Let It Breathe (20 page)

“Good. That’s good.”

It wasn’t. Not in Clay’s opinion.

But he politely refrained from saying so.

Reese’s mood was as gray as the Willamette Valley sky on the car ride back from the meeting with the bank. With her mother behind the wheel, Reese’s mind could drift like an untethered buoy.

June sighed. “That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”

Reese looked at her mother. “They might as well have locked the front doors when they saw us coming.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Not that bad? The bank manager laughed at us.
Hard
. Did you miss the part where he choked on his danish?”

June frowned and steered the car back toward Dundee. “We’ll come up with something, sweetie. Just because this bank won’t loan us more money for the construction doesn’t mean—”

“You heard what he said. No bank is going to loan us money with a fire under investigation and a budget so rubbery it could work as a prophylactic.”

“That reminds me, Axl asked us to stop at the drugstore for a box of those ribbed condoms.”

“Can it wait? I’d really like to get back and start crunching some numbers.”

June nodded and kept the car pointed forward. “Maybe we could scale back on some aspects of the construction. We just got started, so we could go for smaller square footage or do away with some of the custom woodwork or—”

“That costs money, too. We’d have to have new plans drawn up, new blueprints, new permits—not to mention the fact that
Wine Spectator
just ran that article with the sketches that show our current plans.”

“Right, right.”

Reese closed her eyes and slouched lower in her seat. “We’ve made the whole damn thing so public.”

June sighed again. “Let’s just sleep on it, honey. Maybe something will come to us.”

“Sleep. That sounds nice. I didn’t get much last night.”

“Right, the fire.”

“The fire, the drama with Larissa—” Reese trailed off, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks. There was more than one reason for her sleepless night. One of those reasons had made her mindless with his hands stroking her hips, his mouth on her breasts, his body pressing against her, hot and hard and—

“Something on your mind, sweetie?” her mom asked.

Reese opened her eyes and bit her lip. “Just thinking about Larissa.”

Which was true, in a way. Is that what Clay had been thinking about last night? In bed with Reese, had Clay been comparing her to her cousin? Remembering his night with Larissa?

“You think ’Riss is in trouble?” her mother asked. “She does go out a lot. I don’t remember you being like that at her age.”

“I wasn’t,” Reese said. “I don’t know if she’s in trouble, honestly. She’s always been wild, but I thought she might have settled down by now.”

“Maybe Clay could talk to her,” June suggested. “He’s been down that road, after all. The binge drinking, the irresponsible behavior. Maybe it would help Larissa to talk with someone who’s learned the hard lessons.”

“Hard lessons,” Reese muttered, her mind wheeling down a dangerous path. “I’m sure Clay would be happy to talk to Larissa about hard lessons.”

June glanced over with a worried look, and Reese realized her voice had taken on a dark tone. She softened it and tried again. “I’ll mention it to him the next time I see him.”

June nodded and glued her eyes back to the road. “How did your date with the veterinarian go last night?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“He’s a nice man?”

Reese shrugged. “He’s very nice. Held the door for me, laughed at my jokes, helped subdue Grandpa’s jealous girlfriend, and picked up my drunk cousin at the police station. Typical first-date stuff.”

June smiled. “How about fireworks? Chemistry? That wonderful spark between two people who are just made for each other?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

Yes, you do
,
chided the voice in her head.

Shut up.

“What’s that, dear?” June asked.

Reese bit her lip. “Nothing.”

They were both quiet a moment, the sound of wet pavement sloshing beneath the tires. Reese stared past the trees and rolling green hills and tried not to think about Clay.

She’d really thought there might be something there, which was stupid. He was the worst possible match for her. A recovering alcoholic who was best friends with her ex and fuck buddies with her cousin?

But still, she’d felt something between them. She always had. Something that hadn’t been there with Eric, or with any other man she’d dated in the last decade.

Her parents talked about being soul mates. It was a stupid concept, one Reese refused to believe in. Relationships were about hard work and solid friendship and the ability to be patient with the other person’s shortcomings, and even then, there were no guarantees. There was no magical formula, no woo-woo chemistry that kept two people together. Some people just had the ability to make relationships work, and some people didn’t.

Reese sure as hell didn’t. It was as simple as that.

Still. Maybe she was missing something. Wouldn’t be the first time. She glanced over at her mother, then down at her mom’s wedding ring.

I call dibs . . .

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

Reese turned and looked out the window, not sure what the hell she wanted to ask.
Am I doomed to fail at love? Can people ever really change? Can you screw up love the first time and still get it right someday?

She cleared her throat. “Do you have any Popsicles at the house?”

June stayed quiet, so quiet Reese turned to look at her. Her mother’s eyes watched the road, but she wore a peculiar expression as she stared straight ahead at the rain-slick road.

