Книга - A Stonecreek Christmas Reunion

A Stonecreek Christmas Reunion
Michelle Major


“Marry me, Maggie.”The conclusion of Maggie & Griffin’s trilogyMayor Maggie Spencer is too busy prepping Stonecreek for its holiday spectacular to pine over lost love Griffin Stone. Until he returns—this time with a son! Griffin couldn’t say no to becoming the boy’s guardian. Neither can he say goodbye to Maggie. As Christmas nears, there’s only one thing he wants to say to his first and only love: “Forever.”







“Marry me, Maggie.”

The conclusion of Maggie & Griffin’s trilogy

Mayor Maggie Spencer is too busy prepping Stonecreek for its holiday spectacular to pine over lost love Griffin Stone. Until he returns—this time with a son! Griffin couldn’t say no to becoming the boy’s guardian. Neither can he say goodbye to Maggie. As Christmas nears, there’s only one thing he wants to say to his first and only love: “Forever.”


MICHELLE MAJOR grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at michellemajor.com (http://www.michellemajor.com).


Also by Michelle Major (#ufd7b6a34-8da0-567b-aac3-bdc22955640d)

Second Chance in StonecreekFalling for the Wrong Brother

Coming Home to CrimsonSleigh Bells in CrimsonRomancing the WallflowerChristmas on Crimson MountainAlways the Best ManA Baby and a Betrothal

Her Soldier of Fortune

A Fortune in Waiting

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


A Stonecreek Christmas Reunion

Michelle Major






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07835-1

A STONECREEK CHRISTMAS REUNION

© 2018 Michelle Major

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To the True Love readers—

thank you for inviting me into your reading lives.

It’s a great honour.


Contents

Cover (#u7e1201a6-a1a4-5139-ba0c-16c006145b2e)

Back Cover Text (#uff3467a9-677b-5838-8ce5-1a177674701a)

About the Author (#u33126d81-92ae-567c-ba39-a5f0a710ad07)

Booklist (#u33faeb22-277d-59f0-ac30-39b67ba627ee)

Title Page (#ue36d3742-0cbe-5925-b912-ba2ed144a655)

Copyright (#ubb030fb3-705c-5a32-b363-c0baa80fbde3)

Dedication (#uce219750-4b7e-5edf-b72d-abe56a3018ed)

Chapter One (#u8cd9b6fa-e246-5216-94c9-250330b609c7)

Chapter Two (#u86ce3fbe-f7f9-5957-afe3-3c0f791a26b2)

Chapter Three (#u3cf0eb79-51d5-56a2-9e54-f4ccb6b35916)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ufd7b6a34-8da0-567b-aac3-bdc22955640d)

“More lights.”

Maggie Spencer surveyed the work taking place in the town square, a mix of confidence and anxiety spiraling through her. Her small town of Stonecreek, Oregon, was about to be thrust into the national spotlight.

Or at least the social media spotlight. LiveSoft, a wildly successful software and mobile app development company, was searching for a new location for its company headquarters. The over-the-top lifestyle in Los Angeles, their current location, clashed with the app’s branding and corporate culture. LiveSoft was all about using technology to slow down and simplify life. LA wasn’t a great place for that.

So in conjunction with a request for proposals, the company had launched a marketing campaign during which its social media followers would help determine which Pacific Northwest city would be the best fit for a company move.

As Stonecreek’s recently reelected mayor, Maggie was determined to make sure her town was chosen and had been working around the clock since the election to that end. Stonecreek had arrived late to the proverbial party, finding out about the proposal deadline only a week before submissions were due. But she’d been thrilled to learn just before Thanksgiving that her town had been short-listed by the company’s CEO.

And why not? Stonecreek was only an hour south of Portland and she liked to think the community boasted the potential workforce, opportunity for growth and work-life balance LiveSoft had outlined in their preferences. The company was best known for its mobile app that claimed to “balance internal life with the outer world.” Of course, she had yet to download the app herself, but it was on her to-do list along with a million other items.

“We’ve already added two dozen extra strands.” Jacob Snow, head of the town’s maintenance department, had been coordinating the town’s holiday decorations for the past two weeks. “At this rate you’re going to be able to see this place from the moon.”

“There’s no such thing as too festive,” Maggie told him.

“You ever seen that National Lampoon Christmas movie?” Jacob asked with a soft chuckle. “I feel like Clark Griswold out here.”

Maggie frowned, looking around at all the activity with fresh eyes. The entire town square was draped with lights while a huge, elaborately decorated fir tree stood in the center of the park waiting for tonight’s tree-lighting ceremony. An almost fifteen-foot tall menorah had been given pride of place in front of the main archway into the square, ready to be lit on each of Chanukah’s eight nights. Wreaths had been draped over every lamppost and nearly life-size nutcrackers lined the main path. In addition to a makeshift stable that had been built to house the nativity-scene animals, there was a display of Santa riding his sleigh, complete with reindeer painted by the high school’s art department, and all the planters situated through the park burst with oversize ornaments and colorful dreidels.

“Oh, my.” She clasped a hand to her chest when her heart started beating out of control. “Is it too much? Our theme is winter wonderland. I don’t want it to be gaudy. Are we trying too hard? It has to look effortless, like the holidays in a TV movie. Charming and quaint, not over-the-top. Should we take down some of the lights? What about the live manger? I knew those goats would cause trouble.”

Jacob stared at her for several seconds then climbed down from the ladder. He’d been working for the town since Maggie was a girl, hired when her grandmother had been mayor.

He’d never married and rarely dated as far as Maggie knew. In fact, Jacob Snow was a bit of a mystery, keeping the town running smoothly but rarely participating in the myriad of festivals and fairs that delineated the seasons in Stonecreek throughout the year. Other than his silver-white hair, he looked very much like he had twenty years ago when Maggie first met him.

“Slow down. It will be beautiful,” he said, awkwardly patting her shoulder like he knew she needed comfort but wasn’t sure how to offer it. “Like it always is.”

“This year is different,” Maggie whispered. “It matters more.”

“Because of that new company thinking of coming here?” He reached for another strand of lights.

She nodded. “LiveSoft is one of the fastest-growing technology companies in the region. It would mean new jobs and increased tax revenue for the town. We could fund programs for impacted kids in the school district. Some of those maintenance requests you’ve put in would be approved.”

“Like a new snowplow?” he suggested with a wink.

“Exactly.” She drew in a slow breath. “I’m freaking out.”

Jacob smiled. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“There’s no reason for me to freak out, right?”

“None at all.”

“But there’s so much I want to do for Stonecreek. Now that I’m mayor—”

“You’ve been the mayor for two years,” he reminded her. “You were reelected by a landslide last month.”

She sighed. “Yes, but it feels different now. I feel like the town elected me and not Vivian Spencer’s granddaughter. It changes everything.”

Maggie had finally stepped out from behind the long shadow her grandmother cast. The Spencers had been one of Stonecreek’s most powerful families since the town was founded in the mid–eighteen hundreds. But Maggie’s grandma had taken their leadership to a whole new level. As soon as Grammy married into the family, she’d made it her mission to ensure the Spencer name was synonymous with Stonecreek.

