I'll Be Yours for Christmas (5 page)

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Authors: Samantha Hunter

BOOK: I'll Be Yours for Christmas
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“Reece? What is it?”

Sirens screamed in the distance, and the glow in the air over the field that had attracted his attention was not a figment of his imagination.

Her winery was on fire.

3

A
BBY RESTED HER HEAD
against Buttercup's soft neck and just thanked the heavens that the barns hadn't caught fire, too. That was something she couldn't even bear to think about.

Her house was badly damaged, unlivable after water from the hoses had ruined what fire had not, but the main rooms of the winery were reduced to cinders. The horse seemed to nuzzle her in comfort as she tried to hold her tears back, but couldn't, sobs racking her body.

What now?

The flickering light that she'd been trying to have fixed ended up being wires that the fire investigator said were probably chewed through by a mouse or squirrel in the wall. When the tree lights had been plugged in, she hadn't thought twice about it, but the circuit had been overloaded and started the fire. It had spread inside the walls before consuming the entire winery.

If she'd been home, she might have been killed if she had been sleeping or overcome with smoke, although she had detectors everywhere. On the other hand, if she
had been there, she might have been able to call the fire department sooner, and maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, such a complete loss.

Instead, she'd been at Reece's, in his arms, ready to say yes to anything he asked, while her family's legacy burned to the ground.

She had to get away from the swarm of people. The firemen were still keeping watch, even though the fire was officially out, the insurance and other investigators were there, along with some neighbors, friends…and Reece. Everyone wanted to help, but she'd insisted on being alone for just a few minutes.

She needed the peace to think about what she would say to her parents, how she could tell them what happened.

Guilt assailed her. How could she explain why she hadn't been there? That she'd been so busy, and so distracted by thoughts of Reece, that she hadn't thought twice about the tree lights or the electrical problem?

She groaned, standing straight, wiping the tears away. No time for this now.

She had to get the insurance settled and cancel the wedding they'd been planning—that would be another tough phone call. The couple wouldn't likely find another venue with only weeks until the wedding, but there wasn't anything she could do about that. Abby would have to refund their deposits. That was going to hurt.

She'd see if Hannah would let her move in for a while, though it would mean driving back and forth to Ithaca daily, or maybe her insurance would pick up a room at the local inn, for a while at least.

“I thought you might be down here,” a familiar voice said behind her.

“Hannah,” she said, trying to sound normal, but her voice cracked under the weight of her exhaustion, being up all night, dealing with it all.

Hannah was across the barn, holding her arms out and Abby didn't hesitate.

She held on to her friend, just for a minute, but it was Reece's arms she knew she'd been seeking. Remembering how good it had been, not just the sexual part, but the way he'd held her against his hard chest later, when they'd watched the firemen work, had kept her from losing it altogether. She wanted that comfort back.

No, no, no.
That was how she'd gotten into this mess, sort of.

“You okay?” Hannah asked, stepping back and smiling as two of the barn cats wound their way around her ankles.

“Yeah. I'm just so thankful the barns are far away from the house,” she said, stroking Beau's silky nose. All of the animals were okay.

“That is a good thing,” Hannah agreed, chuckling softly as Buttercup snorted happily in response to more scratching. “Everything else can be replaced. It was a straightforward electrical fire. The insurance agent is already on it. Things can be rebuilt.”

“True, but I don't know if that will be enough,” Abby said, too discouraged to be optimistic. “They can't start rebuilding until after winter, which means we're not only losing the Christmas events, but the spring wedding season and tastings as well. We lost almost all of the Riesling casks. With Reece selling, this could just be a
killer blow,” Abby said tightly, her throat constricting at the thought.

“How am I going to tell Mom and Dad? I feel so much like I've let them down,” Abby said, sucking in more tears.

Hannah knew just what to do to drive the tears away.

“Speaking of Reece…he seemed awfully involved in helping you last night. And I couldn't help but notice when we went inside that at first his shirt wasn't buttoned up quite right. You know, like it had been put back together in a rush,” she said, with mischief in her tone that made Abby's tears completely evaporate.

