legs and his bare feet back onto the blanket. “If you really are jealous, I can teach you how to do this.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Trevor leaned over and kissed her. He kept leaning and kissing until he toppled her over, rolling on the blanket until his body covered hers.
“We can’t make out with you on the front lawn,” she said between kisses.
“Boo.”
Their legs intertwined, she tried to hook an ankle over his leg and use leverage to roll them over.
Her plan didn’t work.
Trevor chuckled and, with his fingers laced with hers, pinned her hands against the blanket. “You keep wriggling around like that, we won’t be going anywhere for a long time.”
As improper as it may be, as much as she’d fuss at her sisters if it was one of them rolling around on the lawn with a guy, she didn’t want him to stop.
If Nick—or any other guy for that matter—had ever attempted to pin her down, she would’ve been annoyed. Turned off. Possibly even irate.
But the heat in Trevor’s gaze, the teasing grin upon his lips, her certainty that he’d never do this unless he knew she’d be into it, the fact that he did know, that changed everything.
Trevor wasn’t some domineering blowhard. She’d been married to one long enough to know.
Life wasn’t a competition for him, and she wasn’t something to be conquered. He baited her for their pleasure, making her feel. She wanted things from Trevor she’d never considered before. Things with Trevor that’d been written off years ago.
A mischievous grin curled his lips as he leaned back, propping his weight up with a hand on either side of her head. “Hey, I have a great idea.”
Expecting a random urge to go hike a mountain or run off somewhere to get it on, she grinned. “Shoot.”
“Come to a birthday party with me tonight.”
Chapter 22
Brooke’s mouth fell open. “A birthday party? We don’t have time. The prom is next week. We still have too much to do.”
“I’m not inviting you to a weekend-long rave. Marco, our new chef at Honeywilde, his niece is having a huge birthday party tonight. Food, music, dancing, the whole nine yards.”
She quirked her lips as she pondered his invite. Clearly this was going to take a little more convincing.
“Think of it as research for the prom. You could probably use a little help in the partying department anyway.”
She bumped her knee against him. “Excuse you, I know how to
party.”
“Then you’ll fit right in. Starts at six.”
“I didn’t say I’d go.”
They’d been working hard, and he’d been more singularly focused on this prom than anything he had in a while. “Come on. We need to get out and have some fun.”
“Last night wasn’t fun?”
Leaning in, he brushed his nose against her cheek before kissing her again. “More than fun, but this is one little party. Say you’ll go with me.”
With a sigh, Brooke smiled. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
Talking her into things took about half the effort it used to.
A blur of beige darted past his peripheral. Next thing he knew, he had a lap full of pug.
“Hey, sorry!” Laurel approached a moment later. “I know y’all are having some quality time or whatever, but Brooke, I need you. I have a guest who wants early checkout, but the software locked up or something.”
“That happens. You have to close out of the room profile and log out completely. I’ll show you.” Brooke pushed herself up from the quilt.
Trevor rose to his feet as well and began folding up the blanket he’d dragged outside. “I’m going to head away home. I need to check in with Brenda about the flowers. Can Laurel take you back to your car?”
“Of course I can.” Laurel looked back and forth between them, all smiles as she waited. Beans happily sniffed and snuffled around the grass.
Brooke bent to give him a scratch behind the ears. “Good, that will give me time to tell you about an idea Trevor and I had about boosting room sales here. I think you, in particular, are going to love it.” She gazed up at Trevor, looking entirely too beautiful for such an early morning. “I need to follow up with the caterer as well. Make sure we’re on budget.”
“I guess I’ll see you tonight then.”
He got another smile. “Yes, you will.”
As he handed over the quilt, Laurel cleared her throat and chuckled. “Um, you might want to get your shoes before you go.”
* * * *
As soon as he returned to Honeywilde, Trevor underwent microscopic inspection. Both by Beau’s nose and his sister’s astute stare.
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