“Popsicles?” June asked. “That’s what you want?”

Reese nodded, hating that she was too chicken to ask for advice or wisdom or anything more substantive than comfort food.

“Or cookies or donuts. I can pick some up at the store later,” Reese said. “I just thought—”

“No, I think I have some. Want to come down to the house now and sit on the porch and talk for a little bit?”

Reese hesitated. “I’d better finish up some things in the office.”

“I’ll drop you at the winery barn, then.”

“Thanks for driving.”

“No problem, honey.”

June wheeled the car into the circular drive, her tires spitting up bits of gravel. She turned and smiled at Reese. “You sure there’s nothing you want to talk about, sweetie?”

Reese gripped the door handle and nodded. “Thanks, I’m good.”

“You want to come over for dinner later?”

Reese shook her head. “I may stop by for a snack, but I’m pretty beat. Thanks for the offer. I’ll probably just turn in early.”

“You did great in there today.”

Reese laughed and popped the door open. “For all the good it did. Thanks, you weren’t so bad yourself.”

“We’ll figure something out, honey. Try not to worry.”

Reese eased herself out of the car and patted the roof. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

Reese shut the door and watched as her mom cranked the car around and headed the few hundred yards down the hill to their house. With a sigh, Reese turned and trudged into the winery. She forced herself not to look over at the construction site, though she could see from the corner of her eye that the heavy equipment was parked and the crews had gone home for the day. No sign of Clay, not that she was looking for him. She didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved that he’d left.

She pushed her way through the winery door, breathing in the comforting scent of fermenting grapes and French oak. She glanced around the cavernous space, noticing the racks of wine barrels missing from the west side of the building. Eric and his crew had been busy moving everything down to the other cellar.

She looked over at the coat rack, at the empty, upturned barrel where Eric usually left his lunch pail. The coat and the lunch box were gone, and Reese felt relieved. She had the place to herself.

She threw open her office door and felt a sinking in the pit of her gut.

“Reese. I’ve been waiting for you.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Reese offered a weak smile as she took in the view of Larissa parked in her desk chair. She wore a short skirt that showed off her legs and sent an inexplicable surge of fury through Reese. She hated herself for imagining those legs wrapped around Clay’s waist, and hated herself even more for caring.

But Larissa smiled, and Reese couldn’t bring herself to hate her cousin. Truth be told, she was actually the most welcome sight among her visitors.

“Axl, Sheila, Larissa,” Reese said, her voice tinny with false cheer. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We wanted to hear how things went with the bank,” Larissa said. “Did you get the money?”

Reese sighed and shook her head. “Long story. The short answer is no.”

“Motherfucker,” Axl spat.

“Pretty much,” Reese agreed and leaned against the wall. “Look, I’d love to stay and talk, but I’ve got to go feed all the animals.”

“I fed them all an hour ago—even that little opossum—so you could stay and talk,” Larissa said. “Come on, we need details.”

“Thank you.” Reese sighed. “Do we have a bottle of Pinot open?”

Larissa stood up and headed for the wine bar. “Nothing open, but let me grab a bottle from the ’09 Emerald block. We’ve got a lot of that left.”

As Larissa scurried from the room, Sheila gave Reese a sympathetic smile. “I dropped by to pick Eric up, but he’s still finishing up down at the other cellar. Larissa told me you were with the bank people, so I thought I’d stick around and offer moral support.”

“Thanks,” Reese said. “I suppose I need it.”

“So no luck with the bank fucks?” Axl asked.

“No fuck with the—” Reese closed her eyes. “No luck with the bank fucks.”

Sheila shook her head. “A friend of mine manages a credit union over in McMinnville. If you want, I could try talking to her, see if there’s anything they can do.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think there’s much use,” Reese said. “Word got around fast about the fire, and we’re already mortgaged to the hilt. I don’t think bank loans are the answer.”

“Larissa always goes to those sales pitches with those little-bitty skirts and low-cut blouses,” Axl said. “Seems to work with the wine reps. Maybe we should send her in to talk to investors or bankers or something?”

“Sure,” Larissa chirped, breezing back into the room with a bottle of Pinot under one arm and the stems of four wineglasses wedged between her fingers. “I’m always happy to show a little skin for the sake of the business. Who am I flashing?”

“No one!” Reese snapped. “We don’t need you flashing anyone.” Wincing at the waspishness in her voice, she softened it and tried again. “I don’t think cleavage is the answer here.”

“Depends on the question,” Larissa said as she held out the wineglasses for Sheila to take. “Anyone know where all the corkscrews are? I can’t find a single one.”

“They’re not in the drawer?”

“Nope. The drawer is empty.”