Abby groaned. Did everyone know where she'd been and what she was doing?

As if reading her mind, Hannah added, “He said he saw the fire from his house, got dressed and rushed down to help. Don't worry—he didn't give anything away, though I sure hope you're going to share details with your very best friend in the whole wide world, right? You know, about why Reece was really getting dressed?”

Unbelievably, Abby had to laugh. Leave it to Hannah, even in the middle of utter loss. When all Abby had left was this barn and what was in it, her friend found a way to lighten the mood.

Reece had been wonderful. He hadn't left her side until Hannah had arrived. He jumped in, talking to the firemen, police and the other people milling around, even opening up the main room of his winery for people to come in, get warm and have coffee. At some moment when she'd
been talking to the fire investigator, Abby had lost track of him and assumed he had gone back home.

“Thanks, I needed that,” she said, taking a breath and feeling a bit better. “And there aren't many details to share. Not really. I went down to Reece's, brought some wine, hoping to talk…one thing lead to another, but before it went too far, he noticed the fire. That was pretty much it,” she said, shrugging.

“Oh, I doubt that's it. The man's interested—he couldn't take his eyes off you, especially when that hunky fireman was talking to you, and standing a little too close, by the way,” Hannah said.

“You're imagining things. Reece was just helping out. We're old friends and we shared a moment—instigated by a bottle of wine. It's best forgotten. I have enough to worry about now.” Abby's attention snapped to the barn doors, where outside, she heard a woman's voice, and then sharp, shrieking words. She couldn't make out what was being said, but several colorful curses punctuated the diatribe.

Abby headed out of the barn to find Sandra Towers, the Christmas bride-to-be, standing in the middle of the yard in front of the blackened mess of Abby's winery, wild-eyed and in tears. She spotted Abby then and marched across the lawn, obviously ready for a confrontation.

Great, just what she needed right now. Abby sighed. She shouldn't bothered with having quiet time in the barn. She should have been on the phone doing damage control.

Too late, she admitted, as Sandra met her, almost standing nose-to-nose, and Abby backed up slightly.

“Sandra, I am so sorry. I was about to make phone calls—”

“I saw this on the news and couldn't believe it. I had to see for myself. This is a nightmare! How could you let this happen?” the prospective bride yelled, clearly not thinking straight.

Abby tried to be patient. This was hard on everyone, and brides were under a lot of stress in general. Sandra wasn't finished, obviously.

“What am I going to do? The invitations are all sent! Everything is scheduled! How are you going to fix this?” she demanded, and Abby pulled in a deep breath, closing her eyes, reaching for patience.

“Sandra, I know it's terrible, and I wish there was better news, but I'll definitely refund all of your down payment and try to help you find another—”

“The wedding is twenty-five days away! There is
no
other place,” the young woman wailed. “I know, I checked them all. We have family coming in from Europe! You had better fix this or…or…we'll
sue!

Abby was quite sure the normally pleasant woman was just distraught, and also was sure—mostly—that she had no basis for a lawsuit whatsoever. Still, it was hard to remain calm, and she was digging her nails into her palms in her effort to do so.

Suddenly, Reece appeared, putting his large hand on her shoulder. She looked up in surprise, noting the circles under his eyes. He was obviously exhausted, too.

“Abby, could I talk to you for a minute?” he said politely. “Excuse us for just a moment,” he said to Sandra
with a smile. Amazingly, the young woman didn't pitch yet another fit.

Abby walked with him to a spot about twenty feet away and wondered how she could still feel his touch when she was wearing her coat and he had put on a pair of heavy gloves. Maybe the same way she'd had a scream-worthy orgasm against his thigh—apparently clothes were not a barrier to sex with Reece Winston.

“First things first,” he said, dragging her away from her thoughts and producing a steaming travel cup to her. She could smell the aroma of the hot coffee inside. She took the cup, took a sip and peered at him over the top, thanking him with a look of bliss.

