behind.
“So these are chardonnay grapes,” Brenna said. “Note the pale color. They’re nearly ripe and will be picked first. The cabs are last to ripen.”
“Cabs?”
“Cabernet sauvignon. Our pride and joy. Red wines are the gift of the gods. Whites are nice, too, but honestly, not my favorite.”
“Katie only drinks white wine,” Joe said.
Brenna glared at him. “He’s making trouble. Can you believe it? He disappears for weeks at a time, and when he returns, he makes trouble.”
“Just sharing. You women like that.”
“Slap him for me,” Brenna said. “Slap him really, really hard.”
Darcy laughed. The morning was perfect-the coolness of the night had faded, but it wasn’t hot yet. The sky was clear, the company enjoyable.
“We grow different kinds of grapes here,” Brenna said. “Chardonnay, merlot, cabs, some voigner for blending. We also have vineyards up in Northern California. The grapes are brought down here, and everything is blended together. I hope you’re here when we start picking. It’s very exciting. The grapes are pressed on the property and put into huge barrels for fermenting.”
“I’d like to see that,” Darcy said.
Brenna continued to talk about grapes and winemaking, but Darcy found herself focusing more on the family than their wine.
What a wonderful place to grow up, she thought. So much space, so much love and acceptance. Except Joe hadn’t known about any of this. What would it be like to find out he had this whole other family who wanted nothing more than to make him one of them? Was he angry about what he’d missed? Hurt his parents had given him up?
They turned around and headed for the barrel rooms.
“Running two different wineries is tough,” Brenna was saying. “Mine-Four Sisters-is pretty small, but it still takes a lot of time. Plus, working here has the added thrill of dealing with my grandfather. In theory, I’m in charge. In reality, he argues with me about everything. What wine should be used for the reserve and what should be blended. How long to ferment, whether or not to use oak barrels or stainless steel. Don’t even get me started on labels. I’ve been trying to get him to approve new ones for over three years. But does he? No. We’re using the same old crappy labels. He makes me insane. Truly he does.”
Lorenzo might annoy his granddaughter, but Darcy heard the love in her voice, too.
They left the carts and walked into the main buildings of the winery. Brenna showed her the pressing room, the fermenting room, and the equipment that delivered ready wine into bottles. Paige hovered by the main entrance while Alex stalked from room to room, checking for terrorists in all the shadows.
“I need to talk to my manager,” Brenna said. “I’ll just be a second.”
Darcy nodded and crouched down to pat Max as she examined the bottling equipment more closely.
“This is interesting,” she said. “My peak tour experience had been watching them manufacture M &M’s, but this is just as good.” She stood. “You must love being a part of it.”
Joe shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.
She faced him. “You don’t care about this?”
“No.”
“But they’re an amazing family.”
“We’re related. That doesn’t make us family.”
She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d morphed into a giant moose.
“But that’s crazy,” she told him. “Why on earth would you walk away from all this? It’s your heritage, it’s who you are.”
“I’m not interested in their money.”
“I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about belonging to something bigger than just you. There’s history here, and love. People who care about you.”
He turned away. “I’m here because of my job. Nothing else.”
She could hear Lauren’s voice in her head telling her this was a really good time to change the subject. She didn’t want to alienate someone on her security team on her first day. There were probably at least fourteen different, polite ways to handle the situation. Darcy ignored them all.
“I thought you had to be smart to be a SEAL. I guess not.”
Brenna returned, and they completed the tour. Joe stayed in the background, watching Darcy as she interacted with everyone she met.
He hadn’t thought about her as a person before. To him she’d been little more than the slightly attractive reason he was stuck here instead of back on base. Not that there was any guarantee that he would have been allowed to stay on base after the incident with the admiral’s boat.
Now he saw her as an individual-one with a temper. She liked dogs, had a smart mouth, and was shy with strangers, although she forced herself to act otherwise. She was also afraid.
Brenna opened her car door and Max jumped inside. She turned to Darcy.
“I had fun,” she said.
“Me, too.” Darcy smiled, then leaned in to hug her. Brenna’s large stomach got in the way.
“I’m huge,” Brenna said with a sigh.
Darcy touched her belly. “You’re lucky.”
Her voice had a wistful quality that made Joe feel as if he’d stumbled onto something personal. Before he could turn away, Brenna reached for him.
“All right, big guy. I’m outta here. Take care of our guest.” She lowered her voice. “I like her. Based on what I read in the paper, I thought I’d hate her, but I don’t. So be nice to her.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“So you like to think.”
Brenna moved to the car and climbed in. Darcy stood there and waved until she disappeared around the corner.
“That was fun,” she said when they were alone. “Your sister’s great. I really like how she bullies you.”
“I let her think she bullies me.”
“Oh. Right. That’s how it is.”
Her eyes were bright with humor, her mouth smiling. She was pretty, he thought, as heat tumbled in his gut and moved south. And as much as he hated to side with Brenna-if she found out she would never let him forget-he agreed with her assessment of Darcy. From what he’d read in the paper, she was supposed to be a class A bitch. So far, no real sign of that.
Paige strolled up. “Hey, Darcy. What’s up for the rest of the day?”
“I’m not sure. I’d like to head out and sketch the vineyards.”
“Sure. Give us about a thirty-minute heads-up. We’ll send you out with a team of three.”
Darcy’s smile faded. “Sure. Thanks.”
Paige wandered back to the guesthouse. Joe turned to Darcy.
“Not in the mood for an entourage?” he asked.
“I don’t mind that. Sometimes I forget why I need them. I’m not excited to be reminded.”
“You were kidnapped. They want to be careful.”
“And I want them to be careful.”
She turned toward the house, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. Her skin was soft against his fingers.
“What?” she demanded. “Did I disobey? Do I have to get down and give you twenty?”
He studied her face. The shadows were darker today. “You’re not sleeping.”
Instantly her expression closed, and she jerked free of his hold. “I’m fine.”
“You should talk about it to someone.”
“Are you volunteering?”
“Maybe Paige could help.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
