Stranded in Mill Pond by Judi Lynn (my romance pen name)
Harley slowed for the curve that bordered the cemetery. Country roads rarely took a straight path. They meandered between farm fields and ancient oaks. That's why he liked them. When he'd straddled his namesake motorcycle late this morning, he'd set off for a Sunday ride. Dad could watch football all day without interruptions while he enjoyed the freedom of the road. He stopped at a deli in Mill Pond to buy picnic foods, then carted his stash to the lake and ended up running into a few people he knew. Marissa was there with her new husband. Harley liked the guy. He made Marissa happy. More friends showed up, and the day slipped away before he realized it.
Finally returning home, he found himself heading into the sunset, literally. But what a glorious sight! He always saluted the little cemetery at the curve in the road and looked for his mother's gravestone. It nestled under a wide-branched tree. Tonight, a young woman leaned against the granite slab, shoulders slumped, her hands covering her face. Her car was parked on the gravel drive, its flashers blinking. Was she in trouble? Stranded?
He made a U-turn and went back to the cemetary's drive. The woman's head snapped up at the sound of his bike's muted rumble, and alarm widened her hazel eyes. He cut the engine and put both hands in the air. "I saw your flashers and thought you might be in trouble."
She stood, her posture telling him she was ready to run. He did look a little scruffy. Hadn't shave lately. He'd have more than a five o'clock shadow. Couldn't remember the last time he got his hair trimmed. Dark and shaggy probably made her think jobless.
He grinned. "I'm not going to rob you." He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. "Can I call someone for you?" No service stations would be open on a Sunday, especially this late at night, but he should be able to get her car towed.
She pulled her own cell phone out of her jeans pocket, pushing it toward him, so that he'd see she could call for help. "A friend's already on his way. I'll be fine."
Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She didn't look like a girl who would soon be rescued. "I call bullshit. You'd be standing by the road, ready to wave your arms so your friend could see you, if you thought he'd show up soon."
She squared her shoulders. Her scowl looked ferocious. Not very intimidating. She was too damned pretty with flowing, blonde hair and a heart-shaped face. "I told him to look for the car's blinkers."
"If you say so, but it's going to get dark soon. When you're stranded out here with the owls and coyotes, remember someone tried to help you and you turned him away."
She bit her bottom lip. "Is there a town close by?"
"I left Mill Pond fifteen minutes ago. Do you need a ride there?"
She eyed the bike. A Harley obviously said Perverted Rebel to her. He might do better at putting her at ease if he rode a broom. Finally, she asked, "Is there a cheap motel?"
He shook his head. For the first time, he noticed the stacks of clothes in the back seat of her car. He looked at the license plate. Pennsylvania. "This is a tourist area. Most things are a little pricey. Are you stranded?"
"Just until I get my car fixed. I have a job waiting for me in Illinois. All I have to do is get there. I've been trying to travel on a budget."
A tiny one, he'd guess. He recognized a note of hysteria in her voice. No need to push her. "Grams will give you a room for the night. I'll drive you back to Mill Pond and introduce you."
"Your grandmother?" she asked.
"No, Tessa's, but everyone in town calls her Grams. She mothers us all." He smiled. "You'll like her. Everyone does."
The woman's shoulders relaxed. The look of desperation eased a little.
"I'm Harley," he said. "I own a vineyard ten minutes from here. Mill Pond is my home town."
She hugged her thin frame. "I'm Kathy. Thanks for stopping."
He motioned toward the gravestone. "Hope my mom's been nice to you. I usually visit her once a month."
A blush colored her neck and cheeks. "Your mom? Oh, sorry. I just needed a place to have a breakdown."
She didn't look the type to break down often. There was a steeliness about her that he liked. "Life gives us hard knocks sometimes. I never expected to lose Mom so soon." She'd battled cancer for two years. Now, he ran the vineyard with his dad. Between the two of them, they worked outdoors most of the time, only doing the minimum to the big, sprawling house they shared. That had been Mom's domain, and they weren't quite ready to fill her shoes.
"You live ten minutes away?" she asked.