Reese sighed. “What the hell kind of winery can’t open a bottle of wine?”

“Gimme that,” Axl said, snatching the bottle from Reese. “I’ll just shove it in.”

“A phrase no granddaughter ever wants to hear from her grandpa,” Reese muttered.

“You’re lucky I’ve got my hands full or I’d smack you upside the head right now,” Axl said as he used his teeth to peel the foil off the top of the bottle before shoving the cork in with his thumb. Wine splashed down the neck and bits of cork floated inside, but it got the job done.

“There,” Axl said, thunking the bottle on the desk. “All done. Someone pour.”

Sheila lined up the glasses and took the bottle from Axl. “So what’s your next course of action?” she asked. “If sex appeal isn’t the answer, what is?”

Axl snatched a glass. “You want I should rough somebody up?”

“No,” Reese said. “No violence, no cleavage.”

“You’re really not leaving us a lot of options, hon,” Sheila said. “I guess there’s always bribery or bank robbery.”

“I’m in,” Axl volunteered.

“No illegal activity,” Reese interrupted. “We’ll come up with something, but I don’t think we’re on the right track here.”

Larissa shook her head and began pouring wine into the glasses. “How about your new boyfriend, Reese? He’s loaded, isn’t he? Maybe he’ll loan us the money.”

Reese froze. “Boyfriend?”

Larissa grinned, not meeting Reese’s eye as she began to pour the wine. “The veterinarian? Aren’t you two dating?”

“Right,” Reese said, regrouping. “I hardly think one date that involved picking my cousin up at the police station is grounds for requesting a six-figure loan.”

Axl shrugged. “Maybe if Larissa showed him a little leg—”

“Enough with the sexy talk about Larissa!” The second the words were out of her mouth, Reese regretted them.

Everyone was looking at her oddly, so Reese took a shaky breath and tried again. “I’m sorry, ’Riss. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right.” Larissa squeezed her hand. “Now’s not the time to joke about it.”

“I just don’t know what the hell to do,” Reese said, letting her head fall into her hands. “We can’t get a loan, our construction project is screwed, our wine club hates us, the media is starting to figure out we’re hacks, and our winery barn has a giant fucking hole in it.”

“Maybe it’s a sign, hon,” Sheila said, touching her arm. “Maybe you’ve taken on too much.”

Reese shook her head, but couldn’t think of a snappy retort. She was just too damn tired. Sheila patted her hand and took a sip of wine. “Let’s talk about something else. I want to hear about the boyfriend! Eric said you were seeing someone, Reese, but I didn’t know it was serious.”

“It’s not serious,” Reese said. “I’ve seen him exactly two times. The first time he stuck a thermometer up Leon’s ass, and the second he took me to the police station to get my drunk cousin.”

Larissa grinned. “Romantic.”

“So you’re bonding,” Sheila said brightly.

Axl looked up from his wine. “Bondage?”

Reese sighed and stuck her nose in her Pinot glass. “I don’t know where things are headed. It’s complicated. And it’s early. Let’s talk about wine instead.”

Sheila rolled her eyes. “Why would we talk about anything else?”

Reese shrugged. “You’re in a winery. You married the winemaker. Our topics for conversation are a bit limited. Does Eric think we can save most of the stuff that was in the barn when the fire started?”

Larissa nodded. “The Sauvignon Blanc wasn’t as bad as he thought but still not worth putting our label on. We can maybe wholesale it.”

“For less money,” Reese muttered.

“Not as bad as it could’ve been,” Larissa pointed out. “We got lucky.”

Axl grinned at Reese, but she cut him off before he could make a crack about getting lucky. “That reminds me, Axl, I saw your girlfriend at the First Friday Art Walk last night. Francie? She seems to be under the impression that you’re in the hospital.”

“Aw, fuck. What’d you tell her?”

“That my grandpa is a skanky man-whore. Not something every granddaughter gets the chance to say.”

“Beats sitting around a nursing home playing pinochle,” Larissa said. “Who’s the other woman?”

Axl grinned, unperturbed by the insult or the prospect of having to make excuses with his girlfriend. “A stripper I met at Stars the other night. She gave me a free lap dance and I told her about my Harley.”

Reese took another sip of wine. “That’s a sweet story, Axl. Remind me to save it for the grandkids.”

“Mmmph,” Axl said. He sipped his own wine for a moment, eyeing Reese over the rim of the glass. “You’re really shook up about this loan thing, aren’t you?”

Reese looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve put everything we’ve got into this construction project,” she said. “If we can’t get the money, it’s not just a matter of losing ground on the construction. It’s not even about our reputation with the wine club and the rest of the public. Do you know how many special events we’ve got on the books for the pavilion?”

Larissa bit her lip. “Now’s probably not the time to tell you we had another wedding party cancel this morning.”

