“It can’t be that. Sophia and Salvatore married in the late 1920s. Salvatore and Antonio went to Europe during the Second World War to collect the European cuttings. They grew fine for a couple of years before the Marcelli vines died out and Antonio accused Salvatore of destroying them. Who would wait over fifteen years for revenge? From what I’ve heard about my great-grandfather, Salvatore wasn’t the patient type. If he’d suspected something, he would have taken care of business a whole lot earlier.”
“Good point. Still, it’s very strange.” Brenna looked at him. “I wonder what would have happened if Antonio had married Sophia.”
“Neither of us would have existed.”
She sighed. “Families are so complicated. My grandfather is getting completely weird on me. Your parents walked out when you were still a kid and—” She pressed her lips together. “Sorry. I know you don’t like to talk about your folks.”
He swore. Once, years ago, he’d made the mistake of telling what had happened with his parents. He’d admitted his ambivalence. How he’d refused to miss them, yet couldn’t help wondering what would have been different if they’d stuck around. Brenna had understood. She’d held him and somehow being in her arms had eased the confusion. He’d trusted her. Not a smart move, considering what had happened later.
Silence stretched between them. Nic glanced at his watch. He was going to be late for his meeting. He should—
“Did I tell you Francesca and Katie are having a double wedding?” Brenna asked in what he guessed was an attempt to change the subject. “It’s going to be over Thanksgiving. Things should be interesting, what with Francesca being pregnant and all. At least we know she and Sam are a fertile couple. Anyway, because that’s not enough work, they’re having a double engagement party, too. It’s gotten to the point where I’m afraid to walk into the house. If everyone isn’t knee-deep in beading lace, there are tastings for various menu selections and arguments about invitations. I think they should just elope.”
“Unlikely.”
“Tell me about it. I work all day for my grandfather and then all night on my new business. I’m exhausted, which means when I bead lace for the wedding gowns everyone is making, I end up sticking myself. It’s not fun.”
“You’ll enjoy the party.”
“If I’m awake for it.”
She shoved her hands into her back pockets, which made her chest stick out. He tried not to notice.
“It’s the family stuff,” she said. “Sometimes I think it’s really twisted, but it’s a part of who I am. I can’t seem to escape it.”
“I remember.”
She winced. “Sorry.”
“No problem. I can see that very little has changed.”
Her gaze narrowed. “That’s not fair.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
It had always been true. Family was the most important thing in Brenna’s life. He would bet that wasn’t different. In fact, to prove it, if only to himself, he would conduct an experiment to see exactly how far he could push her before she snapped.
“Are you taking anyone?” he asked.
“As in a date?” She laughed. “That would require a social life, which I don’t have. Not that I’m complaining. I would rather have the beginnings of a winery than a man.”
“On behalf of my gender, thanks for the compliment.”
“You know what I mean.”
He did, but that wasn’t important. “If you’re not seeing anyone, then you could invite me.”
9
Invite Nic? Brenna blinked several times. Invite Nic? Sure. Of course. She didn’t have a date and he was available. It was the perfect solution.
Not.
Take Nic? A Giovanni? Great-grandson of the hated Salvatore Giovanni? She stared at him, unable to think of a single thing to say. He couldn’t be serious. He had to know that it was impossible. He had to remember—
She sucked in a breath. Of course he remembered and maybe that was the point. All those years ago she had been so worried about what her family would think if they knew she was involved with Nic. He’d wanted her to tell them, to declare her feelings for him. She’d wanted that, too—sort of. But she’d been afraid of what they would say. Of what would happen. The reality had terrified her.
It might have been ten years, but she could still feel that cold fear swirling in her stomach.
The humor faded from Nic’s face. “Don’t sweat it. I was kidding.”
Was he? She still didn’t know what to say. “It’s not going to be a really big party,” she blurted out. “Just family and friends.”
Oh, right. That had certainly made things all better. What? If there were going to be a lot of strangers there, she would be more comfortable inviting him?
She reached out to touch his arm. “Nic, I’m—”
“I know. Whatever.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m late for a meeting.” He jerked his head toward the grapes. “Congratulations. You picked a winner.”
He walked to his motorcycle and pulled on his helmet. Before she could think of a single rational, intelligent explanation for how she was acting, he was gone.
“That went well,” she muttered and kicked at the dirt.
What was going on here? Was Nic actually serious about going to the party with her? They weren’t seeing each other—not in the dating sense. She wasn’t sure she would even categorize their relationship as “friendship.” They had business dealings and more sexual chemistry than should be legal, but little else. She sighed. Okay, they had a past that would make a soap-opera writer jealous, but no one was talking about that.
She turned toward the road and stared at the bend where Nic had disappeared. Telling herself to forget the whole thing wasn’t going to work, mostly because she found herself wanting to take him to the party.