He gave her a thoughtful look. "I live with my dad. You'd be welcome to stay with us, if the idea doesn't freak you out. If you don't feel comfortable in the main house, you could sleep on the couch in the office in the wine-tasting shop."
She studied him, hard. "And living with your dad doesn't slow you down? Do you bring girls back to your place?"
He caught her meaning. "Everyone around here knows everyone. Living at home doesn't matter, but I'm not into anyone anyway, so it's a moot point."
She looked more confused. "You like girls, don't you? I mean, you're a good-looking guy, the right age…."
"I was engaged once. We broke it off. She's married now, and I'm taking a sabbatical."
"So girls are off-limits?"
"For a while."
"In that case…." She started to her car and grabbed a few things from its front seat. "Going to your place would save you a trip to town and back. You're doing me a favor, and I appreciate it. Can I call someone to get my car?"
"I'll call Garth when we get you settled." He put her stuff in his bike's saddlebags and motioned for her to hop on behind him.
She looked nervous, but climbed on. She grabbed the seat and held tight, keeping as much distance between them as possible. He grinned when he took a curve and she had to reach for him. Warmth pulsed inside him. Unexpected. He'd taken plenty of girls for rides, and they'd been happy to cling to him, but none of them affected him. Why this girl?
It was dark when they pulled up to his garage. Lights glowed from the house's windows, spilling over the white stucco. The red-tiled roof finished the Spanish effect. Across the wide, asphalt driveway, the tasting room—same Spanish style—sat in spotlights. Harley motioned to each. "Take your pick. Where would you rather stay?"
Kathy's gaze went to the stone fireplace, visible in the front room. A man came to look out the window, smiling down at Harley. "Is that your dad?"
"I'm later than usual. He was probably beginning to wonder."
"He looks nice."
"A friendly warning—if you walk into that room, he'll fuss over you. It's his nature. He'll probably ask you a slew of questions, trying to decide if you'd make a good mother for my babies. He's been hinting for the last year that he doesn't have any grandchildren."
Kathy laughed. "Let's go see if I pass the test. Then I'll know if I should think about kids in the future."
"For real?"
She started to the house. "Would you make a good dad?"
"Our dog loves me."
"They say that's a sign." She waited for Harley to open the door for her, then lugged her stuff inside. When they entered the front room, the dog ran in happy circles around Kathy's feet.
Kathy bent to pet him. "A Chihuahua? You don't look the type."
"He was Mom's dog. He misses her. Besides, he speaks Spanish, fits the house."
She laughed.
Harley's dad beamed with pleasure. "You brought a girl home. At last."
"Don't get any ideas. Her car died, and she's stranded."
"No matter. Are hungry, child? Harley will fix you something."
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
Dad's schmoozing began. Before the end of the evening, Harley learned that Kathy was an accountant who'd barely escaped her roommate's boyfriend in one piece. When she'd told her roommate what happened, the girl shrugged and said, "Then move out. That way, Bryce can move in with me." They'd just gone together on the security deposit and move-in fees for the place, split the price of furniture, and gotten settled. Kathy's savings were mere fumes, and there was no way to get them back. Luckily, her friend's name was the only one on the lease, since she planned to stay there, and Kathy had only meant to room with her for a year or two.
"And your job?" Dad asked. "You lost that, too?"
"I worked with Heather. Her boyfriend was our office manager. Dating supposedly was against company policy. No one knew about them."
"You got scammed," Harley said.
"You think?" Her eyes misted, and she blinked quickly.
"At least you found another job in a hurry. Lesson learned." What else could he say? She'd trusted someone who was a scumbag and took advantage of her.
Dad pinched his lips together in a tight line. "I don't know when your new job starts, but Harley and I—we aren't so good at keeping the books. We manage, but that's all. Our quarterly report's coming up. If you'd help us with it, you could stay here until your car gets fixed."
Harley raised his eyebrows. Dad hadn't complained about quarterly reports before. But if this was Dad's way of offering Kathy a place to stay until she could move on, that was fine with him.
Kathy pursed her lips, thinking. "My new job doesn't start for two weeks. I could use extra money to cover my car repairs, so the answer's yes."
