So Good: A Ribbon Ridge Novel (Love on the Vine Book 1) (10 page)

Bex came around the table near Brooke’s chair. “You should go out and join him.” She spoke quietly so that only Brooke could hear.

Brooke glanced over at her in mild surprise. Was she trying to push them together? Brooke didn’t really know what to say, so she stood up and helped instead. “Where do you want the food?” she asked.

Bex grabbed as many containers as she could. “We’ll put it in the kitchen so the guys can snack on the leftovers tomorrow.”

Brooke picked up some odds and ends and followed her.

Turning from the counter where she’d deposited her items, Bex winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be obnoxious. I just thought…well, Hayden said that Cam liked you.”

Brooke opened the fridge and put away the food she’d brought. “Doesn’t Cam like a lot of women?”

“Yes, but Hayden thought you might be different. And then when you went to help with the wineglasses, I’m afraid I jumped to the wrong conclusion that you maybe liked him too. Probably.” She closed her eyes and briefly massaged her forehead. When she looked at Brooke again, her gaze was clear and honest. “I really am sorry. It’s none of my business. I’ve known Cam a long time—just about as long as I’ve known Hayden—and I’d love to see him find a genuine girlfriend. Here, I’ve barely met you, and I’m being all pushy. Ugh!” She shook her head and smiled. “Terrible first impression. Forget I said anything. Please.”

Brooke could’ve been annoyed by Bex’s desire to meddle, but she was actually charmed. “It’s nice to know Cam has such good friends—he’s lucky. And I get it. My friends keep urging me to get a boyfriend too.” Okay, maybe not a boyfriend. She wondered how much she and Cam might have in common with regard to their unwillingness to seek commitment. Did he have an ex like she did?

Bex laughed and seemed to relax as she tucked the rest of the nonperishable food away in a cupboard. “I’m not sure he thinks he’s lucky, but we can be a tough crowd, especially when you throw in the rest of the Archers. It’s one big crazy—but happy—family.”

That sounded nice. Brooke had two sisters, one older and one younger, both of whom were married with children. Between them and her parents, there was no shortage of people extolling the virtues of committed relationships. Never mind that Brooke had tried that already and crashed and burned.

She thought about joining Cam outside. Why not? She was suddenly quite curious about why he was a player. Plus, there was still some Riesling to drink. “I think I’ll head out and help him finish the wine. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” She smiled at Bex. “I’d offer you a glass, but I have the impression wine isn’t your thing.”

Bex looked momentarily confused, her brow puckering. “Oh! The guys just give me crap because I’m a brewer, but I actually love wine. I’d absolutely be drinking some along with you if I wasn’t three and a half months pregnant.”

Brooke’s gaze dipped to Bex’s still-flat belly. A surge of envy followed quickly by a wave of sadness slammed into her. She’d never know what it would feel like to care for a burgeoning life inside of her. She’d never smile and nod knowingly at another woman who’d been there and done that.

Damn. Just when she thought she’d finally compartmentalized her infertility, the old feelings and the despair threatened to steal her breath, her equilibrium, her ability to simply finish a stupid conversation. Come on, Brooke, you can do this. “Congratulations.”
 

She knew she ought to make some chitchat about impending motherhood, but she just couldn’t do it. She could barely keep her face from crumbling.

“Thanks. We’re pretty excited.” Her hand fluttered against her belly. “We’ve been trying for a little while.”

And they’d been successful. It was strange how one could feel happiness, jealousy, and grief in the span of a single second. “That’s terrific.”
 

Brooke’s heart, already broken when she’d learned she couldn’t carry or even have a child of her own three years ago, shuddered anew. Someday—God, she hoped someday—she wouldn’t feel that awful pang of loss. It was dumb really. She shouldn’t be able to miss something she never had, right? Just something she’d desperately wanted with all of her heart.

“You okay?” Bex asked.

Brooke focused on the other woman. Her gaze was intent, concerned. She tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear as she took a step forward. Shit. Brooke wasn’t doing a very good job of compartmentalizing at all.

“I’m great. I was just realizing that I promised a friend of mine I’d meet her in a little bit. I guess I got swept away by your amazing lunch spread.” She summoned a smile and hoped it looked a hell of a lot better than it felt.

Bex nodded. “I hate when I forget stuff. Seems to happen more and more lately.” She laughed softly.

Brooke had to leave. Now. “Thanks again for lunch. It was great to meet you.” She turned toward the door.

“You too.”

Brooke left the kitchen. Jamie and Hayden were no longer at the table, but Cam was still outside on the deck. She ought to go say good-bye, but she couldn’t. She wanted—needed—to be alone. So she grabbed her sunglasses from the table and made her way to the front door.

“Aren’t you going to tell Cam you’re leaving?” Bex asked. She’d apparently followed Brooke out of the kitchen, which Brooke would’ve noticed if she weren’t acting like a total idiot.

“Uh, he looks deep in thought, and I really need to run. You can tell him I’ll talk to him next week. Thanks!” She rushed out before Bex could encourage her to stay or before that look of worry crept back into her gaze. Brooke had enough people—her friends, her family—who’d regarded her with pity over the last few years.

She didn’t need any more.

Chapter Seven

C
am pushed open the door of Taste, a wine bar that was closed tonight for a private party for a newish winery—Allen Drake. Keen to sample the competition, Cam went to as many of these kinds of events as he could. Not that they were really competition. Sure, they all wanted to be the next big producer, but the community was mostly supportive, and a win for one was a win for all.

