Rivers Edge: A Candlewood Falls Novel (The River Winery Book 1)

by Jen Talty

  No way would she admit that he was correct with that point. She’d turned down two other offers, but for good reasons. The first one had been when her father was first diagnosed with cancer. The second time had been right after he died, and the gibberish that came out of her dad’s mouth during his final days had made no sense. That said, he kept telling her that she needed to take back what was rightfully theirs. He kept saying that The River’s Edge Winery had always been theirs.

  Well, there was no such winery that she could ever find. The closest thing was The River Winery.

  But the other strange thing her father had said the day he died had been that Weezer would understand. Oddly enough, two months later, Weezer showed up at Eliza Jane’s front door. She’d once asked Weezer about her father and grandfather’s trip to New Jersey, about that conversation. Weezer shrugged her shoulders and acted as if she hadn’t a clue. She said she only remembered the two men because they were wine lovers and constantly talked about how beautiful and different the vineyard was compared to those in the west.

  Which was true.

  “Actually, she was,” Eliza Jane lied. Her stomach churned. It wasn’t something she was comfortable doing, and she could tell by the way Malbec smirked that he didn’t believe her.

  “All right. What kind of wine do you want to make?”

  “I’d start with a heavy cabernet and nice crisp sauvignon blanc.” She lifted her finger. “Under my name. But I’d to the River name a chardonnay. I think that is sorely lacking.”

  “Oaked or unoaked.”

  “Definitely oaked,” she said with a bright smile. “And, to be honest, that’s the first thing we should do. I’ve started a formula and…” She let her words trail off. Her excitement had gotten the better of her. Thus far, she’d only shared some of this with Weezer, and it would be a year or two before it came to market—if the blend were correct. Of course, they might have to buy some grapes from other vineyards until they could grow their own.

  So many possibilities. But they had other challenges to deal with first. “But I’m getting way ahead of myself. I think the first two years, we need to deal with some rebranding of what we have already, and re-establish our reputation.”

  “It’s interesting that you so easily use the pronoun we when talking about my family’s business.” He arched a brow.

  She sucked in a deep breath and blinked. For someone who wanted to start over, he was still acting like the enemy. “I’m a part of this winery now, whether you like it or not.”

  He tilted his head. “I suppose you are, but—”

  “No. I am. There are no buts about it.” Jumping to her feet, she wobbled. She flapped her hands like a wild bird and raised one of her legs in hopes of keeping her balance. It might be unseasonably warm outside, but that river was damn cold.

  “Whoa there,” he said as he managed to get to his feet, but that did neither of them any good as he toppled over into the water, taking her with him in a big splash.

  She gasped as her skin hit the cold. Her peach sundress clung to her body—of all days not to wear a bra.

  She slapped her hands at the surface, trying to swim for the dock, but the river took her a good ten feet south.

  Malbec grasped her by the arm and tugged her to the bend in the river, helping her up onto the muddy bank. “Are you okay? You didn’t hit any rocks, did you?” He held her by her forearms and looked her over. His gaze stopped at her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her clothing that acted as a second skin at this point.

  “I’m fine.” She shrugged from his embrace and crossed her arms over her chest. Thank goodness the cottage wasn’t too far away. “You need to accept that this is your mother’s winery. Not yours. And this is her decision.” She turned on her heels and took two steps. She had half a mind to tell him all about the contract, but she’d yet to actually see it, much less sign it, and she didn’t want to make matters worse.

  He curled his fingers around her biceps and yanked her to his hard chest. “You fail to understand that this was a plan concocted by my mom to get me to return to Candlewood Falls and take my rightful place as the head of this winery. And if I decide to do that, she’ll gladly turn the reins over to me, and what I say will be the final word.” He heaved in a deep breath, pressing his body harder against hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist and licked his lips. His warm breath tickled her skin.

  She couldn’t move if she tried, but it was less because of his tight embrace and more about the way his eyes bored deep into her soul. The passion buried there spilled out into a fiery blaze that coated her wet skin like a warm towel.

  “I’ve learned that Weezer doesn’t gladly hand over control of anything to anyone. Not even the man she loves more than anything. So, I call that bullshit.”

  “Call it what you want, but my mother wants all her family back in Candlewood Falls, and she’ll sell her soul to the devil to make that happen.” He arched a brow. “You never want to underestimate Weezer. You’ll lose your shirt.”

  Eliza Jane narrowed her eyes and heaved in a sharp breath. Her lungs burned. She opened her mouth, but no words formed. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He was right. Her fate hung in the wind and could be blown in any direction at any time. She felt confident that Weezer wanted her at the winery, but she wasn’t entirely sure of Weezer’s motives and that scared Eliza Jane.

  “My mother won’t go back on her word,” Malbec said softly. His lips were way too close for comfort—plump and looking way too kissable. Too bad his personality tended to turn sour quickly. “She’ll keep you on for as long as she has control.”

  “And what about you?”

  If Malbec decided to come back before Eliza Jane could sign any contracts, things could drastically change for her, and she couldn’t have that.

  Nor could she afford to allow herself this flirtation.