Grammy had been the biggest force in Maggie’s life, especially after she’d stepped in to help when Maggie’s mother died eleven years ago. Maggie owed Grammy so much—they all did—but she also wanted a chance to make her own mark on the town. She loved this community.

Although she’d won the election, the months leading up to it had been tumultuous to say the least. Her opponent had been Jason Stone, cousin of her ex-fiancé Trevor who she’d left at the altar last spring when she’d discovered he’d been cheating on her.

As if that didn’t complicate things enough, she’d then fallen for Trevor’s brother Griffin, the black-sheep of the Stone family, who’d returned to town to work on the vineyard the family owned and operated outside town. When Griffin broke her heart a little over a month ago, it had made her question everything.

Everything except her dedication to the town, which was why she had to do an amazing job as mayor. Her work was everything to her now. She might be a dismal failure at love, but she could succeed at this.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s changed,” Jacob told her gently. “I’ve known you since you were a wee girl, Ms. Maggie. You were always the apple of your grandmother’s eye. She wouldn’t have encouraged you the way she did if she didn’t think you could handle it. I see how hard you’re working for the town. Everyone around here does, and we appreciate it.”

“Thanks, Jacob.” Emotion clogged Maggie’s throat. “I’m going to go check on Dora Gianelli at the bakery. It’s the first business we’re spotlighting as part of the campaign. What says holidays more than hot chocolate and a Christmas cookie?”

“Cocktail weenies and a beer?” he suggested.

She nudged his arm, the tension in her shoulders relaxing as she grinned. “When are you going to come to Christmas with our family? There’s plenty of room.”

“Vivian likes to keep things private,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his whiskered jaw.

“Grammy would love to have you join us,” Maggie countered, even though she’d never discussed the matter with her grandmother.

“She never mentioned it to me.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “She gets busy around this time of year. I’m not going to force you, but keep it in mind, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed. “I’ve got one more string of lights to hang.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to comment. “Trust me on this. One more strand will be the perfect amount.”

She nodded. “I’ll see you later tonight at the tree lighting.”

“The whole town will be here to make you look good.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw once more. “I may even shave for the occasion.”

She leaned in and bussed him on the cheek. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Maggie watched for another minute as he climbed the ladder, feeling marginally better that she could accomplish her goal. There was no reason LiveSoft wouldn’t want to come to Stonecreek. Nestled in the heart of Central Oregon’s Willamette Valley, the town had great restaurants, outdoor activities, a fantastic school system and tight-knit community.

Groaning softly, Maggie realized she was becoming a bit too obsessed with work when even her internal thoughts made her sound like a billboard for the town.

She turned to head across the town square toward the bakery only to find Griffin Stone blocking her path.

He looked as handsome as ever, the bright afternoon sunlight shining off his dark blond hair. He wore a flannel button-down, faded jeans and work boots. She couldn’t see his green eyes because of the sunglasses perched on his nose, but the set of his jaw and the way his broad shoulders remained rigid told her this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

Fine. Maggie wasn’t in the mood for easy when it came to Griffin. She’d had plenty of time to get over him. She was over him so she could certainly manage a few words without losing her mind.

“I’m busy,” she said and started down the path that would take her out the west gate of the town square. Stonecreek Sweets was on the north end, but she told herself she needed the exercise walking around the block would give her. Just because she could handle talking to Griffin didn’t mean she wanted to handle it.

“You can’t avoid me forever,” came his rough reply from behind her.

“I can try,” she said over her shoulder and quickened her pace. It didn’t matter. Griffin caught up with her in a few long strides.

“Maggie, stop.” He reached for her arm, but she yanked away.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

He held up his hands, palms out. “Fine. Okay. Sorry.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s fine,” she lied.

“I called you.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking past her. “Eventually.”

She sniffed. “I blocked your number. Take a hint.”

“This isn’t you,” he said, glancing back at her.

“Oh, yes,” she shot back. “This is me. You know how I’m sure of that? Because I never left. I’ve been here the whole time. Some of us don’t have the luxury to take off when things get too real, Griffin.”

“That’s not what happened. It’s complica—”

“Don’t say complicated. That word is off-limits with us,” she told him. “Along with apologies. Remember?”

“I remember everything.”

Despite her resolve to hate this man, his words felt like a caress against her skin, a secret promise and one she knew he could fulfill with remarkable skill. All the more reason to hold tight to her willpower.

“Go away,” she said, not bothering to try to hide the pain from her voice. Let him understand he hurt her. That was all on him.

He sighed. “Give me a chance to explain.”

“I don’t need an explanation. You ran off to your ex-girlfriend. Sends a pretty clear message, you know?”

“I called,” he repeated.

“Almost two weeks after you left.”

“Things were crazy and I—”

“You said you loved me,” she blurted, and it felt like sandpaper coated her throat. “Here’s some advice for next time. Don’t say ‘I love you’ if it doesn’t mean anything.” She took a step closer to him, ignoring the tears that sprang to her eyes. So much for being unaffected. Maybe what she needed to truly move on was to get this out of her system. “If you love someone, you tell them everything. Not weeks later or when it’s convenient. I don’t know what happened between you and Cassie, and I don’t care. Go to her again if that’s what she needs. We’re finished, Griffin.”

“She died.”

Maggie drew in a sharp breath and watched as Griffin pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. His eyes were sad, almost hollow, and darn it all if she didn’t want to reach out to him, offer whatever comfort she could.

But no. It was too late for that.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know you loved her.”

“I cared about her,” he corrected. “I love you.”

She shook her head. “Not in the way I needed you to.”

There was the truth of it, and when he took a small step back like she’d hit him, she knew he felt the impact as much as she did.

He lifted a hand and used his thumb to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Are you staying in Stonecreek?” she asked, because she had to know.

“I’m not sure yet.” He cleared his throat. “There are extenuating circumstances.”

She huffed out a humorless laugh. “I imagine one might even call them ‘complications.’”

“One might,” he conceded with a nod.

“Good luck with wherever life takes you.” It was difficult to get the words out, but she even managed a small half smile to go with them.

“This can’t be the end.”

“We were naive to think it ever would have worked out between us.”

He shook his head. “You know that’s not true. Maggie, please.”

“Please what, Griffin?” She threw up her hands. “What exactly do you want from me at this point?”

“I want another chance.”

“No.” She fisted her hands at her sides, her fingernails digging into the fleshy center of each palm until it hurt. Physical pain to mask another emotional hit. Of course, a part of her wanted to give in. It would be so easy. She could take one step forward and be in his arms again.

Except he was still holding back. She didn’t know what it was or understand why, but she could almost see the barrier that surrounded him.

“I’ve got to go,” she told him. “The tree lighting is tonight and it’s a big deal this year.”

“I heard about LiveSoft. I’m sure you’ll put on quite a show for them.”

“Yes, well...the show must go on and all of that. Goodbye, Griffin.”