“I came out to bring you that and heard the shouting. I guess you had a wedding planned soon?”

She groaned and nodded. “Two days before Christmas.”

“And that is the blushing bride,” he stated more than asked.

“Yes.” Abby sighed. “I don't blame her for being upset, but I didn't expect her to come out here and go nuts…. Still, I can imagine it's a mess for her, too.”

Reece nodded. “She's obviously missing the point that you lost a lot more than she did last night,” he said in a hard tone, peering over to where Sandra stood, arms crossed, watching them.

Abby didn't say anything, but took another sip of the strong coffee so the heat would scorch away the tightening in her throat. He was sticking up for her again, just like he did when the mean boy had picked on her about her braces.

“Thanks, but I have to find some way to compensate
her. Now is as good a time as any. Then I have to find out what our exact losses are and call my parents. That is going to be so awful…” she said, and didn't dare meet his eyes, lest his sympathy weaken her resolve not to cry again.

Normally Abby never cried, not even during sappy movies, but she was overwrought and exhausted. Right now, she needed to concentrate on business.

“I have an idea,” Reece said.

“If we try to lock her in the barn, I don't think anyone will believe that she's a runaway bride,” Abby tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Reece smiled slightly. He tipped her chin up with his fingers, making her meet his eyes, which were sympathetic, but not in a bad way. In a silvery, soft way that made her remember his kiss.

“What?” she asked, almost panicked that amid everything, she could still lust for Reece.

“Use Winston wineries for the wedding, and for any other events you have this month. You can move your wines down to our room, and we'll feature both vineyards, if you don't mind—yours and ours. I need to clear out inventory before we sell, so it could work out for all of us.”

Abby stared. Had he just offered for her to use his winery?

“But…you're selling,” she said blankly. What if the place sold quickly? She'd only become reaquainted with Reece two days ago—could she trust him? She couldn't make promises that she'd break again later on.

“Don't worry about that. I can work it out so that whoever buys us, they don't close until after the wedding, at
least. If it takes longer, we can figure it out as we go, but in the meanwhile, you're welcome to run your business out of our front rooms.”

Abby was stunned and unsure what to say, but she couldn't think of one good reason to say no, except what had happened between them the night before. What had
almost
happened. If she and Reece were going into business together, even temporarily, she couldn't let that happen again.

“I don't know what to say…it's so generous of you,” she admitted. “It would save me so much, not having to refund the deposit on this wedding. And all you want me to do is sell your wines, too?”

That wouldn't be hard; the Winstons made spectacular wines, and she had lost several barrels in the fire, so this could be the perfect solution.

As long as they could keep their hands—and wonderful, muscular thighs—to themselves, she thought silently.

“I thought you said your Realtor wanted you keeping the property empty, neutral? I'd have to decorate, and there would be people around all the time….”

Reece didn't look concerned. “I know. I'm sure he can work around it. The place is just sitting there. I already sent the staff home and was going to run the main room myself for a few weeks, but you obviously could use it.”

Her heart lightened as she considered, and she felt hopeful for the first time all morning. This could save her, in more ways than one.

“We'd have to, um, keep things strictly business, though,” she said, hoping he got her drift.

This would also give her the perfect opportunity to talk with Reece about selling. Maybe she could convince him there was a better way…and give her time to figure out what that was.

“Whatever you want, Abby. I'm just a friend, trying to help. No strings attached,” he said, though she could tell from the heat in his eyes that he was remembering the night before, too.

Could
she
keep things “strictly business” with Reece?

“I guess I could ask Sandra,” she said, though she couldn't imagine it wouldn't be an acceptable option. Winston wineries was far fancier than Abby's reception room, and with the same beautiful views.

“I could try booking rooms for the wedding party at Tandy's Inn, and I'll need one, too,” she added, thinking out loud.

“We have some rooms upstairs. Mom used them more for guests, but they would work for your wedding party to dress or spend the night. You should stay at the house. You're more than welcome.”

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