Reese closed her eyes, but all she saw were dollar signs swimming over the backs of her eyelids. “It’s like we’re taking handfuls of hundred dollar bills and flushing them down the toilet. We can’t host any of the things we’ve booked if we don’t have the pavilion done.”

Axl nodded. He started to lift his wineglass, then stopped. “Let me see if I can come up with a plan, Peanut Butter Cup.”

“Axl,” Reese said, shaking her head. “I don’t want anything illegal tied to the vineyard. Really, we can just—”

“It’s not illegal!” Axl insisted. “Not much, anyway.”

“Illegal?” Sheila asked. “What are we talking about here?”

“Long story,” Reese said. “Suffice it to say, Axl is either growing perfectly legal medical marijuana or perfectly illegal street-worthy weed.”

“Recreational pot is legal in Oregon!” Axl insisted.

“Not in quantities large enough to bail like hay,” Reese retorted.

“Where?” Sheila asked, mystified. “Not here?”

Reese sighed. “Out in the pole barn. Axl says it’s all on the up-and-up. The jury’s still out on that. I just don’t want things to get out of hand.”

“Because things never get out of hand in this family,” Larissa added.

Reese rolled her eyes and looked at Sheila. “We’re trying to keep it kind of quiet.”

“Mum’s the word,” Sheila said. “My aunt had cancer a few years ago. She was living in Idaho, so of course medical marijuana isn’t legal there. She ended up having to get my teenage nephew to hook her up when the pain got really bad.”

“See, Reese?” Larissa said. “It’s a charitable thing. Axl is just acting out of the kindness of his heart.”

Reese glanced over at Axl, who had taken out a switchblade and was using it to trim his fingernails. He sliced off one nail, which went flying and landed in Sheila’s wineglass.

Reese shook her head and reached for the bottle. “That’s Axl,” she said. “A regular Pope Francis.”

Clay was at the carwash cleaning vineyard mud off the floor mats of his truck when he found the shoe under his seat.

He held it up, examining it. An impossibly high stiletto with silver sequins across the toes.

“Larissa,” he muttered.

The old guy parked beside him frowned under the brim of a filthy baseball cap. “You one of those fellas who likes dressing up in lady clothes?”

Clay dropped the shoe on his seat. “No, sir.”

“Because there’s a bunch of us that get together every Friday night over in McMinnville. You look like you’d be about a size twelve, right?”

“Um—”

“Gary’s been looking for someone to trade with.”

“Right,” Clay said, clearing his throat. “Thank you for the invite, but I’m okay. Have a nice evening.”

Clay shoved his floor mats back into place and got into the truck. He sat there for a minute studying the shoe. Larissa must have dropped it last night when he’d driven her home. He had no idea where she lived now, but he knew where Reese lived.

Don’t be an idiot
, he told himself.
She doesn’t want to see you right now. Especially not with her cousin’s shoe.

But he already had the truck in gear, pointed back toward the vineyard. He second-guessed himself the whole way there, but he didn’t turn around.

Not even when he spotted the blue Subaru in the driveway. He tried to remember if it looked familiar, but there had been so many of them cycling through for wine tastings the last few days. All cars were starting to look the same.

He killed the engine, picked up the shoe, and got out of the truck. Before he could even knock, Reese opened the door.

Her face was flushed, and she studied him with mild alarm.

“Clay,” she said.

He looked at her and lost his breath. She was wearing some sort of thin, sleeveless top and stretchy pants that were either for sleeping or exercising. Her feet were bare, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Before he could even kick himself for ogling her, a male voice called out behind her.

“Everything okay, Reese?”

Reese opened her mouth to speak as Dr. Wally approached and rested a hand on her shoulder. He smiled at Clay. “Hey, there. Good to see you again.”

It wasn’t good to see Dr. Wally. Not at all, especially not at Reese’s house, but Clay didn’t say so. Instead, he nodded at them both.

“Good evening.”

Reese bit her lip and glanced at Wally, then back at Clay. The message was clear. Now wasn’t the time to mention what had happened last night.

“What brings you here, Clay?” she asked.

He held up the shoe. “I brought this,” he said lamely.

Dr. Wally gave a good-natured laugh. “I think you’ve got the wrong house. Cinderella lives two blocks that way.”

Reese offered a stiff smile and reached out to take the shoe. “That’s Larissa’s.”

“I know.”

She met his eyes then, and Clay tried to absorb what he saw there. Hurt? Jealousy? Anger? Lust for the guy standing beside her? He honestly couldn’t tell.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I happened to be passing by and thought ’Riss might need that.”

“It’s okay. Dr. Wally just stopped to check on me. The news did a big broadcast about the fire and he was worried.”