Autumn in the Vineyard (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) (34 page)

Rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand did nothing to erase the red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. Those eyes made him want to go next door, grab Charles by the neck, and shake
him until he admitted what an amazing granddaughter he had. Then shake him some more to put the fear of God into him in case he ever considered using Frankie again.

“Honey, I heard about…” The words died fast and hard. Frankie took a single step forward and held up her hand. Every thought left his head, and he couldn’t speak past all of the words on the paper staring him down. Words he had written.

He recognized the eight by eleven piece of paper that was crumpled in her hand, recognized the stubborn tilt of her head, but the one thing he didn’t recognize was the look of utter devastation and defeat on Frankie’s face.

“You’re crying.”

She choked out a mirthless laugh. “Is that something you want to add to your
Frankie
list? Because there’s room right here in the margins,” she held up the list he’d stupidly made in a moment of frustration and pointed to the middle of the page, between ‘is messy at best, a disaster at worst’ and ‘drinks from the carton.’ “Or even better, at the bottom of this page.” She flipped the paper over. “Right below ‘selfish with her emotions.’ ”

She wiped angrily at her cheeks again, but the tears fell faster than she could wipe. “Was this your goal all along? A way to get back at me for buying the land? Was this part of your
game
? Make the…” Her chin started quivering in an attempt to stop the flow of tears, and God, it nearly did him in. “Make the ‘socially awkward’ tomboy fall for you then crush her? Well, congratulations, once again. You win, golden boy.”

“Frankie,” he said, but knew there weren’t enough words on the planet to make up for the ones he’d so callously scribbled on that page. “When I wrote that list I was angry, trying to sort out my feelings.”

“Oh, you made your feelings more than clear.” Her chest started trembling and he could hear her struggle to get a breath in past her sobs. “I’m not worth your time or apparently,” she took in a shallow shaky breath, “your love.”

“That’s not true.”

But he could tell by the look in her eyes that regardless of what he said, she believed he didn’t love her. Couldn’t love her. “You promised never to lie to me.”

He stepped forward and took her by the arms. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. “Honey, I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are. It says it right here in black and white next to every failing I possess as a woman, person, and partner.” She shoved the paper against his chest, hard enough that he stumbled back. “I might be ‘uninformed in the current political climate’ due to my ‘obsession with NASCAR’ and I might not have graduated from a fancy school like you, but I can read.”

Nate took the paper and looked down at the last line and felt his chest tighten to the point of pain. He blinked, but when he opened his eyes it was still the same heartbreaking statement staring back at him. The
I L
OVE
F
RANKIE
in the pros column was scratched out, leaving it only on the cons’ side. Shit, he hadn’t remembered crossing it out.

She shook her head, sad and slow, so much fucking pain and heartache in her eyes that he felt his own begin to burn. She was slowly falling apart and it was his fault.

“I could have handled Charles, losing my grapes, everything you wrote on this list. But the last part, I just don’t know how to deal with, because everything else is true so this one must be as well.”

Frankie was the strongest woman he knew. She’d suffered on the outskirts of her family for a lifetime, bounced back after
Charles publically humiliated her, even stood up to Nate and his family without even shedding a tear. And the one person who destroyed her world was him. And he had no idea how to make this right.

“You know what’s funny? You always say I’m not open with my emotions, that you never know where I stand?” She sniffed. “You want to know?”

No he didn’t. Not right now. Not when her eyes told him everything and the humiliation he saw there made his chest hollow out. Because for the first time since high school, Nate saw a flash of that girl who believed she was broken, undeserving of love.

“Right now,” she whispered. “I’m
standing
in your room with a list detailing every single insecurity about myself that I hate and don’t know how to change without changing me.” A fresh wave of humiliation spilled over her lashes. “I’m
feeling
like an idiot for believing that this could work between us and thankful that I didn’t tell you today that I was actually in love with you because that would only make this moment all the more awkward.”

“I don’t care what I wrote. That list is all bullshit, Frankie. Everything there is bullshit. What matters is in here.” He hit his chest. “This matters.
We matter.
And we can make this work.”

He reached out to cup her cheek but she turned her face. “No, we can’t. You have twenty, I mean thirty-seven, clearly outlined reasons why we can’t. Love can’t beat logic. I guess not my love, anyway.”

Nate’s gut clenched to the point of pain. He would have given anything to take back what he’d done. Because seeing her cry was breaking his heart. Watching her grab her helmet and
keys and head for the door had his heart exploding out of his chest.

“Frankie, wait—” he grabbed her hand and she stopped, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Right, I nearly forgot, the
need
part of your emotional equation.” She turned around and wham, the look on her face shattered his fucking world. “I really
need
you to understand that
this
is over.”

He knew what
this
meant. The past, their friendship, hope of a future, all of it was gone. Frankie didn’t do things halfway and he’d just rationalized his way out of the most important thing in his life.

CHAPTER 17

A
m I awkward around kids?” Frankie asked, smashing soggy cereal against the side of her bowl with a spoon.

“Well, I’m not the best person to ask,” Luce said, ripping the kitchen curtains open. God, the morning sun was so bright; it practically flipped Frankie the big, fat sunny finger. “I showed up to Joshua’s Boy Scout badge ceremony with a male escort.”

“I bet grandpa flipped,” Frankie said, observing Luce walk to the counter in her fuchsia house robe and crocheted slippers, to watch waffles toast.

“It’s why I did it.” After buttering, plating, and dousing the toaster waffles with half the bottle of syrup, she set three plates on the kitchen table and pulled out the chair between Frankie and Mr. Puffins. “Now, what’s with all the questions? You got a bun in the oven?”

