Wild Abandon (22 page)

I laugh and finish my song.

Sexy black dress and super high heels, my hair blown and lashes glued on, I am out to dinner to Morimoto Napa, a Japanese restaurant in Downtown Napa.

Brent has excellent culinary taste. He has great taste in everything.

He has flaws, too. He answers his phone during our dates and often stops to text. He also likes to eat garlic, which makes me cringe when I kiss him. I’ve rectified the situation by carrying mints with me.

I am starting to feel comfortable with him, enough so that I am more talkative. Tonight, I am telling him all about Russet Ranch and Big Ed. Brent isn’t as enraptured in the conversation as I thought he’d be.

“I’ve never heard of it. You said they make their own wine?” he asks.

“They did but stopped a few years ago. The owner leases the land out, but I have a feeling he’ll start production again soon. The wine is spectacular.” I’m gushing.

“You amaze me, Crystal Reid. How did my Cinderella end up sweeping floors?” His voice is so smooth that I don’t know if the comment is a compliment or an insult.

Brent leans forward and brushes the hair off my shoulder.

“Don’t get me wrong; I think your tenacity is astounding. But a woman of your caliber should be waited on, not the other way around.”

He smiles, and I match his grin and lean into him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re suave?” I ask.

He smiles back at me. “All the time.”

I am laughing at this statement when I notice someone coming through the door. He’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans with a knit hat on his head.

What the hell is he doing here?

Nate takes a seat at the sushi bar and glances around the room. When his eyes fall on me, the look says he is not surprised to see me sitting there.

“Are you okay?” Brent’s voice pulls me back.

“Yes. Sorry. I thought I saw something. What were we talking about?”

“How suave I am.” Brent’s arm is resting on my shoulder.

His finger rises up to play with the lobe of my ear. I muster every ounce of energy I have to keep my focus on Brent as hard, cold emerald eyes are staring death lasers into the side of my head.

“What are you doing next weekend? I want to take you to my place in Tahoe. Just you and me, a hot tub, and an incredible view of the mountains.” Brent is crooning.

“Tahoe? Just the two of us?” My voice squeaks.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a sleepover with a guy. I’m no prude. I’ve been around the block a few times. But the insinuation in the invitation leaves nothing up to misinterpretation.

Brent’s cologne overpowers the space as he leans in and says into the side of my neck, “Just”—he gives my skin a nibble—“the”—nibble—“two of”—nibble, nibble—“us.”

As much as I feel Brent’s lips on my neck, I feel Nate’s stare even more.

“What do you think?”

Nibble.
Stare.
Nibble.
Glare.
Nibble.
Jaw Clench.

“I’ll be right back.” I rise from the table.

Brent rises with me and then sits back down as I walk toward the ladies’ room. Before I make it there, I feel a tug on my hand and am pulled in another direction, out a back door and outside into the chilly Napa evening.

“What is wrong with you?” I yell at Nate as soon as the door closes behind us.

“You’re still going out with that guy?” Nate is not happy.

“What do you care? You’re the one who said he was a catch.” My hands are flying out and up and around.

“I said you picked a good one. I didn’t say he was good enough for you!” He stops and corrects himself, changing the path of the conversation. “And what are you doing, working at Russet Ranch? I thought you were a cellist.”

“I am a cellist.”

“At a winery?” His feet are wide apart, and his hands are on his hips. “You could work anywhere else in the world, but you landed at Russet Ranch?”

I think about his question and answer as honestly as I can, “Sometimes, the path you’re on isn’t the right one for you.”

Nate’s eyes burn. “Is that what you’re doing, Crystal? Switching things up?”

“Yes,” I say with surety in my statement. “Haven’t you ever tried something wild? Something different?”

“There are a lot of things I’d like to try, but I don’t go around changing the course of other people’s lives because I’m acting on a whim.”

He is making no sense, and it’s really pissing me off.

“Why do you care who I date? Or where I work? Or what I do, period? You already told me to stay away from you. This, here…it’s just…” I can’t even find the right words. “It’s plain cruel.”

Nate stops and leans against the wall. He takes his hat off and rubs his head in aggravation. His hair is longer by an inch or so than it was the first time I met him. He places his hat back on his head and then looks back at me, remorse in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I’m exasperated.

He lets out a deep sigh. “For treating you the way I did. The way I have. You don’t deserve that.”

“Damn right I don’t,” I throw in, as if I’m arguing with him on the subject even though he just apologized.

We stand there for a moment, a standoff of looks and sighs and one person starting to say something but then stopping when the other starts to talk as well. We have so much to say yet absolutely nothing to talk about.

Nate finally breaks our stare-off and then looks down at what I’m wearing. His eyes widen slightly in appreciation. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” I don’t know what more I would hope for him to say.
Fucking beautiful
.

“Brent’s a good guy. If you like him, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I look down and kick a few scattered pebbles on the ground. “I don’t know how much I like him. He asked me to go away with him this weekend. I think I’m gonna go.”

Nate nods and kicks the same pebbles. “Going away. That’s a big step for someone you don’t know how much you like.”

I agree but don’t argue. I look at Nate. He looks so out of place. Vulnerable and unsure like this. It’s not the same guy I was friends with. I stand up straight, square my shoulders, and decide to be the one to attack the giant elephant in the room—or alleyway. Whatever.

“I understand you have a girlfriend.” He pops his head up and I continue, “I respect that. And the fact that you pulled away from whatever that was happening between us in the poolroom…well, that just makes me respect you even more. You have morals.”

