Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
She looks good in my truck. Her dark hair has been pulled over one shoulder, and she leans back, rolling her head to face me. By that grin, I’m thinking she’s not too upset with me sitting next to her. A lot has changed between us in the past few days. It’s been nice to see her this way, relaxed with the stresses of the event behind her, but the silence brings her to say, “I’m sorry. I’ve not acted myself. I’m sure you’re used to women wanting to maul you, but it’s not something I do.” She laughs under her breath. “Costa Rica and tonight aside, of course.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” I start the truck and shift into Drive. With the distraction of being behind the wheel, I confess, “I find you quite beautiful, and have tried to manufacture excuses just so I could look at you a little longer instead of leaving.”
Holding her hands on her lap, she looks forward as I pull up to the main road from the property. “We’re even then.”
A lot of life has been lived since we were last together, but it’s like no time has passed between us. The chemistry is there, and the attraction stronger than ever. I may not have definitive plans in the future, but she’s making me want to hang around a bit longer. “Where to?”
“Dover Creek Winery.”
CHAPTER 14
Cricket
“You live at the winery?” After looking both ways and glancing at me, Griffin pulls onto the main road. His eyes now stay ahead on the dark two-lane road, but his interest shines a light on me.
This isn’t the first time I’ve answered this question. I’m sure it won’t be the last, but with him, I worry my response might make him see me differently. Spoiled rich kid. Born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Entitled brat. I’ve heard it all. I was once even called a nepo-baby from inheriting a name that is known well beyond the boundaries of the county.
I never much cared since the people who knew me never held my last name against me, but I suddenly feel my heart racing, wondering if Griffin will. I don’t want that. Not after that boat ride and kiss. He was nothing but an annoying gnat in my busy life, but all it took was time for us to talk to change that. “It’s on my family’s property. They built the winery some twenty or so years ago.”
“Sounds like the kind of expansion we’ve been seeing out at Rollingwood Ranch.”
“That’s your family’s ranch?” He nods, taking a turn on the road that crossed from Greene to Dover County. We’ve not passed another car. For it only being midnight, I would think there’d be more action around these parts.
“Rollingwood is the ranch. Greene Farms is the commercial farming side, and we have the peach orchards, which were established many years ago. I think it all kind of grew from there.” Two lights in the distance look to be heading this way.
“I heard your sister’s been running it.”
“She has. Christine took over when my mom died. I . . .” I hear the long exhale and slow draw of his inhale as he steadies his breath, pulling my gaze over to him.
I still my fidgeting hands when a memory of that news returns and how it rocked the hill country. Julie Ann Greene Killed in a Car Crash. The news spread fast. It always does when something happens to one of our own in this part of central Texas. His mom was special from the stories I heard. Beloved. Generous of time and spirit to the community.
. . . I remember overhearing my mom yelling from inside my dad’s home office. I ran to find out what was happening, but stopped when my mom’s voice carried into the hallway. “You will not attend that woman’s funeral. I won’t allow it.”
“I must.” Two words. His tone was unwavering, though I sensed something broken in him.
“Then I’ll do what I must.” The spite was dripping with anger that was foreign to what I knew of my mom. Stern was more typical, but she was very good at leveling her emotions and getting her way.
“Are you threatening me, Delancy?”
“Not a threat. But I won't let your careless whims from high school bring down what we’ve built.”
“There was nothing careless about how I felt—”
“End this nonsense once and for all, Bryan. I won’t come in second to a ranch hand’s daughter in the next county over. We’re Dovers, dammit. This discussion is over.” Hearing her heels clack against the wood floor sent me running. I hid in the large niche beside the fireplace in the living room and waited for her to pass. Threats, whims, nonsense?
I’d heard my parents argue over the years. It didn’t happen all the time, but it wasn’t something new. The context of the argument was, though. That was the first time I realized there was a feud with the Greenes . . .