Pieces of Rhys (17 page)

Then it dawned on me why he brought me.

"You want me to buy this?"

"No,
I
want to buy it for you."

"You're crazy!" I stumbled back a few steps.

"Listen, Lindsey. You do great work. You know all about this kind of stuff, how to plant it, how to make it grow."

"Yeah, but..." I was at a loss for words.

"It's not just that you're good at it, but..."

What? Was my dad trying not to cry?

"I don't know what happened between you and this guy. I just know that you're in a lot of pain. Even after all that asshole Gary did to you, you didn't look that...dead, like you did a few days ago. I know you're still not yourself, but this stuff really helps you. I want to give this to you, Linny. I can't fix your broken heart, but I can help."

Told you my daddy was a loving father.

I wiped away a couple of tears and threw my arms around my dad.

"What if I fail?" I asked.

"Then at least you'll have a house, but you won't fail," he promised, rubbing my back.

I released him from the hug and said "What am I supposed to do about money? I can't plant a money tree."

He chuckled. "You'll generate enough business to live. Until that happens, don't worry about anything. Do the best you can and we'll make up for the rest."

"You're giving me too much," I said, shaking my head.

"I haven't given you enough," he argued.

We could argue that all day if I allowed it. I've never asked my parents for anything, even though they had the means to do a whole lot, but I didn't feel like they owed me anything either.

"I could pay you back," I said. "After I sell my house."

"This is a gift, Linny. I don't want your money. I just want you to be happy."

I looked at the big house.

"What am I supposed to do with a house that big?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure you can find ways to fill it up, or you can rent it out and get an apartment, or live at home."

"What about the grapes? I don't know anything about making wine. And I don't know if I can do all of this by myself."

"The guy that owns the vineyard behind us said he'll teach you everything. I talked to him before we left. I know some people who can help you out with the other stuff."

"Are they legal?" I asked cautiously.

"Define legal."

"Dad!"

"Yes, they're legal. So, you think you wanna do this?"

I turned in a slow circle, taking in the property. Could I do this? Did I want to do this?

I looked at my dad, who looked hopeful.

"Well..."

Chapter Twenty-seven

Oh my. Oh wow. There was a sexy, tanned, sweaty, rugged, hot Italian man caressing my bare foot and ankle. If he touches my toes, I'm going to pee myself.

Ohhh.

I clenched my thighs together, which only made things worse. He
stroked
my toes!

"Do you feel any pain in your toes?"

I shook my head as I looked into his bright blue eyes.

"I think you just twisted it a little," he said. "To be safe, you should stay off of it today."

"I can't do that," I said. "There's too much work to do."

"That's what I'm here for." He grinned at me.

He still had my foot in his lap, and he was still caressing my ankle. I was so glad that I had taken the time to get a pedicure the day before.

"You know I like to work and get dirty," I said, and then immediately blushed at my choice of words.

Ignacio chuckled. "Yes, I know, but take a break today. I insist."

"I can pull rank and go work anyway."

"You
are
the boss," he conceded. "But I'll call your mom and tell on you."

I gasped. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," he said in a low tone and gazed at me in a way that made me squirm.

"You play dirty," I murmured.

"You have no idea...
boss
." He gently moved my foot, got up, and then settled my foot on the chair.

Good grief. I must be soaked.

"You know you're not a doctor," I said as he started down the porch steps.

He turned around and grinned at me. "No, but it's a game I like to play."

I watched with an open mouth as he walked away.

Ignacio was the first person my dad hired to help me get my property in order. He was the son of a family friend, eight years my senior, and a million degrees hotter than any other male within a thousand mile radius. When I first saw him, I fell off the back porch. What a first impression.

"You know you can't walk on air, right?" He had said before pulling me to my feet.

Well. No one could challenge Rhys's hold on my heart, but as far as eye candy went, Ignacio was going to do just fine.

That was early January and we were now rolling into June. My mini farm was looking good, thanks to the back breaking work of me and my handful of workers. It wasn't easy at first, a lot did not go right. Ignacio kept saying to be patient, but I was finding it difficult to be patient.

"I dropped everything to move here and do this," I whined after another minor failure. "Maybe I made a mistake."

"Your only mistake is that you're not being patient," he had said. "These things happen. If in two years everything is horrible, then you can give it up. It's too soon to give up now, so get back to work."

"I thought I was the boss."

"Get back to work,
boss
," he laughed and walked away.

