The Davis Years (Indigo) (22 page)

“Where are we going, Davis? Charlottesville?”

He shrugged, obviously enjoying the game. “Maybe.”

“Further?”

“Maybe I’m just gonna run away with you.” Davis reached across the console for her hand, and she slipped it into his.

She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it before placing it back in her lap. She pushed the thought away of how nice it would be if this was a normal outing for a normal couple.

The weather was beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky. Not oppressively humid. And the temperature was in the high seventies. It was hard to ask for a nicer day during a Virginia summer.

“What? This is where we’re going?” Jemma asked as Davis turned onto a gravel road, passing a sign that said “Bayberry Vineyards.” They’d just passed Gordonsville and were outside of Charlottesville. The vineyard was in a little town that couldn’t have been a dot on the map nestled between the two larger towns.

“Yeah. You like wine, right? You told me you took that wine class or whatever as an elective in college,” Davis said, squeezing her hand.

“This is perfect.” Jemma’s entire face lit up as she looked out of the window at the rolling hills filled with rows of vines. They pulled up near a white Tudor-style house. Davis parked in the small parking lot where there were only a few other cars.

They walked up to the building hand-in-hand and greeted the petite blonde behind the desk in the office. The building looked like a house converted into an office. The reception area could have been a living room at one time.

Davis introduced himself and recognition filled the girl’s brown eyes. She didn’t look much older than seventeen and she had that smitten, I’ve-been-charmed look on her face that Davis could bring to a girl with very little effort. Jemma knew that well.

“Oh, yeah. Mister Hill. Private tasting tour, right? Hold on a minute and I’ll get Josh. He’ll be the one giving you the tour.” The girl stood, smoothed out the wrinkles in her khaki cropped pants, and jogged to the back. They heard a door slam. Jemma figured the girl must have gone outside to get Josh.

“Private, huh? Is that expensive?” Jemma asked, feeling badly at the thought of having set Davis back.

“Nah. Besides, whatever it cost, I wanted to spend it. Otherwise it would have probably gone to rotgut liquor and cigarettes,” Davis said before kissing the tip of her nose.

“Good point,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “Hey. I thought you said you quit smoking.”

“Yeah. Working on it. Kind of,” Davis said with a wink.

He was a sneaky one. Then again, his breath was extra minty sometimes.

Josh, a middle-aged, well-built man with dark, weathered skin and kind, brown eyes came inside, grinning a grin full of perfectly straight white teeth.

“Josh Burgundy. Davis? Jemma? Pleasure to meet y’all.” Josh held out his hand for them to shake, which they did.

“Well, you two, how about we get started? We’ll start out back where the grapes grow and work our way inside to where all the magic happens and we stomp the grapes.” Josh laughed at his own joke before continuing. “Just jokin’ with y’all. We don’t stomp ’em anymore. Let’s get a move on so y’all can get to the good part.” He ran a hand over his thinning black hair. “Tasting the best grapes around after they’ve been all doctored up by the finest winemaker and vintner in the whole state of Virginia. Heck, probably in all this fine country of ours.”

They followed Josh outside, arms wrapped around each other. Jemma slipped on her sunglasses, unable to stop smiling. She was barely able to concentrate on what Josh was telling them about soil, European grapes, blending grapes, or anything else. Once they moved into the barrel room, she stared at the oak barrels, but was glad there was no test later on the differences between using them for the reds and the steel tanks he showed them in the next room for the whites. Although Josh was nice and his words ordinarily would have been very interesting to her, she was lost in thoughts of Davis.

Davis held her close during the entire tour. Regardless of where he stood, he had at least one arm around her waist. When he pressed his cheek to hers, or when his lips were near her ear, she lost track completely of what Josh was saying. Every touch was familiar and intimate—as if they were doing things they did all the time. She tried hard not to think of it that way, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Later, they went into the tasting room. It was a vast cavern of a room dominated by a large stone fireplace, but it still managed to have a cozy feel. They chatted with a few couples, all of them telling Jemma and Davis what an adorable couple they made. Jemma thanked them, not bothering to correct them. When they were done in the tasting room, they wandered into the retail area nearby.

After buying a couple of bottles of a chardonnay Jemma liked, they sat down in the winery’s small dining area to a lunch Davis had packed for them. The lunch was simple, but the best thing Jemma had ever eaten, knowing Davis was thinking of her when he made it. Plus, the sandwiches and potato salad really were tasty.

“You have a good time today?” Davis asked before taking a sip of water from a paper cup. He’d brought a large bottle of water for them to share.

“Oh yeah. This is—I never dreamed you planned anything like this.” Jemma couldn’t keep herself from gushing, showing her true surprise at the thought Davis had put into their day together.

He chuckled. “You were probably expecting something really bad, huh? A total cop-out? Like me taking you to a baseball game or something else you would have hated?”

“Hey. I like sports.”

“Not baseball. You say it’s too long and boring and you don’t understand why they have to have all the innings.”

She laughed. “How do you know so much about me?”

“I told you. I listen. A lot more than you think I do, apparently. A whole lot more.” He grinned, kissing the corner of her mouth. He started to pull back. She pulled him close again, kissing him softly on the lips.

“I wish I hadn’t said I’d go to the show tomorrow night. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Well, we have tonight, the day tomorrow, and you’re still coming over after the show, right?”

“Right after.” Jemma kissed his cheek. The look he gave her sent chills all over her body and warmth to all the right and dangerous spots.

“I’ll be counting the minutes. I’ll probably screw up more orders than usual.”

They laughed.

A couple stopped near them, smiling. A tall, olive-skinned man and his shorter companion greeted them.