His jaw tightened. “I won’t say goodbye,” he whispered.

“That doesn’t change me leaving,” she said and walked away without looking back.

* * *

Griffin returned to the vineyard, his mood as black as a starless sky at midnight. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Maggie. He thought he’d understood how mad she was, but other than that one moment when tears had filled her eyes, she’d been cold more than anything.

It had been like talking to some kind of vintage automaton, and the ice in her eyes when she looked at him made frustration curl along the base of his spine.

He kicked a piece of loose gravel in the driveway in front of his mother’s house. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth from the rain that was so typical this time of year. He drew in a deep breath, hoping the earthy smells would ground him, as they always had in the past.

When he’d left home at eighteen after that final, awful fight with his father, Griffin had never expected to return. As much as he loved the vineyard, Dave Stone had made it clear that his oldest son would never be worthy of having any place in the family business.

Griffin still didn’t understand the animosity that had simmered between him and his dad back then. Yes, his mother had given him an explanation about his dad feeling trapped by her unexpected pregnancy and taking out his frustration on his older son. But Griffin couldn’t imagine punishing a child for the things in life that didn’t work out the way his dad wanted them to.

Especially now.

He’d been home only a day and had yet to talk to Marcus Sanchez, Harvest Vineyard’s CEO, who’d announced plans to step away from his position right before Griffin left for Seattle. Griffin had no idea if Marcus still wanted him to take over the business, or if his abrupt departure had burned bridges with more than just Maggie.

As much as he wanted to get his former life back on track, he understood nothing would ever be the same. With another glance at the fields stretching out below the hillside, he headed for the house.

His mother, Jana, greeted him at the door, one finger lifted to her lips.

“Is he okay?” Griffin whispered, unfamiliar panic making the hair on his arms stand on end.

“Sleeping,” she mouthed then motioned him into the house.

They walked through the foyer, and she stopped at the edge of the dining room.

Griffin’s eyes widened as he took in the antique cherry table, covered with various blankets and sheets.

“In there?” he asked.

She gave him another strident finger to her mouth then led the way toward the back of the house and the big farmhouse kitchen that had been remodeled when he and his brother, Trevor, were in high school.

“I checked on him about ten minutes ago,” she said, her delicate brows furrowing. “He was fast asleep, clutching that ratty blanket he carries everywhere.”

“He calls the thing Chip,” Griffin told her. “You never would have let Trevor and me cover the dining room table with blankets. As I remember, that room was strictly off-limits.”

“I had to keep one room sacred from you heathens,” she said with an equal mix of humor and affection. “Besides, neither you nor your brother dealt with anything near the trauma that boy has.” She pulled a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator and glanced over her shoulder. “I heard him last night.”

Griffin nodded, his gut tightening at the memory. “The nightmares are a regular thing since the funeral. He has to be exhausted.”

“What are you going to do?” She poured two glasses of tea.

If he had a quarter for every time he’d asked himself the same question over the past few weeks...

When his ex-girlfriend and longtime friend, Cassie Barlow, had paid him a surprise visit in early October, she’d given no indication she was secretly interviewing him for the role of guardian for her four-year-old son, Joey. According to what she’d told him when he arrived in Seattle over a month ago, she hadn’t known either.

Treatment for the breast cancer diagnosis she’d received over the summer had seemed straightforward, a course of chemo and radiation and she’d been donning her own pink ribbon as a survivor. Then they’d discovered the cancer had metastasized throughout her body and within weeks, her prognosis had gone from sunny to “put your affairs in order.”

Being an eternal optimist, Cassie had still believed she could beat the disease. It wasn’t until hospice intervened that she’d called Griffin. He’d arrived at her bedside only to find out about her wishes for Joey.

The boy was polite and respectful but hadn’t warmed to Griffin at any point. Not that Griffin blamed him. He’d tried to convince Cassie there must be someone more appropriate for Joey than he was, but she’d been adamant. He’d managed to have her moved home with round-the-clock care at the end and then spent four agonizing weeks sitting by her bed and helping the nurses care for her before she’d slipped away peacefully late one night. He’d hoped the peace of her death might make things easier for Joey.

Could anything lessen the pain and trauma of a young child watching his mother die?

The night of the funeral had been the first time Joey had woken screaming and thrashing in his bed. The episode had taken years off Griffin’s life, but now he was used to the unsettling incidents. He’d wake within seconds of hearing the boy and bound to his bedside to comfort him. It was the only time Joey allowed himself to be touched.

It made Griffin’s heart break to feel that small body trembling in his arms and damned if he had any idea how to help the boy.

“I called Dr. Cunningham earlier,” he told his mother, massaging his hand against the back of his neck. “To say he was surprised to hear from me would be the understatement of the year.”

She smiled. “The thought of you calling your former pediatrician for advice is fairly shocking.”

“I get it. He gave me the names of a couple of child psychologists to call. I’ll try them on Monday morning. I think it would help if Joey had someone to talk to. I know it would help me.”

“You’re doing a good job,” she said, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“Only you could say that at this point.” He laughed. “I’ve managed to muck up every part of my life once again. Maggie is done with me, and I can’t imagine how Marcus took my absence.”

Jana leaned one hip against the counter. “It would have helped if you’d let me talk to him about why you left.”

Griffin shook his head. “I couldn’t deal with people knowing when I wasn’t sure what exactly was going to happen with Joey.”

“Would you have stayed in Seattle if he’d put up a fight about coming here?”

“Of course. At least for a while. Hell, I almost wish he had resisted. Or showed any kind of emotion. It was like the sicker Cassie got, the more Joey retreated into his shell. I should have done more to bond with him, but I was so focused on her.”

“She was lucky to have you,” his mother told him.

“It’s so unfair,” he muttered. “She seemed happy and healthy when she came to visit in the fall. Maybe I’m not the right person to judge. Cassie and I were both a bit of a mess when we were together.”

“Which is perhaps why the relationship didn’t work?” She sipped her tea. “You never talked much about her.”

He shrugged. “We dated for six months when we were in our early twenties. To be honest, we were too much alike to be together in that way. I was drinking a lot and Cassie...” He closed his eyes as he remembered some of the wild times they’d had together. The memories were hazy and left him with a sick pit in his stomach. “Cassie had other vices. But she finally had her life on track, and she was a great mom.”

“He’s a sweet boy.”

Panic tightened like a noose around Griffin’s chest. “Am I going to screw him up, Mom? Should I have stayed in Seattle?”

“What do you think?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know.” He downed the glass of tea then set in on the counter, but the cool liquid did nothing to ease the burning in his chest. “Actually, I do know. He’ll be better here, or at least I will, and that has to be better for him.” He met his mother’s gentle gaze. “I don’t know how I could face this without you.”

“I’m here for whatever you need.”

Before Cassie’s summons, Griffin had been staying in the efficiency apartment above the barn on the property. He’d planned to rent a place in town so that he and Maggie could have more privacy. Now he was back in his childhood bedroom, with Joey across the hall in Trevor’s room. It had made the most sense logistically so that his mom could help with the boy.