  He tilted his head and leaned a little closer. “I haven’t decided yet.” He brushed his lips gently over her mouth. It was soft and tender, and she reluctantly relaxed into his embrace. “It will all depend on the quality of your work and if I believe you add value to The River Winery.”

  She pressed her hand against the center of his chest and took a step back. Stiffening her spine and squaring her shoulders, she regained her composure. “I add a hell of a lot more worth than you do.” She spun a hundred and eighty degrees and made a beeline for the cottage.

  Malbec made her crazy. He was constantly picking fights with her and making her question her job security. She wanted him to leave Candlewood Falls and go back to Napa Valley.

  But at the same time, she wanted him to stay. Part of her wanted to get to know the real Malbec because this brooding, moody man wasn’t the person she saw hiding behind his kind and caring blue eyes. Inside his soul was a man with passion and vision. One that made her feel alive any time he touched her. And, deep down, she knew he wanted to come back. It frustrated her that she wanted to find out what held him back. To know what he was afraid of. It wasn’t her business.

  However, what was worse was her undeniable attraction to Malbec. Since the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. But that was just his looks. Those meant nothing. She could see behind the handsome smile and sexy body to the tender man beneath, and she wanted to get to know him on all levels.

  “Eliza Jane! Wait,” Malbec called.

  She didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. “I need to change for work,” she yelled as she turned the corner to the front of the cottage. “Besides, we’re done talking.” She stepped inside and slammed the door, leaning against it and closing her eyes. All she needed was for Malbec to go back to Napa Valley.

  That would solve all her problems.

  Or would it? Because she had to admit that despite how much he frustrated her, he also made her feel alive in unexpected ways.

  Malbec

  “Fuck,” Malbec mumbled. His baby sister had been partially right. At l
east, in this situation. He hadn’t a clue how to relate to Eliza Jane because she had him all twisted up like a teenage boy with his first crush. He didn’t know which end was up, and he was acting like a damn fool.

  One second, he was being nice and kind.

  And the next, he was acting like a jerk and trying to kiss her.

  What a damn moron.

  “Eliza Jane.” He knocked on the door. “Let me in, please.”

  “I told you. I need to get changed for work.”

  He shoved his hands into his wet pockets, fingering his keys. No. That would be rude. Not to mention aggressive. And it could be considered breaking and entering since she was renting, and he wasn’t the owner. “I want to apologize.”

  “Accepted.”

  He let out a long breath. “Can I at least borrow a towel to dry myself off a little? I believe I have a drawer of clothes from the last time I came home—”

  “Fine.” She yanked open the door. “But you’re going to have to wait until after I change.” She stomped off toward the dresser.

  She opened a few drawers before rounding the corner into the bathroom. She shut the door harshly. The pictures on the wall rattled. He stood on the mat in the front of the cottage, dripping all over the place. The air-conditioning made him shiver.

  For the first time in his adult life, he really had no clue what he wanted. Going back to Napa Valley seemed like something he wanted to put off. All of a sudden, his job felt less fulfilling. No. It wasn’t the making of the wine because he loved every second of that. He enjoyed being out in the rolling hills and watching as the grapes ripened.

  But he hadn’t realized until this moment that he craved more. He needed to be challenged, and his career had become more of a gentle ride. Which wasn’t necessarily bad. However, coming home, he’d realized that maybe some of what people had been saying about him was true.

  He wasn’t his mother, and the idea that he couldn’t fill her shoes terrified him. He’d thought that if he went out into the world and proved himself, coming home would be easy.

  However, the more he stayed away, the harder moving back became, until he decided it wasn’t an option.

  Of course, there was also the stupid secret that his grandfather had made such a big deal about. He couldn’t imagine what on Earth had his mother willing to put her family’s life’s work on the line, especially if it was something that went back generations. It made no sense.

  Only, he suspected that all of their family’s problems, including his parents’ divorce, stemmed from whatever his grandfather had told his mom in private.

  And then there was the sexy-ass woman in the bathroom. She scrambled his mind more than anything. He couldn’t stand that the more Eliza Jane pushed, the more he wanted her. It wasn’t normal. They acted like oil and water. If anyone listened in on their conversations, they would totally believe they disliked each other.

  Maybe she couldn’t stand him, but he found her utterly fascinating. She was witty, intelligent, and well-spoken. Well, that was until she got her tail feathers all ruffled.

  Hell, he kind of liked that.

  Shit. There really was something wrong with him. Maybe he should ask one of his sisters—though definitely not Zinfandel—for advice on women. Maybe Chablis or Riesling. They were much more refined and didn’t think putting a vibrator on full blast in a bag and sending it through security only to watch the TSA person grab it while searching was funny.

  Okay. So maybe it was sort of hysterical, but still. Taking direction about how to get Eliza Jane to warm up to him from a twenty-two-year-old wasn’t a good idea. But the real question was, why did he need to get close to Eliza Jane? Was it because he let his baby sister push his buttons? Or because he wanted to know if she was good for the winery and he could leave, knowing it would be well taken care of? Or was it something else?