The event was already bustling, and Cam recognized most of the faces in the room. There were small, round tables in the center plus a bar that ran along the windows facing Main and First Streets. The primary bar, where Allen was currently holding court, was at the back of the room.

Cam made his way to Allen, whom he’d known for several years. He was a former salesman like Cam, who’d decided to try his hand at crafting wine. He smiled when he saw Cam. “Hey, you made it.”

Cam shook his hand and grinned. “Of course. Is anyone else here going to tell you if it tastes like swill?”

The guy to Allen’s right, whose name currently escaped Cam, laughed. “Of course we will. In fact, I think your brother already did.”

Cam darted a few looks this way and that. He knew Luke had planned on stopping by, but didn’t see him. “Did Luke drink and dash?”

“Nah, he’s around here somewhere, I think,” Allen said. “He was looking for my vineyard manager. They might’ve gone in the back to get more wine.”

Probably. Luke always pitched in to help.

Allen motioned for one of the employees behind the bar to pour a glass for Cam. She filled the bowl with a dark pinot, enough for a healthy taste. Allen put his fingertips on the base of the glass and slid it to the edge of the granite. “I might regret this, but give it to me straight. Even if you think it is swill.”

Cam shook his head. “It won’t be.” He picked up the glass and swirled the liquid before inhaling its cherry and cassis scent. The nose was great, but would the taste hold up? He sipped and let the wine rest on his tongue a moment. He was immediately assaulted with cherry and then hints of coffee and truffle. The texture was silky, and the flavor lingered after he swallowed. It was, in a word, incredible. Jealousy snaked through him but was quickly overcome with happiness for Allen. “This is still young,” he said cautiously. “But it’s going to be a fruit bomb.”

Allen watched him expectantly. “Yeah, I think so too. Anything else?”

Cam considered drawing this out, but he knew what it felt like to be anxious about your brand-new wine. He shook his head at Allen. “Dude, it’s fucking awesome. You suck.”

Allen’s face split into a wide grin. He pushed his glasses up his nose and exhaled. “You almost had me going there.”

“Almost?”

“Hey, your opinion matters. You really like it?”

“It goes beyond that. I’m considering a long-term relationship with it.”

This made everyone howl with laughter. The guy next to Allen slapped him on the back. “Damn, Allen, now you know it’s good if Westcott’s going to give up his bachelor lifestyle.”

Cam laughed along with everyone, but bristled at always being labeled the consummate bachelor. Which made no sense. He had no problem with his lifestyle or his reputation. However, since he’d met Brooke, he’d started to wonder… He shook the thought right out of his head.

Cam steered the conversation to Allen’s wine—the quantity, when he was going to start selling it, what else he had to taste and so on. At one point, Luke emerged from the back and nodded toward Cam, but he didn’t join the group. Instead, he and Allen’s vineyard manager took a couple of stools by the window.

“Hello.” The single word, barely more than a breath really, came from the guy on Cam’s left. He was young—an intern at one of the larger wineries near Ribbon Ridge—and his head was turned toward the door.
 

Cam followed his line of sight and immediately saw what had drawn his reaction. Brooke was standing just inside. She looked around the room, taking stock. Cam did the same—but only of her. Her blond hair was loose, hanging in silky curls to her shoulders. She wore a cobalt-and-turquoise-striped maxi dress with silver sandals peeking out beneath the hem. He was utterly captivated. Like the guy next to him, apparently.

“Excuse me,” the intern said, taking off toward Brooke.

The jealousy Cam had felt for the wine earlier came back tenfold, and this time it didn’t immediately dissipate. He watched as the guy approached Brooke and greeted her. She smiled at him, her eyes crinkling at the sides and her dimples creasing. Cam reacted deep in his gut, wanting nothing more than to walk over to her and stake his claim.

Only he didn’t have one.

Over the past week, since she’d toured the winery and vineyard, they’d kept their communication strictly business—all e-mail. She’d left without saying good-bye last Saturday, and when Cam had pressed Bex for why she’d left, Bex had only said that Brooke had gone to meet a friend. He’d half expected her to join him on the deck so they could finish that Riesling together, but then he hadn’t actually invited her. Because he was trying to keep things business-oriented instead of flirty, something he found hard to do when he was with her. Away from her, he could ignore that he was insanely attracted to her.
 

He turned to the bar and asked for a full glass of the pinot. Then he asked for another. Before he could think better of it, he swooped up both glasses and beelined for Brooke and her admirer.

As he neared, she saw him, her eyes widening briefly in recognition, then slanting at the edges as she smiled. She seemed happy to see him.

“Cameron! Just the guy I was looking for.” She turned to the intern and flashed him an apologetic look. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to talk shop with one of my clients.”
 

Always eager to help someone out, he glanced somewhat apologetically at the intern as he offered Brooke one of the glasses. “I come bearing wine.”

“Excellent.” She tossed the intern a look and said, “Ciao,” as she looped her arm through Cam’s. The connection was instant and magnetic and made him wonder if strictly business was going to be possible tonight.
 

He let her lead him across the room, threading through tables and skirting people. They passed Luke and his pal. Luke raised an eyebrow, not much, but enough for Cam to catch it. Cam didn’t respond verbally or otherwise.
 

She stopped at the end of the bar along the window, at the two seats closest to the back corner. “He didn’t follow us, did he?” she asked in a low tone.

Cam had only just recovered from her touch to find she was removing her arm. That was too bad. He looked back toward where they’d started. The intern was still standing there, wearing a bemused expression. “No, he didn’t.”