Dad's smile was too big. Harley looked at him suspiciously, but the old man could play innocent when he wanted to. Mom had been a spitfire, and his dad—a Swede—used charm and diplomacy to get his way. Harley had inherited his mom's coloring and his dad's size. And he'd been lucky enough to be loved by both of them.
"Do you cook?" Dad asked Kathy.
She grimaced. "Sorry, no."
"Aaah, but that's good. My son can create wonders in the kitchen. Tell us what you like, and he'll fix it for you."
When Harley scowled, Kathy gave him a teasing look. "My favorite is shrimp newburg."
"I can cook that." He grinned at her surprise. "What else?"
She arched a brow. "Lasagna."
Harley shrugged. "Mom was Italian. Done."
She threw up her hands in defeat. "If it tastes good, I'll eat it. I'm not picky."
"Really? Didn't your parents spoil you?"
Her expression darkened. "Hardly."
He backed away from the question. "Well, everyone should be spoiled a little. Dad's good at that, and he'll make me help."
She blinked again, and Harley got the impression she was fighting tears. She shook her finger at him. "Don't get too gung-ho, or I won't know how to handle it."
"Then I'll be careful." He could hardly wait to cook for Kathy. Why? he wondered. He'd better watch himself. He found it far too easy to want to please her. Probably because she was a stranger and temporary. At least, that's what he told himself.
*****
The longer she stayed, the more he liked her, and the more it ate at him that her friend and boss had cheated her out of so much money.
A week later, supper over, the three of them were sitting on the back patio, enjoying the evening and sipping one of the new wines they were experimenting with. Chewy curled on Kathy's lap, and she randomly stroked his fur. Two of the barn cats wove around her feet. Dad was telling her the glories of Mill Pond—all of the specialty farms and tourist events—when Kathy's phone jangled. She checked the ID and stared.
"What is it?" Harley asked.
"Heather. Why in the world would she call me?"
Uh-oh, his idea had seemed wonderful when he'd thought of it, but what would Kathy think?
Dad's eyes narrowed at Harley's expression. "As a boy, he always looked like that when he did something naughty. You might want to answer that."
She threw Harley a warning look, but put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
A tirade of noise followed. Kathy jerked, as though whip-lashed, then glared at him, and finally, grinned. When the noise stopped, she said, "I didn't send them. A friend of mine did. Wish I'd thought of it. Don't call me again." And she shut off her phone.
Dad frowned. "What happened?"
Kathy's gaze settled on Harley. "It seems Bryce sent Heather a huge bouquet of roses at work. The note said—Best Sex Ever—and everyone in the office is talking about it. Heather got called to the owner's office upstairs. He fired her. Bryce got called in next, and his promotion is a thing of the past."
Dad inhaled a long breath. He looked at Harley, then burst out laughing. "Brilliant!"
Harley knew Dad would approve. After all, he had Viking blood in his veins. Retribution was part of their DNA. His dad was a loving, jovial man, but a core of steel ran through him. Dad wasn't his worry. He darted a look Kathy's way. "I should have told you, but I just couldn't stop thinking about how bad they treated you."
Her expression softened. "No one's ever tried to defend me before. Thank you."
His heart stuttered, and he tried to shrug it off. "That's what friends are for."
"Then I wish I had more friends like you."
They poured another glass of wine to celebrate. The sun sank lower to the earth, and a half hour later, Dad yawned. "We worked too hard in the vineyards today. These old bones need to rest. I'm hitting the couch. You should take Kathy on the grand tour, teach her to love the grapes."
Harley smiled. His dad did love the grapes, the soil, everything about the vineyard. So did he.
Kathy stood. "A walk sounds great. I've been spending too much time in the office. Show me around."
"My pleasure." Harley extended his bent arm, and Kathy linked elbows with him. They set off.
He couldn't help it. He found himself blabbing about which grapes made which wines. Why the soil and temperatures worked so well here. How many barrels were stored in the warehouses, how many years it took to make aged wines. When he slowed down, reminded himself that most peoples' eyes glazed when he went on and on like this, Kathy would ask him a question that got him started all over again. By the time they returned to the house, he was talked out.
He looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't usually bore people with the glories of wine-making."
"I liked it. I like how your face lights up when you talk about it."
He grimaced. "Most people don't find it all that exciting."
She turned to him. Her hazel eyes caught the last of the evening light, coloring their centers more golden than usual. She'd pulled her long, honey-blonde hair back in a thick braid. She looked so beautiful, his breath caught in his throat. And then she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. "You're a good man. That's exciting enough for me."
His arms slid around her. She felt as perfect there as he'd dreamed. He bent his head, and she moved into his kiss. Warmth surged through him, and he couldn't imagine life without her. "Don't ever leave here. Stay with me. Stay forever."
She smiled. "We've only known each other a week."
"I don't care. No one's made me feel like this. Only you." He was pretty sure he'd never feel like this again. "Do you know anyone in Illinois?"
She shook her head. "No, but I need a job. I need to build up my savings again."
"Not if you marry me. We'll all be a team. We'll work together in the vineyard. You can do the books, and I'll cook for you and Dad."
She stared at him. "You don't even know me."
"Is your name Kathy?"
She nodded.
"Are you fun and wonderful, and do you make me feel good every time I look at you?"
She blinked. "Do I?"
"Every time, but you lived in the city. It must seem quiet here. You probably want more. And Dad would live with us. Most women wouldn't like that."
Her arms slid around his shoulders. "I love your dad."
"He loves you, too. So do I. Well, in a different way."
She leaned into him. "I want you."
"Really?" He'd better tread carefully. She hadn't said yes. "You don't really know me."
"I know everything I need to."
"Is that a yes?"
She pressed her cheek against his chest. "Yes."
He tugged her toward the house. "Let's tell Dad."
"Will he approve?"
"Are you kidding? He's been trying to throw us together every chance he gets."
When they clamored into the living room, Harley's dad shook his head. "Finally. It took you long enough. I asked your mother the second time I saw her."
"You never did have any patience."
Dad laughed. This time, he opened the champagne. The three of them clinked glasses and toasted to the future. Suddenly, it looked brighter.
Harley slowed for the curve that bordered the cemetery. Country roads rarely took a straight path. They meandered between farm fields and ancient oaks. That's why he liked them. When he'd straddled his namesake motorcycle late this morning, he'd set off for a Sunday ride. Dad could watch football all day without interruptions while he enjoyed the freedom of the road. He stopped at a deli in Mill Pond to buy picnic foods, then carted his stash to the lake and ended up running into a few people he knew. Marissa was there with her new husband. Harley liked the guy. He made Marissa happy. More friends showed up, and the day slipped away before he realized it.
Finally returning home, he found himself heading into the sunset, literally. But what a glorious sight! He always saluted the little cemetery at the curve in the road and looked for his mother's gravestone. It nestled under a wide-branched tree. Tonight, a young woman leaned against the granite slab, shoulders slumped, her hands covering her face. Her car was parked on the gravel drive, its flashers blinking. Was she in trouble? Stranded?
He made a U-turn and went back to the cemetary's drive. The woman's head snapped up at the sound of his bike's muted rumble, and alarm widened her hazel eyes. He cut the engine and put both hands in the air. "I saw your flashers and thought you might be in trouble."
She stood, her posture telling him she was ready to run. He did look a little scruffy. Hadn't shave lately. He'd have more than a five o'clock shadow. Couldn't remember the last time he got his hair trimmed. Dark and shaggy probably made her think jobless.
He grinned. "I'm not going to rob you." He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. "Can I call someone for you?" No service stations would be open on a Sunday, especially this late at night, but he should be able to get her car towed.
She pulled her own cell phone out of her jeans pocket, pushing it toward him, so that he'd see she could call for help. "A friend's already on his way. I'll be fine."
Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She didn't look like a girl who would soon be rescued. "I call bullshit. You'd be standing by the road, ready to wave your arms so your friend could see you, if you thought he'd show up soon."
She squared her shoulders. Her scowl looked ferocious. Not very intimidating. She was too damned pretty with flowing, blonde hair and a heart-shaped face. "I told him to look for the car's blinkers."
