Chapter 4
Sherry
“There you are!” Rose exclaimed, linking her arm through mine and dragging me toward a table where Wyatt, her boyfriend since college, and our brother Rhone and his best friend Sutton were sitting. “We need a ruling,” she finished, her warm chestnut eyes bright with mischief.
I arched an eyebrow as I slid into the open chair at the head of the table. “On what, exactly?”
Wyatt smirked, leaning back in his chair, and crossing his hands behind his head.
His tie was askew, though not yet tied around his head, but that was only a matter of time.
“Settling a debate. Rose seems to think couples who have been together forever don’t need to do the whole kiss at midnight. Rhone and Sutton disagree.”
Rhone scoffed and crossed his arms. “It’s tradition.”
“Agreed,” Sutton said, mimicking Rhone and nodding, causing a dark brown strand to fall from her sleek ponytail. She quickly tucked it behind her ear before resuming the position.
Rose rolled her eyes and tapped the table in front of me. “Help me out here. Do long-term couples really need the big moment, or is it just an excuse for unattached people to kiss someone?”
“Are you two kissing at midnight?” I waved my finger between Wyatt and Rose.
While I refused to date a coworker, these two did everything together, including both working for the vineyard.
They were different, though. They’d been together for so long, through so much, their relationship was more like a foundation than a risk.
They were together when grandpa was alive, before Mom and Dad unexpectedly retired and handed us the reins.
“Of course we’re kissing at midnight,” Wyatt said matter-of-factly. “But that’s not the point.”
“How is that not the point?” Rhone exclaimed.
“I have to go with Rhone on this one. Even if you’ve been together forever, it’s nice to default to romance, and what better excuse than midnight on New Year’s?”
“I told you we shouldn’t have asked her,” Wyatt said to Rose. “We should have asked Char.”
“Char from last year? Yes. Char this year? She and Brady have been kissing all night. What do you think she would have said?” Rose asked.
I glanced over to my older sister and her once enemy now lover, who was as much a brother to me as Rhone and Wyatt.
Rose wasn’t lying. Their lips were attached, and Brady’s hand was shifting lower, lower…
I liked to take credit since there was a real shift after she showed up at his Halloween party.
I diverted my attention to the small group before I witnessed something I couldn’t unsee.
I was happy for Char, even if a small part of me ached to have the weight of someone’s hand in mine as we sipped wine and chatted with guests, stole kisses between conversations and smiles from across the room.
It was an emotion that never really bothered me, but surfaced during weddings, slow songs, New Year’s Eve…
Wyatt draped his arm over Rose’s shoulder. “Amateurs, all of them.”
I picked up a glass of wine from a passing server and swirled the white liquid, determining it was our popular Pinot grigio. “Sounds like you’re just mad everyone is more romantic than you.”
“More romantic than me? Impossible . Besides, romance isn’t about forced traditions. It’s about knowing what your partner wants. Rose wants to make fun of everyone else making out around us.”
“Exactly! Midnight kisses are overrated.”
“They’re part of the magic that sets the tone for the year ahead,” Sutton said.
Rhone clinked his glass with Sutton’s. “Thank you! At least someone agrees with me.”
I took a sip of my wine, wondering if Sutton was right. If a midnight kiss set the tone for the year ahead, then why the hell did my pulse race at the thought of Ben’s offer?
Once Rhone and Wyatt started debating if the kiss had to involve tongue, I excused myself and made my way through the crowd, checking on the caterers, making sure the centerpieces were still in the center of the tables and pretending like I wasn’t scanning the room for him.
I spotted him talking with my other brothers, Franc and Laurent.
Midnight. You. Me. No more pretending .
My skin prickled at the memory of his breath on my ear, the rough sound of his words coursing through me. I gripped the edge of the tasting bar, inhaling and trying to clear my mind of Ben Wright.
Odette, a regular to the winery and a town staple, approached, taking my arm and giving me a squeeze.
“You outdid yourself,” she said. Her eye shadow reached new heights tonight, the bright blue touching the bottom of her eyebrows.
Her red lipstick exceeded the natural lines of her mouth, including a healthy swipe against her front tooth.
Not many people could pull off this look—actually no one could—but it was so distinctly Odette, I couldn’t imagine her any other way.
“Thank you, Odette,” I said, patting her hand. “Are you having a good time?”
“I’m having a blast!” Odette beamed, holding up her glass. “I even got Albert to dance. Can you believe it?”
I blinked. “Wait a second. Albert? As in, grumpy, refuses-to-participate-in-anything Albert?”
She nodded proudly as I took a sip of my drink. “Well, dance might be pushing it. I grabbed his hands and wobbled him back and forth until he gave up trying to fight me.”
I choked on my wine, but recovered quickly. I’d have paid money to have seen that.
“Meadow cut in, and I spotted you and just had to sing your praise.”
“I appreciate that.”
“And we all appreciate you.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Now tell me, do you have a special someone you’ll be kissing at midnight?”
What was everyone’s obsession with kissing at midnight?
“I’m leaving that to my siblings.” All but Rhone and Sutton were paired off, and I… well, I was the planner. The fixer. The one who made sure everyone else’s night was perfect… except my own.