“I want to be a part of Harvest,” he told her. “This is my home. The grapes are in my blood.”

“I know,” she murmured.

“But Joey has to be my first priority.”

“Yes,” his mother agreed without hesitation.

“What does that mean for the CEO position?”

She lifted the pitcher and refilled his glass. “Your dad managed the company and his family. Being a father doesn’t mean you can’t run the vineyard as well if that’s what you want.”

“A father,” Griffin repeated, a little stunned at the words.

“That’s what you’ll be to him. We’re his family now.”

Griffin nodded. Cassie had told him she didn’t know who Joey’s father was. She’d been an only child and her parents had died in a car crash when she was seventeen. She had no siblings and no relationship with any extended family.

“I need to talk to Trevor,” he said, almost to himself.

“He’s still angry at you for leaving.” Jana’s mouth pulled down at the corners. “At Marcus for wanting to wait for you to take over his job and at me for supporting him in that decision.”

“Maybe Trevor has a point.”

His mother shook her head. “He’ll understand once you explain about Joey. I’m surprised the news didn’t sway Maggie.”

Griffin looked out the kitchen window. It overlooked the backyard, which included a large flagstone patio, built-in grill, seating area and a stone fire pit. Beyond that was an expansive yard with ornamental grasses and beds of perennials. It was the only part of the property they kept properly manicured.

He’d have to build a play set for Joey, as the one he and Trevor had used had been removed years ago. Maybe a tree house too. He’d always wanted one in the big maple tree in the corner, but his father never had time.

“I didn’t mention it,” he said, turning his back to his mom.

“Griffin.” The word was a soft admonishment.

“I couldn’t guilt her into taking me back.”

“You hurt her badly.”

“I get that.” He felt a muscle tick in his jaw and pressed two fingers to it. “Maybe I didn’t understand while I was in Seattle, but I do now.”

“So you’re going to let her go?”

He squeezed shut his eyes then opened them again. “What other choice do I have?”

“You could fight for her.”

“What do I have to offer?” He lifted a hand, ticking off all the areas of his life that were in chaos. “I’m the guardian of a boy who just lost his only parent and will barely make eye contact with me. I have no actual job at the moment and I’m back to living with my mom.”

“Maggie moved in with her father when she rented her house before the wedding.”

“That’s temporary.”

“So is this,” she reminded him. “You have a job if you want it, Griffin. You have a place at Harvest. You always have.”

He laughed at the absurdity of that statement. “Not when Dad was alive.”

“He would have come around eventually,” his mother insisted.

“Doubtful.”

“This isn’t about your father. You love Maggie.”

“Who knows if what I felt was even real. I’m not sure why I thought I’d be able to make a relationship like that work in the first place. My track record is spotty at best.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

He stepped forward and drew his mom in for a quick hug. “You give me too much.”

A faint sound drew his attention to the far side of the room. Joey stood in the doorway, clutching his blanket in one hand with his other thumb shoved in his mouth.

“Look who’s awake,” Jana murmured with a smile.

“Hey, buddy.” Griffin plastered the biggest, brightest smile he could manage onto his face. “Did you have a nice nap?”

The boy shrugged.

“Would you like to make some cookies?” Griffin’s mother asked. “I have ingredients for chocolate chip or peanut butter. Which do you like best?”

Joey stared at her for a moment then popped his thumb out of his mouth. “Peanut butter.”

Jana let out what sounded to Griffin like a relieved sigh. She’d probably wondered if the boy would even answer her. “Peanut butter it is.”

Joey stepped into the kitchen, the corner of his tattered blanket trailing across the travertine tiles. “Are you going to make cookies?” he asked Griffin.

“Um...” Griffin glanced at his mother then back to Joey. “I’d love to, but I need to do a walk-through of the vines before I meet with Marcus...” He paused, then clarified, “He’s the man who runs the vineyard right now and I’m going to help with his job now that we’re here to stay.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” his mother whispered, squeezing his arm on the way to the pantry.

“I want to come with you,” the boy mumbled.

Jana stilled.

“Are you sure?” Griffin scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I’m just walking through fields, checking on rows of grapevines. Your... My... Ms. Jana here is offering an amazing afternoon filled with sugar and chocolate chips and—”

“I like it outside,” Joey said simply.

Griffin glanced at his mother, who smiled and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “All those years when you’d try to follow your dad around while he worked. Who would have ever thought you’d be in his shoes?”

She meant the words as a compliment. A fond reminiscence of her late husband. Because of that, Griffin didn’t correct her. But he wanted to. He wanted to shout and rail that he was nothing like his dad. If Joey wanted to shadow him in the fields, he’d let him and the afternoon wouldn’t be filled with lectures and admonishments.

“Do you have boots?”

“Nope,” came the boy’s answer.

“Your gym shoes will suffice for now, but you’ll need something sturdier as the weather gets colder.”

“What’s sur-fice?” the boy asked, his little brows furrowing.

“They’ll be okay until we get you new shoes,” Griffin clarified.

“Can the new ones have basketballs on them?”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

“Does that mean yes or no?”

Jana laughed then covered it with a cough. Griffin shot her a glare then returned his attention to Joey.

“It means I’ll try,” he told the boy.

Joey cocked his head, like a puppy studying his owner after being told to sit for the first time. The seconds ticked by, but Griffin didn’t dare move. Somehow this moment felt like a test, and he’d never been great at tests.

“Okay,” his new ward answered finally, and the tightness in Griffin’s chest eased slightly.

Maybe trying really would be good enough.

“I’ll have cookies waiting when you get back,” his mom promised.

“Thanks,” he told her and hoped she realized it was for so much more than just the promise of cookies.

His first instinct was to take Joey’s hand, but he worried that would cause the boy to shut down. So he inclined his head toward the door. “Follow me and pay attention. Today is your first lesson as an apprentice vintner.”

Joey fell into step a pace behind him. “What’s a vintner?”

“Someone who makes wine.”

“What’s wine?”

Griffin shook his head as he led the way out the front door and started toward the hill that would take them down to the estate field, Inception, the first his father had planted. “It’s grape juice for adults.”

“I like chocolate milk,” Joey reported.

“Of course you do.” The boy had no idea what he was talking about, but he was talking. The mere fact made Griffin smile for the first time in weeks.

With a little luck, he’d get his life back on track sooner than later.


Chapter Two (#ufd7b6a34-8da0-567b-aac3-bdc22955640d)

Maggie glanced around the illuminated town square later that night. Just as Jacob promised, everything looked perfect. She was relieved and grateful that so many residents had attended the lighting of the town Christmas tree and were now taking part in the Winter Wonderland festival. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of which event was happening on what night. Stonecreek’s community calendar was as jam-packed as a socialite’s in the middle of the Season.

