* * *
Those last four words were still rattling around in Becca’s mind when she reached the wine shed that morning. Just like Greta had promised, the tea and all that breakfast did make her feel much better. Her head still felt slightly like one of the round watermelons she sliced open to juice, but that was minor compared to the way she had felt when she first woke up.
She gave the bottles of wine on the top shelf of the winery a dirty look as she flipped the strap of a bibbed apron over her head. The hired hands had already unloaded a pickup load of melons into the shed, and there would be at least that many more arriving after lunch. If she’d gone with Dalton on his stock delivery, she would have been working long hours over the weekend to catch up.
She figured more watermelons were coming in when she heard the hinges on the door squeak. “Just stack them over against the wall.”
“Hey,” Dalton said.
His deep Texas drawl made her drop the butcher knife on the floor.
“Hey.” Her eyes locked with his across the room.
“You ready to talk?” he asked, but he didn’t take a step forward.
“How did you get back from Haskell so quick?” she asked.
“I didn’t go,” he answered. “Didn’t plan to take the bulls myself from the beginning. I just thought it would be a good little trip for the two of us, but…” He blinked and took a deep breath. “Need some help?”
“Doin’ what? Apologizing for not trusting you, or juicing melons?” she asked.
“I was thinkin’ of melons,” he said. “Are we going to talk about last night or pretend it didn’t happen?”
“I think we’d better talk about it.” She picked up the knife and carried it over to the sink. “I’m not a big believer in sweeping things under the rug.” She motioned to a couple of green lawn chairs over in the corner.
He waited for her to sit down, and then he eased down in the chair beside her. “I visited with Lacy this morning on the phone. I didn’t go to her place or invite her to come to mine. Everyone in town knows that I live out here on the ranch in the original old house, but until last night she’d never been in my place.”
“I believe you,” Becca said. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
“Actually, you had every right to react that way. I also talked to my grandpa and my dad this morning. They both reminded me that I was just reaping what I’d sown. I’ve chased women since I was a teenager, and they told me time after time that the day would come when I would have regrets about being so wild,” he confessed.
“Grammie read me the riot act, too, only she said that we shouldn’t even consider having a few dates because I didn’t trust you,” Becca told him. “In her opinion I should have kicked Lacy’s arse out of the house when you told her that the baby couldn’t be yours.”
“She’s not pregnant,” Dalton said. “She got angry when she saw us buying baby blankets, and she wanted to break us up.”
“What a bitch!” Becca said.
“She might be, but it worked for her last night anyway,” Dalton said. “Now what do we do?”
“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Becca said. “Everyone has a past, no matter how good or bad it is. The important thing is to leave all that where it belongs and go forward.”
“Is there a forward for us?” he asked.
She had loved being with him on Sunday and then again last night. She had swallowed her pride and apologized.
“I sense by your hesitation that you don’t know,” he said. “Anything I can do to change your mind?”
“You could ask me out on a date that doesn’t involve wine, and we could take it one step at a time, if you’re willing for that,” she said.
“Becca, will you go out with me tonight? There will be no wine and no drinking, but I can promise you supper and a nice quiet evening where no one will barge in on us.” He smiled for the first time.
“I’d love to go with you. What can I bring to help with supper?” She returned his smile.
“Not one thing. I make a real mean ham-and-cheese sandwich, and I’ve got just the hideaway spot for us to visit.” He stood up. “We could leave from here when you get off work at five.”
“I probably should go home and get cleaned up if this is a date,” she told him.
“If you want to, you can lose the apron. If not, then you look pretty damn gorgeous in it.” He extended a hand to help her up.
Her fingers tingled the moment they touched his. One date, and then she’d make a decision and never look back with regrets whichever way it went. After the way she’d acted the night before, he deserved that much. When she was on her feet, he pulled her to his chest and kissed her—long, hard, and passionately.
Well, maybe two dates just to be sure, she thought when the kiss ended and he walked out of the winery without saying another word.
Chapter 8
Becca wasn’t sure what to think when Dalton came to get her for their date. He was driving the beat-up old ranch work truck. When he had told her she should just take off her apron, she hadn’t expected that they would go to a five-star restaurant or a dinner theater, but she did think maybe he would spring for his fancy club-cab vehicle.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she fastened her seat belt.
“Somewhere secluded and so quiet you can hear the tree frogs singing,” he answered. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“I promise you’re going to love it, and before you ask, I’ve never taken anyone, male or female, there before. It’s my hidden place where