How strange was that? Did she think that one family social event would make up for all she’d done—or not done—in the past?
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said firmly.
She crossed to her car and pulled open the door. If she didn’t know better she would have sworn he’d been playing with her when he’d first mentioned going to the party, but something had changed. It was almost as if her inability to say yes had hurt him.
No way. Nic hurt by her? Now? Right.
Except he’d almost looked…wounded.
She slid into her car and pulled the door shut. What was going on? Were they both experiencing flashbacks? Were the blasts from the past confusing an already complicated situation?
Until she and Nic had met up again, she had believed with every fiber of her being that she was long over him. That what they’d once had didn’t matter. After close contact of the Nic kind, she knew better. There were some things that simply didn’t go away, regardless of the passage of time. Those life-altering moments lingered, and Lord knew that every second with Nic had changed her life.
Talk about a complication. If only she could forget the past, things would be a lot easier between them. Forgetting Nic would be—
Impossible, she thought. Even if it was smart, she didn’t want to. She liked that they’d been young and in love. She liked that he had been her first time. She liked remembering how his hands had trembled when he’d undressed her and how his dark eyes had promised to make everything perfect between them.
And he had. He’d been tender and caring. She could still see the expression on his face as he’d entered her. He’d been much more experienced, but he’d lost it in about thirty seconds after declaring it had never been like that for him before.
She remembered the first time he’d told her he loved her. They’d been sitting out in the vineyards on a warm summer night. The stars had bathed them with a soft, sparkly light as they’d made love on an old blanket. Afterward, Nic had pulled her to her feet. They’d both still been naked and she’d shivered a little. He’d touched her face, her shoulders, her breasts, and had kissed each of her palms. Then he’d placed her hand on his chest, right over his heart.
“I love you, Brenna,” he said, his expression intense, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I wanted to wait until the perfect moment. I’ll love you forever. With my heart, my mind, and my body.”
She’d started to cry and he’d held her. Finally she’d managed to whisper that she loved him, too. For always. At seventeen, eternity had seemed possible.
Brenna turned off the coastal road and headed back for the hacienda. She had to blink against the burning in her eyes as she recalled Nic leaving to go back to college. She’d done her best to be brave. He’d been so sensible, promising that he would love her but saying he wasn’t going to tie her down. He wanted her to enjoy her senior year of high school.
She’d known what he’d meant. She’d been free to date other guys, none of whom had interested her. How could they? She was in love with Nic.
The year had crawled by. They’d managed to steal a few hours together over Christmas, but nothing after that. He’d been working and unable to get away more. Brenna had been so afraid he wouldn’t still love her come the summer. They’d met out in the vineyards, at a prearranged time. She’d practiced acting casual in case he told her he didn’t love her anymore.
They’d taken one look at each other and they’d known. It was as if the time apart had been seconds instead of months. Looking at Nic was like falling into the sun. Their reunion had been one of her life’s perfect moments.
There had been so many. Nights and mornings. Conversations, quiet times, laughter, and even tears. There had never been anyone like him for her. Jeff had never come close.
Brenna pulled under the arch at the entrance to the Marcelli lands. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She could still see the diamond ring he’d slid onto her finger.
Marriage and children. She could have had that with Nic. She could have had it all. Brenna thought about Kelly, Francesca’s soon-to-be stepdaughter. If she’d accepted Nic’s proposal, she would have children of her own now. They would be a family. Instead she’d married Jeff.
She parked her car and slowly climbed out. Her body ached, as if she’d just fallen down a mountain. It was always that way when she allowed herself to revisit the past for too long. Regrets, what-if s, could-have-been s. They flung sharp weapons that cut her heart and burned her soul.
Ten years ago she’d made the safe and easy choice, and she’d been paying for it ever since. She’d walked away from her heart’s desire because she’d been afraid of what it would cost. Never again. That was why she’d wanted to start the winery—to prove to herself that she’d learned her lesson. Nothing was ever going to stand in the way of her dreams again.
A nice sentiment, but it had little to do with the problem at hand. Had Nic been serious about accompanying her to the party? And if so, was she going to invite him?
Maggie tore off the crust from the sandwich she hadn’t finished and tossed it to Max. The puppy caught it in midair and swallowed without chewing.
“You’re going to make him fat,” Nic warned.
“I know, but I can’t resist his big brown eyes. He’s so sweet.”
“He needs to learn table manners.”
Maggie wrinkled her nose at him. “You’re too strict. You need to lighten up.”
“What happens when Max is ninety pounds of begging dog?”
She laughed. “I guess we eat indoors and keep him out.”
Nic sipped his iced tea. “I can see I don’t want you around when he starts his obedience classes. You would never insist he behave.”