"If you say so, but it's going to get dark soon. When you're stranded out here with the owls and coyotes, remember someone tried to help you and you turned him away."
She bit her bottom lip. "Is there a town close by?"
"I left Mill Pond fifteen minutes ago. Do you need a ride there?"
She eyed the bike. A Harley obviously said Perverted Rebel to her. He might do better at putting her at ease if he rode a broom. Finally, she asked, "Is there a cheap motel?"
He shook his head. For the first time, he noticed the stacks of clothes in the back seat of her car. He looked at the license plate. Pennsylvania. "This is a tourist area. Most things are a little pricey. Are you stranded?"
"Just until I get my car fixed. I have a job waiting for me in Illinois. All I have to do is get there. I've been trying to travel on a budget."
A tiny one, he'd guess. He recognized a note of hysteria in her voice. No need to push her. "Grams will give you a room for the night. I'll drive you back to Mill Pond and introduce you."
"Your grandmother?" she asked.
"No, Tessa's, but everyone in town calls her Grams. She mothers us all." He smiled. "You'll like her. Everyone does."
The woman's shoulders relaxed. The look of desperation eased a little.
"I'm Harley," he said. "I own a vineyard ten minutes from here. Mill Pond is my home town."
She hugged her thin frame. "I'm Kathy. Thanks for stopping."
He motioned toward the gravestone. "Hope my mom's been nice to you. I usually visit her once a month."
A blush colored her neck and cheeks. "Your mom? Oh, sorry. I just needed a place to have a breakdown."
She didn't look the type to break down often. There was a steeliness about her that he liked. "Life gives us hard knocks sometimes. I never expected to lose Mom so soon." She'd battled cancer for two years. Now, he ran the vineyard with his dad. Between the two of them, they worked outdoors most of the time, only doing the minimum to the big, sprawling house they shared. That had been Mom's domain, and they weren't quite ready to fill her shoes.
"You live ten minutes away?" she asked.
He gave her a thoughtful look. "I live with my dad. You'd be welcome to stay with us, if the idea doesn't freak you out. If you don't feel comfortable in the main house, you could sleep on the couch in the office in the wine-tasting shop."
She studied him, hard. "And living with your dad doesn't slow you down? Do you bring girls back to your place?"
He caught her meaning. "Everyone around here knows everyone. Living at home doesn't matter, but I'm not into anyone anyway, so it's a moot point."
She looked more confused. "You like girls, don't you? I mean, you're a good-looking guy, the right age…."
"I was engaged once. We broke it off. She's married now, and I'm taking a sabbatical."
"So girls are off-limits?"
"For a while."
"In that case…." She started to her car and grabbed a few things from its front seat. "Going to your place would save you a trip to town and back. You're doing me a favor, and I appreciate it. Can I call someone to get my car?"
"I'll call Garth when we get you settled." He put her stuff in his bike's saddlebags and motioned for her to hop on behind him.
She looked nervous, but climbed on. She grabbed the seat and held tight, keeping as much distance between them as possible. He grinned when he took a curve and she had to reach for him. Warmth pulsed inside him. Unexpected. He'd taken plenty of girls for rides, and they'd been happy to cling to him, but none of them affected him. Why this girl?
It was dark when they pulled up to his garage. Lights glowed from the house's windows, spilling over the white stucco. The red-tiled roof finished the Spanish effect. Across the wide, asphalt driveway, the tasting room—same Spanish style—sat in spotlights. Harley motioned to each. "Take your pick. Where would you rather stay?"
Kathy's gaze went to the stone fireplace, visible in the front room. A man came to look out the window, smiling down at Harley. "Is that your dad?"
"I'm later than usual. He was probably beginning to wonder."
"He looks nice."
"A friendly warning—if you walk into that room, he'll fuss over you. It's his nature. He'll probably ask you a slew of questions, trying to decide if you'd make a good mother for my babies. He's been hinting for the last year that he doesn't have any grandchildren."
Kathy laughed. "Let's go see if I pass the test. Then I'll know if I should think about kids in the future."
"For real?"
She started to the house. "Would you make a good dad?"