“So you won’t be kissing a certain warehouse manager?”
“Ben?” I asked, as if I was completely shocked by her insinuation, then added a laugh for good measure. “Absolutely not.”
“You two looked awfully friendly before.”
“We were discussing an upcoming event I need his help with.”
“Is that all?” she asked. “Well shucks. I guess I owe Albert ten bucks. I could have sworn you two were a thing.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right. I’ll win the next one.”
“The next one?” I asked.
“You might not be a thing now, but you will. I’m never wrong.” With a wink of an overly mascaraed lashes, Odette hurried to her group of old timers and Meadow, who, at only twenty something, had a way of effortlessly blending into any group.
I continued making my rounds, attempting to ignore Ben, but his gaze was like the sun—impossible to get away from, and hot as hell.
Someone grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward them. I stumbled slightly before getting my footing and stopping just before slamming into Dad.
“Dad, what are you doing?” I asked as he spun me around before continuing our dance to the jazz music that filled this area of the tasting room.
“Your mother is complaining her feet hurt,” Dad said. I glanced to the tasting bar where Mom was four inches shorter, her shoes discarded at her feet. “I told her not to wear new shoes tonight.”
“She never listens,” I joked.
“Never.” Dad spun me again. “I wanted to tell you how proud I am. You did good, kid.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I grew up with parents who never held back praise, but there was still some thrill in hearing I made my parents proud.
After all, this vineyard was an extension of first my grandfather and then their hard work and dedication.
They had officially retired and had left us kids in charge of the whole multi-million-dollar business.
They’d be heading to Italy soon to continue their travels they started when Grandpa passed away.
“Are you going to come visit your mother and me on our travels?”
“You know I would love to, but event season is about to take off.”
“Not for another couple of months.”
“Which is why I have paint nights scheduled, a cake and wine pairing planned with Lainey, a murder mystery that is already sold out, Vino and Vinyasa yoga in the barrel room, Spring Garden and Rose Launch Party in March with flower arrangement workshops not to mention all the meetings with soon to be brides and grooms to convince them Vine Valley Vineyards is the perfect venue for their big day.”
“I’m exhausted,” Dad said.
A laugh burst free, and I patted his chest. “You’re old now. It’s okay.”
Mom glided over, leaving her shoes behind. “I’m tagging in.”
“Are your feet okay?” I asked.
“No, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, I want to experience this beautiful event my daughter put together.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You did good.”
“That’s what I said,” Dad said, then kissed my hand, thanking me for the dance before spinning Mom into him. Dad nodded to his watch. “Almost time.”
I glanced at my own watch that I wore so I didn’t lose track of time. There were five minutes in counting. I made my way to the band, giving them a smile and waiting for them to finish their current song. Once the music came to an end, the singer, Dorian West, handed me the microphone.
All conversation stopped, and all eyes turned toward me.
I cleared my throat before holding the mic up.
“Before we start the countdown, I wanted to thank everyone for spending your New Year’s Eve with us and for another wonderful year at the vineyard.
We love the energy and excitement you have brought tonight.
So, raise your glass to another incredible year in Vine Valley.
May the new year bring you good health, great company, and even better wine! ”
Cheers and laughs erupted around me. I smiled at the crowd, but my eyes immediately landed on Ben’s.
Why did he have to look so good in a navy blue tuxedo with a black lapel?
Those colors shouldn’t go together, but they suited him so perfectly.
The material clung to him in a way only a custom suit could.
His lip quirked, as if he knew he had my attention. I quickly snapped it away.
My attention drifted to my watch, waiting for the moment. Still a few minutes to go. Someone handed me a fresh glass of champagne, and I took it with a smile, barely tasting the first sip as I exchanged a quick thank you.
The room buzzed with energy full of glittering dresses, loud laughter, and couples already embracing. I should be thinking about checking the dessert table, making sure the photo booth hadn’t delved into chaos, but instead, my gaze kept drifting to Ben.
He stood near the bar, sharing a laugh with a few locals. I hated how easy it was to find him in a crowd. I hated how my heart jumped when his head tilted back with his laughter.
“Almost time,” Odette announced above the chatter, and I confirmed with my watch.
“And the countdown begins!” I announced. “Ten, nine, eight, seven.”
Ben turned, slipping through the people and making his way toward the back of the room. I almost stumbled on the countdown, but my mouth continued while my mind followed him out. I knew where he was going.
“Happy New Year!” I yelled along with everyone else.
Wyatt dipped Rose, kissing her quick and pulling her up, as they pointed and giggled at others.
Mom and Dad kissed like they did so often in our kitchen growing up—as if no one else was in the room.
Brady and Chardonnay, Laurent and his wife Phoebe, Franc and his girlfriend Quinn, my best friend—who usually embraced me—was sucking face with Nero.
Rhone and Sutton kissed each other’s cheeks, then hugged for more than a few beats. Everyone had someone but me.
My eyes lingered on the door that Ben had exited. One night was all it had taken to turn my world upside down. Would I really be reckless enough to let it happen again?
Mom and Dad bombarded me, hugging me and wishing me a happy new year, then my siblings joined. I might not have had someone to kiss at midnight, but I still had my family.
And for this moment, it was enough.