“Is anyone sitting here?” The woman pointed to the empty bench across from them.

Jemma shook her head. “No. Have a seat.” She gestured toward the bench.

They sat. “We are from Spain. This is our honeymoon. We wanted to try this famous Virginia wine.” The woman had a heavy Spanish accent and she put a short “e” sound in front of “Spain” so that it sounded like the word started with an “e” instead of an “s”. “This is my husband, Guillermo, and I am Maria.” Maria flipped her shiny black hair out of her eyes and smiled at them.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jemma and this is Davis.” Jemma put her hand over Davis’s, which rested on the table, when she said his name. He squeezed it and she grinned at him.

“You two are so beautiful together. I was saying that to Guillermo before we came over.” Maria smiled at them before murmuring something to Guillermo in Spanish. He nodded.

“Maria was saying to me that you two have so much love for each other in your eyes.” Guillermo translated with a smile.

Jemma blushed and slid her hand from Davis’s. “Are you two enjoying your trip so far?”

“We are. This is our first trip to the United States together. We both came when we were younger at different times. That was before we knew each other.” Maria smiled and murmured something else in Spanish to Guillermo. Even though Jemma’s Spanish was limited, she figured out that Maria was asking how to say something in English. Guillermo answered her in a murmur.

Maria said, “
Vale
,
vale
,” and then turned to Jemma and Davis. “We are taking the train to Washington, D.C. tomorrow. We will spend a few days there before flying back to Madrid.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Madrid,” Jemma said with a dream-filled smile.

Davis said, “Could be fun.”

She glanced sideways at him without turning her head and felt badly for moving away from him, realizing it’d been stupid to do so just because of what Maria had said. She certainly hadn’t wanted to move. She’d be gone in a few days and nothing too disastrous could happen in a few days. She told herself for the thousandth time to just relax. To live in the moment for once.

“You should come. Spain is a very beautiful country, and especially Madrid.” Maria smiled broadly. “Maybe you two will come to Spain for your honeymoon?”

Jemma winked at Davis, wanting to play along. “Maybe.”

Davis grinned and put his arm around her waist. “We could do that.”

“Have you been together for very long?” Maria asked.

“We’ve known each other for ages, but our relationship’s pretty new.” Jemma was enjoying her little game. She moved down the bench so that she was closer to Davis, their legs touching.

“Ah, well, you make the beautiful couple and you will have the beautiful babies.”

“Maria.” Guillermo gave his wife a look.

“Oh, these young American kids. They can take a good joke, right?” Maria laughed again—a rich, throaty sound.

Davis wasn’t laughing. He looked directly into Jemma’s eyes until she looked away. The game had been a dangerous one. She could tell he was actually thinking about it—he was considering Maria’s words.

Maria clasped her hands together. “And now we celebrate. We toast our new friendship with some Virginia wine. This wine, it’s okay, but it’s no rioja. Then again, what is?” She gave them a broad smile and then started singing the praises of Spanish wine.

They chatted with Maria and Guillermo until the winery closed. The two were so much fun to talk to that Jemma didn’t want to leave. Before they left, all four exchanged email addresses and Maria made them promise to look her and Guillermo up if they ever made it to Spain. However, Maria insisted it was a question of “when” and not “if.”

Jemma walked back to the car with her arm linked through Davis’s. She glanced at him several times, noticing the way the sun shone on his black hair, the hollow in his cheek where there were acne scars left over from high school, how quiet he was.

When she asked him later why he was so quiet, he said he was thinking. She didn’t press him after that. She was scared he’d answer her honestly and that her response to him would confuse her even more. As it was, thoughts about how she could make a life in Derring work for herself refused to leave her mind.

Davis didn’t drop Jemma off at Mary’s until he was already ten minutes late for work. They’d spent the whole day together Thursday, and they didn’t do much of anything. It was the nicest doing nothing had ever felt. From Wednesday morning until Thursday afternoon was just like heaven. Even as she walked into the house, she wished she was still sitting on Davis’s couch, running her hand through his hair while they watched movies on TCM.

Jemma showered and changed into jeans and a tank top right before Emily Rose pulled into the driveway that night. Emily Rose insisted on driving to the club, which was fine since Mary needed her car to get to work that night.

“So you all psyched for your big move to New York? New apartment. Newly wed.” Jemma stretched and leaned back in the passenger seat as they flew down I-95 South, on their way to Richmond. Em Rose had always had a little bit of a lead foot.

She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Sure, there are more teaching positions available. And of course, there’s Michael. I would only move there for him. I mean, I miss him already, and he just left Monday. But I’m not as excited to leave Derring behind as you are, Jemma.”

“You actually like being in this place, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s where I grew up. Met the best friends I’ve ever had. Where I learned so much. And high school was fun for me. Even though it was just the three of us—you guys were the center of my world and that was all I needed.”

Jemma smiled, realizing that it really hadn’t been all bad. She sighed, thinking of making cookies with Em Rose and of walks home from school with Wendell.

“You really hate Derring, Jemma? There was good in being here, too, right?”

“I guess you’re right about that.” Jemma changed the subject. “So you’re going to let a guy tell you what to do?”

“It’s about compromise and doing what you can to make each other happy. I can teach anywhere, but Michael needs to be in New York. A good job in finance is hard enough to find these days. Why should he put himself at a needless disadvantage?”

“I guess.” Jemma shrugged. “Just seems like you’re doing most of the compromising.”

“I think I know why you’re being so hostile.”

“Huh? I’m being hostile? ‘Bout what?”

“There’s a certain guy you’d love to be with, but you won’t let yourself.”