"Our dog loves me."
"They say that's a sign." She waited for Harley to open the door for her, then lugged her stuff inside. When they entered the front room, the dog ran in happy circles around Kathy's feet.
Kathy bent to pet him. "A Chihuahua? You don't look the type."
"He was Mom's dog. He misses her. Besides, he speaks Spanish, fits the house."
She laughed.
Harley's dad beamed with pleasure. "You brought a girl home. At last."
"Don't get any ideas. Her car died, and she's stranded."
"No matter. Are hungry, child? Harley will fix you something."
She shook her head. "I'm fine."
Dad's schmoozing began. Before the end of the evening, Harley learned that Kathy was an accountant who'd barely escaped her roommate's boyfriend in one piece. When she'd told her roommate what happened, the girl shrugged and said, "Then move out. That way, Bryce can move in with me." They'd just gone together on the security deposit and move-in fees for the place, split the price of furniture, and gotten settled. Kathy's savings were mere fumes, and there was no way to get them back. Luckily, her friend's name was the only one on the lease, since she planned to stay there, and Kathy had only meant to room with her for a year or two.
"And your job?" Dad asked. "You lost that, too?"
"I worked with Heather. Her boyfriend was our office manager. Dating supposedly was against company policy. No one knew about them."
"You got scammed," Harley said.
"You think?" Her eyes misted, and she blinked quickly.
"At least you found another job in a hurry. Lesson learned." What else could he say? She'd trusted someone who was a scumbag and took advantage of her.
Dad pinched his lips together in a tight line. "I don't know when your new job starts, but Harley and I—we aren't so good at keeping the books. We manage, but that's all. Our quarterly report's coming up. If you'd help us with it, you could stay here until your car gets fixed."
Harley raised his eyebrows. Dad hadn't complained about quarterly reports before. But if this was Dad's way of offering Kathy a place to stay until she could move on, that was fine with him.
Kathy pursed her lips, thinking. "My new job doesn't start for two weeks. I could use extra money to cover my car repairs, so the answer's yes."
Dad's smile was too big. Harley looked at him suspiciously, but the old man could play innocent when he wanted to. Mom had been a spitfire, and his dad—a Swede—used charm and diplomacy to get his way. Harley had inherited his mom's coloring and his dad's size. And he'd been lucky enough to be loved by both of them.
"Do you cook?" Dad asked Kathy.
She grimaced. "Sorry, no."
"Aaah, but that's good. My son can create wonders in the kitchen. Tell us what you like, and he'll fix it for you."
When Harley scowled, Kathy gave him a teasing look. "My favorite is shrimp newburg."
"I can cook that." He grinned at her surprise. "What else?"
She arched a brow. "Lasagna."
Harley shrugged. "Mom was Italian. Done."
She threw up her hands in defeat. "If it tastes good, I'll eat it. I'm not picky."
"Really? Didn't your parents spoil you?"
Her expression darkened. "Hardly."
He backed away from the question. "Well, everyone should be spoiled a little. Dad's good at that, and he'll make me help."
She blinked again, and Harley got the impression she was fighting tears. She shook her finger at him. "Don't get too gung-ho, or I won't know how to handle it."
"Then I'll be careful." He could hardly wait to cook for Kathy. Why? he wondered. He'd better watch himself. He found it far too easy to want to please her. Probably because she was a stranger and temporary. At least, that's what he told himself.
*****
The longer she stayed, the more he liked her, and the more it ate at him that her friend and boss had cheated her out of so much money.
A week later, supper over, the three of them were sitting on the back patio, enjoying the evening and sipping one of the new wines they were experimenting with. Chewy curled on Kathy's lap, and she randomly stroked his fur. Two of the barn cats wove around her feet. Dad was telling her the glories of Mill Pond—all of the specialty farms and tourist events—when Kathy's phone jangled. She checked the ID and stared.
"What is it?" Harley asked.
"Heather. Why in the world would she call me?"
Uh-oh, his idea had seemed wonderful when he'd thought of it, but what would Kathy think?
Dad's eyes narrowed at Harley's expression. "As a boy, he always looked like that when he did something naughty. You might want to answer that."