But they were a small town without any big industry or corporation to anchor them. Tourism was a huge deal, all year round. The popularity of Harvest Vineyard helped with that, especially during the fall. That fact didn’t make her breakup with Griffin any easier, just as it had complicated calling off the wedding to Trevor in the spring. Somehow she and their mother had managed to keep a friendly working relationship. Jana Stone had even become something of a mentor to Maggie, although they hadn’t spoken much in the weeks since Griffin left for Seattle.

She hoped that could change now that he’d returned, whether or not he chose to stay. Maggie liked having an experienced woman to talk to and bounce ideas off since she was trying to pull back from discussing town business with her grandmother.

Grammy meant well but it was often difficult for her to remember that she’d retired from the position of mayor, and although Maggie loved her, she wouldn’t be a puppet to her grandmother’s whims regarding how the town should be run.

“Everything looks beautiful.”

Maggie whirled around to find her grandmother standing directly behind her, Christian Milken, the CEO of LiveSoft, at her side.

Grammy frowned. “Mary Margaret, are you blushing?”

Maggie pressed a hand to her cheek and smiled at them both. “No, of course not. I think it’s the cold.”

“It’s still nearly fifty degrees,” her grandmother pointed out. “Unseasonably warm for December.”

“I’m wearing a coat,” Maggie said, even though the light jacket she’d worn over her red fit-and-flare dress offered little warmth, as it was more for fashion than function. She shrugged out of it anyway.

“That’s a lovely dress,” Christian said.

“Thanks.”

“I’m curious to know what you were thinking of just then.” Grammy shook her head and lowered her voice to a whisper. “No time to sit on your laurels, girly. We started off the competition with a bang but we’ll need to keep up the full-court press if we’re going to convince LiveSoft to choose Stonecreek.”

“Right.” Maggie offered an awkward smile to Christian. Even Grammy’s quiet voice had a way of carrying. Now she really was blushing, embarrassed that her grandmother had so quickly and carelessly reduced an evening of holiday cheer to something almost mercenary in nature.

Yes, she wanted to win the competition—her town could use the influx of revenue and jobs. What town couldn’t?

But tonight was also about having fun and kicking off the holiday season. Maggie loved Christmas. Some of her fondest memories from childhood, before her mother’s death, were of how special the holidays had been. They’d cut down a real tree out in the woods every year, strung popcorn as garland and sung carols around the fire. Her mom had been a fantastic baker, and Maggie had been so proud to deliver cookies to neighbors and friends.

She’d tried her best to keep some of the family traditions alive once her mom died, but it hadn’t been easy. Then she’d gotten busy with her own life and it felt like her family had lost something precious. She’d moved back to her house two weeks ago when the tenants she’d rented it to had decided to return to Alabama a few months early. But she’d vowed to make this Christmas extra special for her younger siblings, Morgan and Ben, and their father. Along with her extra work on the town’s campaign for LiveSoft, she hoped to keep herself so busy she wouldn’t have any time to miss Griffin.

“I need to talk to Dora about the uneven icing on her cookies,” Grammy said, already looking past Maggie. “Mary Margaret, entertain Christian please.” Without waiting for an answer, Vivian walked away, much like Maggie imagined the queen would after giving an order to one of her faithful servants.

“I used to know how to juggle,” she told Christian with a shrug. “But I’m pretty rusty and fresh out of props.”

“Know any magic tricks?” he asked, raising a thick brow. “Or a good knock-knock joke?”

Maggie laughed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. But I do know the ladies over at the high school boosters’ booth make the best hot chocolate in town. Would you like to join me for a cup?”

“That sounds perfect.”

She glanced at Christian out of the corner of her eye as they got in line at the booth. He was handsome in a country-club sort of way, short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He was always clean-shaven from what she’d seen and favored tailored shirts and pressed jeans with expensive-looking loafers.

She’d done her research on the CEO, born and raised in Boston to a former senator and his homemaker wife. Christian had attended private schools and then graduated from Harvard before moving to the West Coast to start LiveSoft. He’d been one of the company’s founders, although she remained fuzzy on his role in developing the app. However, he’d become the face of the brand and was thought to be responsible for much of the company’s meteoric growth.

In fact, social media and marketing were his specialties. The public campaign to help choose the company headquarters had been his idea.

“I hope you enjoyed tonight,” she said, inclining her head toward the towering Christmas tree in the center of the square. “And not just because of the competition, despite what Grammy would have you think.”

“It was great,” he said. “Very Norman Rockwell.”

“We’re all community spirit around here,” she said, then cringed. “I hate that everything I say to you sounds like I’m selling Stonecreek.”

“I don’t mind,” he insisted. “We were in Timmins last night and they tried to manufacture snow and ended up causing a minor flood in the elementary school gym.”

“Oh, my,” she breathed. They stopped at the back of the long line for hot chocolate. “At least we didn’t go that over the top.” She arched a brow. “Unless you like over-the-top and I’ll make sure to ramp things up.”

“Move aside, people!”

Maggie glanced sharply toward the covered booth in front of them as the crowd parted. Grady Wilson, who ran the only locally owned gas station in town, made his way forward, elbowing people out of the way as he did. Grady’s grandson was the quarterback for the high school football team, so he and his wife were very involved in the boosters.

Grady grinned at Maggie. “Our beloved mayor and potential beloved town savior shouldn’t have to wait for a hot drink.”

“It’s fine,” Christian called, waving a hand. “I don’t mind waiting my turn.”

“Town savior?” Maggie muttered, shaking her head. “I guess we’ve got over-the-top covered after all.”

Grady approached them with a wide smile, a steaming cup in each hand. “Nonsense,” he insisted. “I gave you both extra whipped cream too. Our Maggie here’s a big fan of whipped cream.”

Christian raised a brow in her direction, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

She felt color rise to her cheeks again. Grady certainly didn’t mean his comment to sound like a sexual innuendo, but somehow it came out that way.

As she thanked him for the hot chocolate, she noticed the assistant who’d filmed the lighting of the town tree earlier standing a few feet to the side, her phone held aloft like she was taking a video of this episode.

“You stick with Maggie,” Grady told Christian. “She’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”

Maggie darted another look at the camera then forced a bright smile. “Everyone in Stonecreek is excited about this opportunity,” she announced. “Aren’t we, folks?”

The people in line gave an enthusiastic round of applause—bless them—and Christian toasted Maggie’s cup of hot chocolate. “To new opportunities,” he said, making his voice loud enough to carry and earning more clapping.

As they turned to head back toward the center of the square, he leaned in closer. “And to extra whipped cream,” he whispered, his voice teasing.

“That did not mean what you might have thought it meant,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Are we still on camera?”

He shrugged but kept his gaze forward. “Danielle was going to get some extra footage in case she needed filler, but I doubt it will be used and there’s no audio with it.”

“Okay, good. I’m not used to my every move being documented.”

“Aren’t you on social media?” he asked, brows pinching.

“Yes, but I’m not active. It doesn’t come naturally to me.”

“That’s why you need LiveSoft,” he told her. “The app can organize everything for you in a way that makes it less overwhelming and more streamlined.” He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “Now I sound like a walking advertisement for my own company. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. You have a great product. I do plan to use the app, although I’m horrible with technology.”