“No, I was just wondering if everyone had that, you know, maternal thing.” Frankie mumbled, digging into her plate.

The toaster waffles were warm, crunchy on the outside and soft in the center, and coated in liquid sugar. Too bad Frankie was too numb to notice.

“You went over to your house this morning after crying yourself hoarse last night to get your goat, didn’t you?”

Frankie looked out the kitchen window and saw Mittens eating Luce’s wagon wheel while tethered to the fence. “He’s an alpaca, and yes I did because I didn’t want him to worry. I left without telling him where I was going.”

She had gone over at the crack of dawn so that she wouldn’t have to run into Nate, but his car was gone. He’d moved out. Not surprising since she’d texted him that he had three days to vacate the property or she would tell Pricket to call in the bulldozers.

Four months. It had only been four months since the Summer Wine Showdown where Nate kissed her, but her life had changed so much. She started her dream winery, found a happiness and confidence that she’d never known before. Fallen completely and helplessly in love with a DeLuca of all people. Only to have it all taken away in just one day. It was like she was six all over again and her parents were divorcing and her life would forever be changed.

“Well then, that sounds maternal to me.” Luce cut up one of the waffles and pushed the plate in front of Mr. Puffins, who was in a terry cloth robe and bunny slippers. “I don’t know what happened between you and Nathaniel, but I know that he’s sorry.”

Frankie studied her waffle. It was easier than letting Luce see any more tears. “I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’m not really looking for anyone right now. Or ever. I
mean, you are as responsible for this place’s success as Grandpa and you did it all on your own. No man.”

Luce put down her fork. “I did do it all alone. The key word being alone.” She placed a hand over Frankie’s. “I don’t regret my life, I’ve had a fun and full one, but I did it all alone. No husband, no kids, no grandkids. And it’s been hard.”

That startled Frankie. She’d always thought that her aunt had chosen her life. “Then why didn’t you marry?”

“Because I was so busy making sure Charles wouldn’t cut me out of the family business that I spent all my time working. And when I finally decided that maybe I wanted more, all the men my age were married with families, and then, well it just didn’t seem to make sense. But that’s not what I want for you.”

“Yeah, well the only prospect I care about doesn’t really care back.”

“I call bullshit,” Luce snapped, sending Mr. Puffins and his syrup-coated whiskers scurrying under the coach. “That boy has it so bad for you, he’s walking around town like a fool. Everyone knows it.”

Yeah, well by the end of the day everyone would also know that he and Frankie were over. And they’d all assume that she did something wrong.

“Apparently loving me is some kind of hardship,” Frankie admitted and felt her throat tighten. She was not going to cry again. It was embarrassing enough that Luce heard her last night in bed—and then again this morning in the shower—but to actually have her witness it would be humiliating.

“Loving you is the best thing that could happen to a person, I know. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, enough passion to run a small nation, yet in relationships, slugs move faster than you. Which means loving you is as much a
blessing as it is an experience—and it’s an experience that’s not for everyone.”

“I don’t care about everyone,” Frankie whispered. She only cared about one person, and to him her love was something that made his life harder.

“I know you do,” Luce said gently. “And you know what’s wrong with people today?”

“No.” Frankie didn’t feel like sitting through one of Luce’s lectures on the world. Not right now. Not when her world hurt too much to live in.

“They’re lazy,” she went on as though Frankie hadn’t spoken, and she could tell by the way Luce was winding up that it was going to be a long one. “You kids think that loving is the easy part, but it’s not. It’s the liking part that’s difficult. Love, once it happens, is always there no matter how angry you get. But like, that takes compromise and honesty and understanding and a lot of hard work. Look at that grandpa of yours. I love him with all that I am, but I don’t think I’ve liked that SOB since JFK was in office.”

Frankie thought long and hard to find a time when she did like her grandpa, and she couldn’t think of one. She idolized him, respected him, even loved him enough to give up everything to save his winery, but liking the man was difficult.

What if she was the same way?

“You really want to know why I didn’t marry? It took me too long to figure out that although ‘like’ fluctuates over time, love is always there and as long as there is something in there that you like, the love will hold you together.” Luce let out a sigh. “My guess is that right now you’d have a hard time telling me one thing you like about Nate. And I’m betting he’d have even a harder time finding something he liked about himself.”

“I could actually tell you over a dozen things I like about him,” Frankie whispered, knowing it was true. She was mad and confused and didn’t know if this hollow pain in her chest would ever go away, but the reason why she hurt so bad was because Nate was an incredible guy—lists aside. And for a moment she knew what it was like for him to be hers.

“I bet you could also tell me a dozen things about him that drives you crazy.” Luce raised a brow when Frankie didn’t answer. “People make mistakes, Frankie. Nate made a big one in breaking your heart, but don’t let your mistake be pride and fear.”

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Frankie asked, her voice sounding small even to her own ears.

“Ah, Ches-ka, that boy doesn’t just like you, he adores you, bad attitude and all. But most importantly he loves you. That’s forever.” Luce leaned up and gave Frankie a surprising and sweet kiss on the cheek. “Now, go feed your goat. We have to be at the hotel in twenty minutes.”

“God, do I have to go?” Frankie asked. Walking into the Cork Crawl Wine Open and talking to buyers and brokers about a wine that Charles already sold to some bottom-of-the-barreler was going to be bad enough. Having to see Nate and knowing he wasn’t hers was going to wreck her heart.

“You’re my niece, aren’t you?”

And Frankie had her answer.

Frankie stood at the back of the ballroom at the Napa Grand Hotel as buyers and brokers finished their coffee and
pastries, staging their strategy of attack on the provided conference maps while vintners took their places behind assigned linen-covered tables.