She threw Harley a warning look, but put the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
A tirade of noise followed. Kathy jerked, as though whip-lashed, then glared at him, and finally, grinned. When the noise stopped, she said, "I didn't send them. A friend of mine did. Wish I'd thought of it. Don't call me again." And she shut off her phone.
Dad frowned. "What happened?"
Kathy's gaze settled on Harley. "It seems Bryce sent Heather a huge bouquet of roses at work. The note said—Best Sex Ever—and everyone in the office is talking about it. Heather got called to the owner's office upstairs. He fired her. Bryce got called in next, and his promotion is a thing of the past."
Dad inhaled a long breath. He looked at Harley, then burst out laughing. "Brilliant!"
Harley knew Dad would approve. After all, he had Viking blood in his veins. Retribution was part of their DNA. His dad was a loving, jovial man, but a core of steel ran through him. Dad wasn't his worry. He darted a look Kathy's way. "I should have told you, but I just couldn't stop thinking about how bad they treated you."
Her expression softened. "No one's ever tried to defend me before. Thank you."
His heart stuttered, and he tried to shrug it off. "That's what friends are for."
"Then I wish I had more friends like you."
They poured another glass of wine to celebrate. The sun sank lower to the earth, and a half hour later, Dad yawned. "We worked too hard in the vineyards today. These old bones need to rest. I'm hitting the couch. You should take Kathy on the grand tour, teach her to love the grapes."
Harley smiled. His dad did love the grapes, the soil, everything about the vineyard. So did he.
Kathy stood. "A walk sounds great. I've been spending too much time in the office. Show me around."
"My pleasure." Harley extended his bent arm, and Kathy linked elbows with him. They set off.
He couldn't help it. He found himself blabbing about which grapes made which wines. Why the soil and temperatures worked so well here. How many barrels were stored in the warehouses, how many years it took to make aged wines. When he slowed down, reminded himself that most peoples' eyes glazed when he went on and on like this, Kathy would ask him a question that got him started all over again. By the time they returned to the house, he was talked out.
He looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't usually bore people with the glories of wine-making."
"I liked it. I like how your face lights up when you talk about it."
He grimaced. "Most people don't find it all that exciting."
She turned to him. Her hazel eyes caught the last of the evening light, coloring their centers more golden than usual. She'd pulled her long, honey-blonde hair back in a thick braid. She looked so beautiful, his breath caught in his throat. And then she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. "You're a good man. That's exciting enough for me."
His arms slid around her. She felt as perfect there as he'd dreamed. He bent his head, and she moved into his kiss. Warmth surged through him, and he couldn't imagine life without her. "Don't ever leave here. Stay with me. Stay forever."
She smiled. "We've only known each other a week."
"I don't care. No one's made me feel like this. Only you." He was pretty sure he'd never feel like this again. "Do you know anyone in Illinois?"
She shook her head. "No, but I need a job. I need to build up my savings again."
"Not if you marry me. We'll all be a team. We'll work together in the vineyard. You can do the books, and I'll cook for you and Dad."
She stared at him. "You don't even know me."
"Is your name Kathy?"
She nodded.
"Are you fun and wonderful, and do you make me feel good every time I look at you?"
She blinked. "Do I?"
"Every time, but you lived in the city. It must seem quiet here. You probably want more. And Dad would live with us. Most women wouldn't like that."
Her arms slid around his shoulders. "I love your dad."
"He loves you, too. So do I. Well, in a different way."
She leaned into him. "I want you."
"Really?" He'd better tread carefully. She hadn't said yes. "You don't really know me."
"I know everything I need to."
"Is that a yes?"
She pressed her cheek against his chest. "Yes."
He tugged her toward the house. "Let's tell Dad."
"Will he approve?"
"Are you kidding? He's been trying to throw us together every chance he gets."
When they clamored into the living room, Harley's dad shook his head. "Finally. It took you long enough. I asked your mother the second time I saw her."
"You never did have any patience."
Dad laughed. This time, he opened the champagne. The three of them clinked glasses and toasted to the future. Suddenly, it looked brighter.