“I could give you a tutorial,” he offered. “Maybe over dinner one night next week? I’m heading out early tomorrow to get ready for a meeting on Monday, but I’ll be back by the end of the week.”

“Dinner?” she said, her voice coming out in a squeak.

“You’ve heard of it, right?” His smile was teasing and more than a little flirty.

Christian Milken was flirting with her. She fought the urge to check on the camera again. How was it possible that she’d just sworn off men, and suddenly, in the span of twenty-four hours, Griffin had reappeared and Christian was asking her out? Okay, wait. Maybe she was reading too much into this. If Stonecreek was chosen as LiveSoft’s headquarters, he’d be relocating here. He probably was just being friendly...neighborly even.

“Of course,” she said with forced cheer. “Dinner would be lovely.”

“Not as lovely as you,” he murmured and lifted his hand to trace a finger along her jaw.

So much for being neighborly.

A throat cleared behind Maggie, and she whirled around to find Griffin standing there, a wine bottle in each hand. His expression was dark as midnight, his green eyes intense on her.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said through clenched teeth.

She shook her head, swallowing down the lump of emotion that welled in her throat at the sight of him.

“Have you met Christian Milken?” she asked stepping back to include the CEO in the conversation.

“That’s why I’m here.” Griffin’s voice was tight but he gave Christian a friendly smile. “I’m Griffin Stone from Harvest Vineyard. We donated a few bottles of wine for the silent auction earlier, and I thought you might like to add a couple to your collection.”

Christian took one of the bottles Griffin held out and studied the label. “Pinot Noir. That’s my preferred type.”

“I heard.” Griffin flicked a glance toward Maggie then back to Christian. “We’re all excited about the potential of having you make Stonecreek your new headquarters. I can tell you it’s a fantastic place for a growing business. The town does its best to make sure the business community is taken care of.”

Maggie’s fingers tightened around her cup of hot chocolate. Here was one more example of a perfectly innocuous comment sounding vaguely suggestive to her ears. Like she was personally responsible for servicing local business owners. She knew Griffin didn’t mean it that way, any more than Grady had, and hoped Christian understood it too.

“I’m coming to appreciate what Stonecreek has to offer more with each moment,” Christian said, inclining his head toward her.

Griffin’s broad shoulders went even stiffer, if that was possible. Not that Christian would notice. Griffin wore faded jeans, another thick flannel shirt and a baseball cap with the Harvest Vineyard logo stitched on the front. To the casual observer, he’d appear to be relaxed and easy-going, just another resident helping to make a good impression.

But Maggie could feel the tension radiating from him.

“The business owners around here support each other,” she said with patently fake cheer. “It’s one of the things that make us stand out.”

“Among others,” Christian murmured softly.

“Harvest is a great example of that,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Griffin’s father founded the vineyard. From the start, and especially in the past few years, they’ve become a leader in the Oregon wine industry.”

Christian adjusted the scarf wound around his neck and nodded. “I met your brother last week,” he told Griffin. “He has some big plans for expansion.”

“Yes, he does,” Griffin agreed almost reluctantly. “But we’re also focused on environmental stewardship and the type of community we create. Our entire team contributes to the end product. We want to make our company healthy for the land and the people who work for us.”

“I like the sound of that.” Christian’s blue eyes lit with interest. “Work-life balance is one of the tenets LiveSoft was founded on.”

Maggie drew in a steadying breath as the two men discussed company culture as well as environmental building practices. She also had a moment to observe the two of them, both attractive but so different in looks and temperament. Despite his obvious enthusiasm for the topics, Christian remained almost aloof as he spoke with Griffin, every inch the tall and lean corporate executive. Griffin was earthy and raw, gesturing with his hands, his brows furrowing as he considered the other man’s ideas. And when he scrubbed a hand over the stubble that shadowed his strong jaw, Maggie’s insides tightened.

Would she ever not have that kind of visceral reaction to him?

“I’d like to set up a time to visit your operation,” Christian said. “I was only planning on staying in town for a day next week, long enough to shoot footage for the next installment of the social media story. But if you could carve out an afternoon, I can push the next stop on my small-town tour?”

“Sure,” Griffin said, glancing at Maggie. “Happy to show you around. Anything for Stonecreek.”

She knew he wasn’t happy to spend any more time with LiveSoft’s polished CEO than was absolutely necessary. The look he shot her was brief, a slight raise of his brows and a flash in his green eyes. In that moment she understood the only reason he was being the least bit cordial was to help her.

What was she supposed to make of that after she’d just cut him out of her life a day earlier?

“Thank you,” she told him.

“You should come out too, Maggie May,” he answered with a far too innocent smile. “Our plans at Harvest might interest you, as well.”

She opened her mouth to argue but Christian put a hand on her back. “Great idea. We can talk more about how LiveSoft might fit into the current community and what our employees are looking for with regard to the balance between work and their personal lives.”

“Sure,” she answered, her cheeks aching from so much fake smiling. “Um...text me.”

“I will.” Both men answered at the same time, only adding to the awkwardness of the moment, at least for Maggie.

She turned up the wattage on her smile, surprised her cheeks didn’t begin to crack. “Sounds good,” she answered both of them at once. “Right now I’m going to go help with cleanup.”

“Doesn’t Jacob Snow usually handle that?” Griffin asked.

“I’m here to support everyone,” she said sweetly. “You fellas have a great evening.” Without waiting for a response from either of them, she turned and walked away.

After tossing her empty hot chocolate cup into a nearby trash can, she massaged her fingers against her temples. Was it possible she’d sworn off men only to find herself torn between two of them?

* * *

Griffin stalked into O’Malley’s Tavern after finally ditching Christian Milken. The man might run one of the hottest app-development companies in the industry, but he seemed like a total tool to Griffin. His distaste had plenty to do with Milken’s obvious infatuation with Maggie.

Griffin had come to the Winter Wonderland festival under the pretense of checking on the Harvest wine donation, but he’d also hoped to see Maggie. His life might be an unholy mess at the moment, but he wasn’t ready to give up on her. He understood the way he’d left had hurt her, and he wasn’t ready to talk to her about Joey, but he’d returned to Stonecreek and planned to stay. Now he just needed Maggie to let him back into her life.

Granted, she wasn’t aware of either of those revelations yet. In fact, Griffin had just made the commitment to himself earlier in the day. It was walking the fields with Joey that had done it. The boy had been fascinated by the rows of vines, reaching out to touch the curving stalks and listening intently as Griffin explained the growing cycle of the grapes. As his mother noted, the boy’s interest had reminded Griffin of himself when he was a kid. No matter what had been going on in his life and how bad things had gotten with his dad, he’d always found solace in the fields.

He understood that Joey’s grief from the loss of his mother couldn’t be easily overcome, but he believed with his whole heart that being in Stonecreek would be a help rather than a hindrance to the boy’s healing.

As it had become for Griffin.