So, I learned patience, and it paid off. The little store was already open, selling the few things I was already able to harvest, and other items like milk, eggs, bread, other produce I got from a supplier, small snacks and baked goods my mom and grandma made. There were also some plants and flowers for sale in the little green house. It wasn't a huge operation, but I was proud of all we had accomplished in so little time.

And the important thing is that I began to heal from the inside out.

Rhys was still very much in my daily thoughts, and my heart still ached whenever anyone back on the east coast spoke about him. The last time I saw him was the day before I moved in mid December.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," he had said softly.

We were standing in the middle of my empty living room. Professional movers had packed most of my belongings and were already on a trek across the country.

I had not talked to Rhys since my first day in Cali. When I returned, he was conveniently working in another office for a couple of weeks. I didn't announce my departure for about a week, and by the time it got to him, I was almost ready to go. I preferred it that way. Less distractions.

"Phil told me he's buying the house," he said when I didn't have anything to say to his goodbye comment.

"Yeah," I nodded and smiled fondly. "I guess knocking up your girlfriend makes a guy domesticated."

Rhys smiled, and it made me sad, because it was still so perfect.

"Muriel's been in love with him since she was like seven. I can't believe it took him so long to figure it out."

"I'm happy for them. I'm glad they're moving in here," I sighed and looked around the empty space with both bitterness and fondness. The bad memories mingled with the pleasant ones.

"Why are you leaving?" Rhys asked.

I looked at his face. Like mine, he had wounded eyes. Even though the work in my parents back yard brought me back to life, I wasn't really living. My appetite had not returned and I was losing sleep to nights of tears and self pity.  My clothes didn't hug my curves (and fat) like they used to. My eyes were dull, as if all of the life had been sucked out of them. I looked as broken as I felt.

I gained no satisfaction to see Rhys look broken, too. There was a time when I thought such a thing could not happen. Not the bright, carefree, the glass is half full Rhys.

"There's nothing left here for me," I answered softly.

"Is that a jab at me?" He gave a sad smile.

"Of course not. Not really," I sighed. "There's no husband, no boyfriend, and no children or family to speak of."

"Friends?"

"I love my friends, but that's not enough."

He looked like he was thinking carefully before speaking again.

"Would you still be leaving if we were together?"

I looked at the floor. "Probably not. You were enough..."

He sighed heavily. When I sensed him moving towards me, my head snapped up and I moved away.

"Please don't," I said, holding up my hands.

"Lindsey, I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again," he said.

"Rhys, it will only hurt me more," I said shaking my head. "It's just going to make it harder to forget."

He considered my words, but I could tell he had a difference of opinion about it.

"Please," I begged quietly.

Reluctantly, he took a few steps away from me.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

"I forgave you immediately."

He stood up a little straighter. Something a little like hope sparked in his eyes, but I didn't understand why. This was clearly over, done with, kaput.

"Take care of yourself out there," he said with an encouraging smile. "I hope everything works out for you. I hope you find some happiness."

I managed a small smile and nodded. "Take care of Fat Joe, okay?"

He smiled, shook his head and then left me standing there alone.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was dusk by the time Ignacio finished working. Rita, the woman who took care of the store, had just left for the day. It was just me and the sexy Italian.

"I made you dinner," I said when he walked into the kitchen.

"Did you do that sitting down?" He smirked.

I looked over at him, ready to argue my position, and froze. Ignacio had taken his shirt off. He was dirty and sweaty, but it was so freaking hot. I stared at his body as if I had not just seen the same sight the day before.

"I'm sorry," he said, smiling a little. "I should have a shirt on in your kitchen. My mother would kick my ass if she saw me being so disrespectful."

"Umm...no, it's okay," I pulled my eyes away from his body and went back to slicing cucumbers for a salad. "I don't mind it at all."

"You should stop making me dinner," Nacio said. He came over next to where I was standing to use the sink to wash his hands. "You're my boss."

"Yes, you keep reminding me," I said dryly. "Do you not like my cooking?"

"I love your cooking." He looked down at me. His face was fine, very fine, but his eyes were crazy. Even though they were blue, they reflected heat.

The sexual tension between us was almost suffocating. It had been building from that very first day when I fell off of the porch. I didn't want his heart, I just wanted him to fuck the living daylights out of me.

"How's your ankle?" Nacio asked, his voice low and husky.

"Hardly hurts at all," I answered, just above a whisper.

"Sit down so I can have a look at it."

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! He was going to touch me again!