Marco studied him for a second before wrapping both arms around Joe in a welcoming hug. Joe accepted the embrace-to do otherwise would invite conversations he didn’t want to have, then when he was free, he stepped back and glanced around.
“A lot of grapes,” he said, motioning to the vines heavy with fruit.
“A good year,” Marco said. “Brenna and Grandpa Lorenzo are excited about the harvest. More wine means more excuses for Colleen and me to travel as we sell the wine. I’m not complaining.”
Joe nodded, as if the information had meaning. The Marcellis
Marco patted the side of the truck. “You usually travel light.”
“I don’t know how long I’m going to be here,” Joe said, wishing that wasn’t the case. “I couldn’t fit everything on my motorcycle, so I rented the truck.”
“They haven’t told us much,” Marco told him. “But several people from the government have been all over the property and have spoken with everyone in the family. They picked you to help.”
Joe heard the pride in Marco’s voice and thought about telling him that the only reason any of this was happening was because Joe’s men had screwed up.
“I thought I’d brief everyone at once,” Joe said. “I guess we should do that first, before I unpack.”
Marco patted his shoulder. “It’s good that you’re staying here for a while, Joe. We want…” The older man hesitated. “We’re helping because of you.”
Joe knew what he was trying to do-show that the family would be there for him. Marco, like every other Marcelli, had spent the past three years doing his best to convince Joe he was one of them.
Joe knew different. He might share bloodlines, but they had nothing else in common, and they would never be his family.
“Tessa made up your room,” Marco said.
“I appreciate that.” He looked at the man who thought of himself as Joe’s father. “You know this is temporary. I’m only staying until the job is done.”
Marco nodded. “Of course. You’re still a navy man.”
The back door opened again. A small, elderly woman with gray hair piled on her head walked onto the porch. “Joseph? Is that you? So that’s what they’re teaching officers these days? That it’s polite to keep an old woman waiting?”
Despite his dislike of the assignment and the pressure he felt being back at the winery, Joe couldn’t help smiling as he crossed to the house and climbed the three back stairs.
“No, Tessa, that’s not what they teach me,” he said as he bent down to gather her close. Too late he remembered her need to pinch every cheek in range. Her forefinger and thumb closed over his skin with enough strength to snap steel. He might have survived a gunshot wound and a couple of knife fights, but man, could she make him wince.
“Let me look at you,” she said, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him into the kitchen. “The government has sent people here. They talk to us and ask questions. They say we need clearance, but they won’t say for what.” She humphed. “As if we would be a danger to anyone. Now.”
She stopped in the center of the kitchen and studied him from head to toe. Her dark eyes missed nothing as she frowned and poked him in the stomach. “You’re not eating enough. You look skinny.”
“I weigh exactly the same as I did the last time I was here,” he told her.
“You were too skinny then, too. All that exercise. It’s not good for you. I’m going to feed you while you’re here. You’ll eat good food. What do you have at the place you live? Junk food? A man your age on his own. It’s not a good thing.” Her expression softened as she took his hand in hers and rubbed his fingers. “Joseph, you need to be married, eh? A wife would know how to take care of you.”
It was a familiar conversation, one he refused to participate in. “Who else is at the hacienda?” he asked.
Grandma Tessa narrowed her gaze. “Your mother and Lorenzo. They’ll be here in a few minutes. So what is this all about?”
Just then Colleen Marcelli walked into the kitchen. She was a well-dressed, petite woman a year or so shy of fifty. Her stylish clothes and unlined face made her look much younger, but Joe could do the math. He’d just turned thirty-three, which meant Colleen had had him when she was still in high school.
“Joe,” she breathed when she saw him. Her expression blended hope and longing in a painful combination. He could deal with the rest of them, but seeing Colleen always made him feel guilty. He couldn’t shake the sense of being a real bastard every time he held her at arm’s length. He knew what she wanted-what they all wanted.
Rather than deal with the guilt, he stepped forward and hugged her. Before he straightened, Lorenzo Marcelli, the aging patriarch, strolled into the kitchen.
“So, you’re back,” the elder Marcelli growled. “They’re snooping around here like we’re a bunch of terrorists. Send them away.”
“Not in my job description,” Joe said as he released his mother and shook hands with Marco’s father. “You’re looking well.”
“I’m old,” Lorenzo said. “This is all a bunch of nonsense.”
“Pop, it’s not so bad,” Marco said.
“You don’t even know what’s going on,” Lorenzo complained. “None of us do. If those agents trample even one grape, there will be hell to pay.”
“Lorenzo!” Tessa reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a rosary. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.” Lorenzo thumped the cane he’d started using about a year ago and made his way to the large kitchen table in the center of the room. “Well, get on with it. Tell us why we’ve been taken over like an enemy country.”
Joe nodded at Marco, who led Colleen and Tessa to chairs by Lorenzo’s. When they were seated, he began.
“What I’m about to tell you is classified information. You are not to discuss it with anyone outside of the immediate family.”
Tessa reached for Lorenzo’s hand, and Colleen shivered. “That sounds so serious,” she said nervously.
“It is,” he told her. “Two days ago the president’s daughter was kidnapped. She got away, but the kidnappers are still out there.”
Tessa gasped and clutched her beads tighter. “Who would do that? She’s a lovely girl. So pretty and always helping with those little children.”
Colleen nodded. “It was so sad when she lost her husband. Their wedding was so beautiful. They’d barely been married a year when he was killed in that car accident. She got so sad afterward.” She reached for Marco. “I can’t imagine what she must have gone through, missing him so much.”
Lorenzo frowned. “What does this have to do with us? What do we care about his daughter?”
“Lorenzo!” Tessa glared at him. “We care. Lauren Jensen-Smith is a lovely girl.” She turned her attention to Joe. “How can we help?” Even as she asked the question, her breath caught. “Oh! Is she coming here?”
“Not exactly,” Joe said, wondering why they’d done the same thing he had-jumped to the conclusion that it was Lauren who was in trouble and not Darcy.
“You’ll have the president’s daughter here, but it won’t be Lauren,” he said. “It will be the other one. Darcy.”
There was a moment of silence. Colleen released her husband’s arm and smoothed down her skirt. “I’m sure she’s very nice, too.”
“That other one?” Lorenzo asked. “I don’t know anything about her. Except she never bothered to get married and have babies to make her family proud.”
With that he pushed to his feet and used his cane to help him turn. “This is all a waste of time if you ask me,” he grumbled as he slowly limped out of the room.
Tessa rose as well. “Are you sure they’re not sending Lauren? A nice, pretty girl like that needs to be married.” She smiled at him. “Maybe to an officer.”
Joe held in a groan. Right. Because his life wasn’t hellish enough already. Fortunately a knock on the back door prevented him from responding. He crossed the kitchen and opened it.
“Lieutenant Commander Joseph Larson?” the woman on the other side asked.