“Crystal, I —”

“Let me finish.” I want to get this out before he says something to ruin it. “Before you started pushing me away, we were having a good time. I know I seem like the type who will talk to anyone, but I choose to confide in only a few. I like you. As a friend. We don’t need to be best friends, and I understand our wine-tasting adventures won’t happen again. But I’d like it if I could go to Henley’s again and say hi.”

“You can do more than just say hi, Crystal.” Nate moves off the wall and comes closer to me. “I like you, too. As a friend. And I promise, I won’t push you away.” He smiles and then adds, “Or follow you into restaurants.”

I grin. “Yeah, what the hell is that all about?”

“I saw you, and…it doesn’t matter. I felt like shit about the last time I saw you.” He then corrects himself, “The last two times I saw you.”

We are standing so close. Too close. Closer than a man and a woman who are just friends are supposed to be standing. But I don’t move back. Neither does he.

“So, I guess I’ll see you when I get back from Tahoe,” I say, my voice a whisper, as I stare into the sea of olive green.

Nate swallows and nods his head. “Tahoe.”

“Tahoe,” I repeat. Then, I remember I have a date waiting for me inside. Reluctantly, I back up and make my way toward the door.

Nate grabs my hand, and with a powerful force, like a magnet being pulled to its opposite, I swing around to face him, colliding with his chest and feeling his heart beat in unison with mine.

“Go somewhere with me. Tomorrow,” he says. His eyes are searching mine, worried.

Worried I might say no.

I should say no. I know Nate. He runs. He hides. He pushes away.

But I can’t say no to him.

So, I say, “Yes.”

chapter FIFTEEN

Ethel Merman.

“Everything’s Coming Up Roses.”

It’s being whistled.

By me.

I’m walking through the rose garden, toward the adorable round man in suspenders and a trilby hat. He’s humming his own little ditty as I come up behind him, and he stops as I approach.

“Nice to see someone finally pulled out of her little slump,” Ed observes.

“I wasn’t in a slump.”

“You played nothing but breakup songs all week. If I didn’t like you so much, I would have fired you. What’s the change? Mr. Moneybags finally win you over?”

My hands fly to my hips. “How did you know I was dating Brent Montavale?”

“I do have friends,” he says defensively.

I make an
harrumph
sound at him and wonder which friend spilled the beans. “Handsome Harry?”

“Mountain Mark. He works up at the Montavale Estates. Saw you two galloping in the fields,” Ed says with a sarcastic yet teasing tone.

I smile at the back of his head but keep an annoyed voice. “Well, looks like I’ll have to do a better job of keeping my private affairs private.”

“You do that,” Ed says as he places a rose into the basket. “I have a feeling though that Mr. Montavale isn’t the one who’s been keeping your heart occupied.”

Sometimes, my dear Ed is too intuitive for his own good. He saw Nate drive off the other day. He probably thinks it was a lover’s quarrel.

“We’re just friends.”

“What’s that old expression? Men and women can’t be just friends?”

“We can, and we are. He has a girlfriend. And I have Brent.”

Ed gets up and grabs his basket. “You can handle just being his friend without compromising his relationship with this other woman?”

“I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.”

Ed seems to accept my answer, and I follow him into the ranch. He places the basket on the bar and then takes out a knife to remove the thorns.

I sit on a stool and watch him work. I’ve watched him do this for what feels like a thousand times. There’s always a fresh bouquet by the front door. But he prunes many, many more than that.

Ed places the stems he has de-thorned on the bar and moves on to another bunch. “Rosemary believed these were magical roses. She said they could cure the greatest heartbreak and most severe of bad days.” Ed smiles to himself.

“Love never dies,” I recite the words Ed once said to me.

“Love never dies.” He wraps the stems in twine and hands a small bouquet to me. “For you.”

I lean over the bar and give Ed a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Ed.” I hop off the stool and grab my bag.

“What do you have? A hot date or something?”

I shrug. “More like a lukewarm outing with a friend.” I swing around and head out to my car.

When I get to Nate’s house, I can’t fathom leaving the flowers in the heat, so I bring them with me. Nate opens the door, and his eyes instantly land on the red petals.

“You do know this isn’t a date.” He’s skeptically eyeing me.

“They’re not for you. They’re for me. They’re my magic roses.” I brush past him and open his kitchen cabinet to grab a glass to leave them in.

Nate stares at the glass as I fill it with water, and then he smiles to himself. “I believe in magic roses.”

I’m surprised by his comment, so much so that I make a face at him. I make a face for so long that the water overflows from the glass.

“Don’t kill the magic roses.” He grabs the glass and places it on his table. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

He won’t tell me where we’re going, but I’m assuming it’s another vineyard. Something small like the wine cave we went to. I ask him ten times in the short drive, and he just smiles and shakes his head.

When we pull into a large field, there is absolutely no mistaking what we are about to do. In the middle of the grass is a giant wicker basket lying on its side and the world’s largest balloon splayed out on the grass.

I swallow down my anxiety. “Um, Nate, don’t you think this is something you should have asked someone if they were comfortable with doing it before you went ahead and booked it?”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to try it.”

“Saying something and doing something are two very different things.”

Nate grabs my hand. I didn’t realize how tightly I was gripping the center console.

With his other hand, he pulls my chin, forcing my gaze away from the hot air balloon in front of us and onto him. “Are you going to tell me the woman who packed up her life on a whim in search of love and adventure is afraid?”

“I’m not afraid of heights.”

He raises a brow. “I know. I took you on an air tram. You said this was something you wanted to do. What are you afraid of?”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Dying. Falling to my death. Not living to see thirty-one,” the answers easily flow out of my mouth.

He lowers his forehead and makes sure I’m staring directly into his eyes. His voice is low and assured. “Crystal, do you think I’d make you do something I didn’t think was one hundred percent safe?”