Maggie and her unfailing dedication to the community were a big part of what had helped him feel connected to the town again. She had every right not to trust him, but he was bound and determined to convince her he deserved another chance. He’d be the kind of man who deserved her.

Even if that meant helping to convince that far-too-slick-for-Griffin’s-taste CEO to relocate his company there.

After just a few minutes in the guy’s presence, Griffin needed a beer. He’d texted his mom and she’d confirmed Joey was sound asleep. One quick drink before heading back couldn’t hurt.

He waved to Chuck, the bartender and longtime owner of the pub then slid onto one of the wooden stools in front of the bar.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice said, and Griffin suppressed a groan as he turned to see his brother, Trevor, in one of the booths that ran along the wall next to the bar.

“I called you earlier,” Griffin answered, slapping down a crisp bill on the bar when Chuck placed a beer in front of him.

“You two plan to meet up like this?” the bar owner asked with a knowing wink.

“Lucky coincidence,” Griffin muttered.

So much for a few minutes to unwind. He picked up the beer and moved to the booth, slipping in across from Trevor.

“To Christmas in Stonecreek,” his brother said, raising a glass of amber liquid for a toast.

“I thought you only drank wine,” Griffin told him.

“I’m making an exception for the holidays.” He lifted his glass and drained it. “One more, barkeep,” he shouted.

“Fine,” Chuck called back. “But I’m cutting you off after that.”

“I can walk home from here,” Trevor protested.

“Understood, but your mom will kill me if you end up sleeping on the sidewalk. I’m not convinced you won’t pass out on the way home.”

“I’ll make sure he gets there safely,” Griffin said, looking back toward the bar owner.

Trevor gave a loud chuckle. “That’s right. My big brother has my back. Ask anyone.” His bleary gaze settled on Griffin. “Like Maggie.”

“I thought we were past that.” Griffin adjusted his ball cap then took a long drink of beer.

“Me too.” Trevor shrugged. “You left again, and it hurt her.”

“That’s my problem,” Griffin said through clenched teeth.

“It’s not right,” Trevor continued as if Griffin hadn’t spoken. “You get to come and go whenever the mood suits you.”

“It wasn’t like that. Not this time or when I left years ago. You know that.”

“Do I?” Trevor flashed a grateful smile at the waitress who set his drink on the table. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“I’m off in an hour,” the young blonde told him with a subtle wink. “If you need an escort home, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Much appreciated,” Trevor told her. “But this night is all about brotherly love.”

The woman made a face.

“Not that kind of love,” Griffin clarified. “He’s too drunk to make any sense.”

“I make perfect sense,” Trevor countered. “You just don’t want to hear the truth.” He leaned forward across the table. “You can’t handle the truth,” he said, doing a really pathetic Jack Nicholson impression.

The waitress laughed then turned away.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Griffin demanded. “You never drink like this.”

“I got offered a job today,” Trevor blurted then sucked in a breath. He lifted the glass then set it down again. “I turned it down.”

“What kind of job?”

“Marketing director for Calico Winery.”

Griffin whistled softly. “That’s huge, Trev. Calico is the biggest and the best when it comes to Sonoma vineyards.”

“Don’t remind me,” his brother whispered.

“You didn’t even consider taking the job?”

“How could I when I’m going to have so much fun working for you?” Trevor held out his hands. “You can take off for over a decade, show up for a few months then disappear again and still...” He pointed an angry finger at Griffin. “Still Mom and Marcus want you to take the helm. I’ve been here toiling away, trying to make a name for Harvest and no one even gives a rip.”

“That’s not true.”

“I have plans for the vineyard,” Trevor continued. “Plans to make us the biggest organic-certified producer in the Oregon wine industry. All I get is pushback for any idea I bring forward.”

Griffin dragged a hand along his jaw, unsure of the best way to have this conversation with his brother, especially in Trevor’s current state. They’d never been exactly close, not with their father’s affection and approval so clearly favoring Trevor.

Dave Stone hadn’t done either of his boys any favors with his preferential treatment of his younger son. Instead, he’d subtly pitted one brother against the other. Griffin had loved the vines, but Trevor had been the company’s heir apparent.

Now that things were changing, Griffin understood it was a difficult pill to swallow. He also appreciated Trevor’s dilemma. As angry as Griffin had been when his dad had all but kicked him out of their lives, it ultimately had been something of a blessing. He’d had a few years to make his own way in the world. He’d joined the army and then worked in construction around much of the Pacific Northwest. When he finally made his way back to Stonecreek, despite his varying emotions about this place, he knew in his heart the choice to stay would be his.

Trevor never had that choice.

“Maybe your plans are bigger than what Harvest can hold,” he suggested quietly.

“Because you want to get rid of me?” Trevor’s lip curled into an angry sneer.

“Because I want you to be happy.”

Trevor’s head snapped back like Griffin had punched him. “Why do you think Dad acted the way he did with the two of us?” he asked after a long moment.

Griffin sighed. He’d only recently learned the whole truth around the start of their parents’ marriage. “Mom got pregnant with me to trap him into marrying her.” It pained him to say the words, both because of the shadow it cast over his mother’s character and what it said about how wanted he’d been as a baby. Which was not very much, at least by his dad.

“But he loved her,” Trevor said, shaking his head and looking suddenly far more sober than he had a few minutes earlier. “Why would it matter how things started? And you had nothing to do with any of that.”

“I don’t quite understand it,” Griffin admitted, “and Dad isn’t saying much from beyond the grave.”

“Damn, Grif,” Trevor muttered.

“It wasn’t easy for Mom to share it with me.” He took another drink of beer then laughed. “Although it was better than the explanation I’d come up with on my own, which basically boiled down to questioning whether Dad was my real father.”

Trevor made a face. “You look like Mom, but you’re a chip off the old paternal personality block.”

“Maybe, but I’d had fantasies as a kid of some Clint Eastwood–type guy showing up and claiming me as his own.” He shrugged. “I could imagine every moment up until the point where I had to leave Harvest. Then it got fuzzy.”

“You left anyway.”

“Dad and I would have torn each other apart if I’d stayed.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry you felt like you didn’t have a choice in the path your life took, Trev.”

His brother massaged two fingers against his forehead. “It seemed like one rebel in the family was enough.”

“You do have a choice.” Griffin sat up straighter. “I’m not trying to push you out. If you want to stay at Harvest, we’ll find a way to run the business together. But Calico might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. No one would blame you for wanting to do something for yourself at this point.”

“You want to check with Mom before you start making promises?”

“I don’t need to,” Griffin insisted. “She’s not like Dad. You know that. She wants you to be happy, no matter how that looks or where it takes you.”

Trevor leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest. “I always figured the family business was my only option. Dad made it clear—”

“He’s gone,” Griffin interrupted then shook his head. “The old man did a number on both of us, but I have to believe he meant well in his own narcissistic way. You can’t let everything that came before dictate what comes next for you. You have big ideas and you’re damn good at what you do.”

“I love it,” Trevor said softly. He looked down at the drink in front of him then added, “But I want more. I want to take the job.”