  It was that last question that left him feeling totally out of his comfort zone. For his entire adult life, he’d been in charge of his destiny. He’d had a plan and executed it.

  Eliza Jane put a big ol’ wrench in that well-thought-out road to what he imagined was success.

  Selling the winery was still very much on the table, depending on what his mother’s real plans for the future were. Bringing in a stranger was one thing, but what about when his mother was actually too old to make decisions? If Malbec didn’t come home, they’d still be left with having to sell.

  The bathroom door flung open, and Eliza Jane stepped out wearing a pair of capri jeans and a light blue shirt. “The bathroom is all yours. The clothes you left are in the trunk over there.” She pointed to some storage bins stacked in the corner. “Your mom was going to pick them up this week and take them to her place.”

  “I see.” He strolled across the room. His mom had really meant business when she’d brought Eliza Jane to the winery. “Thanks.” He snagged some shorts and a long-sleeved shirt. “Would you mind locking up after I leave?”

  “Please, don’t go.” He held open the bathroom door and caught her gaze. “We need to find some common ground here.”

  “Why?”

  He raked a hand through his wet hair. “Because this is my family’s business, and my mom doesn’t want to sell it to a big corporation. She wants me home. And, maybe this is where I belong.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Eliza Jane planted her hands on her hips. “You’re that threatened by me?”

  “No. It has nothing to do with that,” he said as calmly as he could.

  “Well, it certainly feels that way, and you have to realize that this decision doesn’t bode well for me.”

  “Me coming back is better than us selling and new management having no use for you or your line at all, so let’s look at the brighter side of things.”

  “Come on. You’ve made it clear how you feel about my presence here. Something about evaluating my worth.”

  “Okay. So bad choice of words.”

  “Get real. This place isn’t big enough for your ego, much less both of ours.”

  He tossed his head back and laughed. “I’m not that conceited.”

  “Oh, yes, you are.”

  “Okay. If we’re pointing out shortcomings, you’re more stubborn than ten of my mom.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not going to argue,” she said. “Why did you change your mind all of a sudden? If I don’t threaten you, there has to be a reason. What is it?”

  Wow. She certainly knew how to pivot a conversation quickly. He rubbed his neck, feeling as though she’d just given him whiplash. He cleared his throat. “Let me get out of these wet clothes and we can take a stroll toward the main building. I’ll tell you why I’m considering having a hand in running the winery and what that might look like.”

  “Fine,” she said. “You have from here to the gift shop to explain yourself.”

  “Perfect.” He stepped into the bathroom and shed his wet clothes. He wished he had a fully formed answered. Right now, all he had were a couple of strange feelings that he didn’t quite understand, and a few points laid out by his siblings.

  That wasn’t good enough.

  And how did he anticipate approaching his employer on how he’d do both? That would be interesting.

  He needed a plan. And a good one. Not just something he told Eliza Jane to calm her nerves so they could work together for the next week as he figured it all out. A real, bona fide proposal for the future of The River Winery and both their roles.

  That was if he decided that selling wasn’t the best plan.

  Shit. His stomach twisted into a million knots. He had no idea what was best, except that he knew, without a doubt, that he couldn’t leave without hearing every single idea Eliza Jane had, and giving all of this more than a good mulling over.

  He had to come up with something that made sense now, or he’d blow any chance he had to earn her trust. And he knew he needed it because his mother wasn’t going to let her go, and Eliza Jane wanted to stay. If he had any
chance of having the best of both worlds, Eliza Jane had to continue on.

  But he also needed his siblings. The winery should have a next generation. They had to agree that they would step up. If they weren’t all in, there was no point.

  He hiked up his shorts and pulled the shirt over his head. He decided to leave his wet pieces of fabric hanging in the shower. She could return them later, or he’d come and pick them up tomorrow. He stepped into the main room where she stood with a couple of mugs of coffee.

  “I thought you might be a little chilled.”

  “I am, but I need the caffeine more.” He took the much-needed jolt and headed toward the front door where he opened it and let her walk through first. He twisted the lock and closed it. “Hey, slow down. I need to talk to you, and you’re not giving me a fair shake.”

  She let out a long sigh. “I don’t trust you,” she blurted out. “Ever since you got here, things have been weird for me. All I want to do is turn this place around and make really good wine.”

  “That’s all I want to do, too.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks and glared. “No. You came here to sell this place to some big corporation—who will do a great job, I’m sure. But they won’t have much use for me or my old-fashioned ways. Nor will they let me have a line. They will change everything about The River Winery. They might even change the name. I get that I just got here, and there is no reason for you or anyone, including Weezer, to give a shit about me, but I can’t believe you’re just going to let four generations disappear into obscurity. And, trust me, your family history will disappear into the walls. In five to ten years, no one will even know who Weezer River was.”

  “That’s impossible. Especially in this town.”

  “You think that’s true. But, eventually, people will stop talking about her and the River family because whoever buys the vineyard will rewrite the narrative. And don’t you dare tell me it will be different. The vineyard you work for is grappling with that right now. That family is being written right out of their own history.”