Griffin nodded. “We’ll talk to Mom in the morning, explain what’s going to happen. She’ll understand. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you.” Trevor’s gaze lifted to Griffin’s and there was a mix of anticipation and relief in that familiar gaze that made Griffin’s chest ache. Why hadn’t they talked like this before now? They’d lost so many years... Griffin had wasted so much time on anger and resentment. He hated himself for it, but all he could do now was vow to change.

“You ready to head home?”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to end up passed out on the sidewalk.”

“Let me walk with you anyway. I have some big brothering to catch up on.”

“Fine,” Trevor grumbled but he didn’t seem upset by Griffin’s insistence. “I’m holding you to the offer to be there when I talk to Mom. She’s going to freak out.”

Griffin thought about their mother’s calm reaction when he brought Joey home with him. “I think she’ll handle it okay,” he told Trevor with a smile.

They each climbed out of the booth, waved to Chuck and headed out into the cold December night.


Chapter Three (#ufd7b6a34-8da0-567b-aac3-bdc22955640d)

Jana opened the front door the following morning and felt her jaw go slack. Instead of her younger son, who Griffin had told her would be stopping to discuss something with both of them, Jim Spencer stood on the other side.

Her hand automatically lifted to smooth the hair away from her face. She wore no makeup and was afraid she looked every day of her fifty years. Joey’d had another nightmare at three in the morning. She and Griffin had spent over an hour trying to get him back to sleep, resulting in very little rest for Jana after that.

She stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her. Griffin was working in the office that had been her late husband’s, a room off the kitchen, while Joey remained asleep. Although she didn’t approve of Griffin keeping Joey a secret from Maggie, she respected that the decision was his. Obviously, he wouldn’t want Maggie’s father discovering the boy before he was ready to share the news himself.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her tone harsher than she meant it to be.

Jim frowned, inclining his head to study her. He’d always had a contemplative air about him, the soul of an artist even before he became the renowned sculptor he was today.

“Are you okay, Jana?” he asked softly, reaching out a finger to gently trace the frown line between her eyes. A fat lot of good that would do. One of her friends had recently suggested a dermatologist in Portland who was known to be an expert with Botox. Jana had smiled and said she liked that her face told a story. Now she wished she’d called for an appointment.

“Fine,” she answered, shifting away from his touch, which still elicited a tingling along her spine, much as it had when they’d been teenagers. Only she was nowhere near the naive girl she’d once been. “Griffin is on a call,” she lied, “so he needs quiet.”

Jim nodded, although the excuse was lame even to her ears. The old farmhouse was plenty big to accommodate the two of them without disturbing her son.

“We’d scheduled a meeting to discuss your commission,” he said, holding up a slim file folder. “I did initial sketches and pulled some ideas into a file for you to review.”

Right. The commission for a sculpture she’d discussed with him at the hospital fund-raiser she’d chaired over a month ago. What had she been thinking?

That she wanted something for herself.

That she wanted to feel alive again.

That she wanted another chance with the man who’d broken her heart over three decades earlier.

Jana kept her features placid even as panic and embarrassment washed over her in equal measure. She’d like to blame her impulsive request that he create a sculpture for the vineyard on the emotional highs and lows of menopause. What else could explain reaching out to Jim?

She’d moved on from her first lost love. For heaven sakes, they’d lived in the same town for years and she hadn’t revisited her feelings.

“I’m sorry,” she said coolly. “I know we agreed to meet after the Thanksgiving holiday, but I’ve been busy.” She licked her dry lips. “Griffin had a rough time while he was away.”

Jim’s gentle eyes hardened as he shook his head. “I can’t bring myself to have any sympathy for him. Not after what he did to Maggie.”

“I know he feels terrible for hurting her.”

“He’s a scumbag.”

“Jim.”

“You’d think the same if our positions were reversed.”

“Like when Maggie walked out on Trevor minutes before the wedding?”

One thick eyebrow lifted. “Because she discovered he was cheating on her. I hardly think it’s the same thing.”

She shook her head. “I hate that my sons have hurt your daughter.”

“I’m afraid Maggie is somehow paying the karmic price for how I hurt you once upon a time.”

“That isn’t how karma works,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to manage anything steadier. It was the first time he’d acknowledged the pain he’d caused. “We both moved on a long time ago, made our own lives.”

He turned, looked out toward the view of the fields below. She’d always loved how the old farmhouse was situated so that from every window she could see the rows of vines thriving in the rich, loamy soil of Central Oregon’s Willamette Valley. Her late husband had resented the farm and everything it stood for. Even though Dave had made a success of the land he’d inherited, he’d never been truly happy here. He’d longed for adventure and excitement, not the relentless life of a vintner.

But Jana was content, at least as much as she could be with the turmoil that had always brewed between Dave and Griffin, slowly escalating until she couldn’t seem to find a way to bridge the chasm between her husband and their older son.

“I still think about you,” he said, although the words were almost swallowed by the cold winter wind that suddenly whipped up from the valley. His graying hair blew across his face as he stared at her, his eyes still the color of the sand where it met the sea. God, those eyes had mesmerized her when she’d been younger. He’d mesmerized her.

“I think about us,” he continued. “You’re as beautiful as the day we first met, Jana.”

She laughed out loud at that bit of ridiculousness. “I’m old, Jim.”

“Not to me.”

“I hate to break it to you,” she said with another laugh. “But you’re old too.”

The breeze blew again, and she shivered, as much from the cold air as the intensity of his gaze on hers.

“You shouldn’t be out here without a coat. Can I come inside?” He stepped closer, his big body blocking the brunt of the wind. He was well over six feet tall, and while the height had made him gangly as a young man, he now seemed perfectly comfortable in his own skin. She found it undeniably attractive. “It’s business.” He paused then added, “For now.”

The door opened behind her, and she turned to find Joey standing at the entrance to the house. He rubbed his eyes with one hand while the other clutched the worn blanket he took everywhere.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said, stepping away from Jim with a furtive look in his direction.

“It’s cold,” the boy observed. “You need a coat.”

“So I’ve been told,” she murmured. “I’ll be inside in a minute. Griffin’s in the office next to the kitchen. Do you remember how to get there?”

Joey nodded then said, “I dreamed about Mommy last night. She was an angel.”

A lump formed in Jana’s throat. “Your mommy is an angel,” she confirmed. “She’ll always be with you that way.”

“I gotta pee.” Joey looked around her to where Jim stood, his jaw slack.

“That happens in the morning,” Jim confirmed, a confused half smile curving one side of his mouth.

The boy disappeared into the house, slamming shut the door.

“Right now isn’t the best time for me,” Jana said, reluctantly meeting his curious gaze. “Is it okay if I text you later in the week?”

“Who’s the boy?”

She bit down on her lower lip. “It’s complicated, Jim, and I’m not sure Griffin wants anyone to know about Joey. He hasn’t even told Trevor yet. I’m the only one—”

“Who is he?” The question was more insistent this time.

“The son of Griffin’s ex-girlfriend, the one he left town to see.” She shook her head. “See





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