Chapter 25
Ben
I pulled the Vine Valley Vineyard truck out of the parking lot, Wyatt in the rearview, hands cupped over his mouth. I rolled the window down. “What was that?” I asked, pretending not to understand his previous exaggerated miming.
“Cereal killer donut!”
I waved my hand out the window. Once I asked to take the truck to this place, his entire face lit up.
Apparently, his favorite donut shop was in the same town.
He gave me the keys as long as I promised to bring him back a box of cereal killer donuts.
I agreed, even though I could have easily just had Sherry get the keys.
But Wyatt could have fired my ass, and he didn’t, so the least I could do was get the man a box of donuts.
“Don’t forget those donuts,” Sherry said from the passenger seat. “He’ll never let you live it down. Every chance he gets it’ll be, ‘Remember that time you told me you’d get me donuts, and you didn’t?’” She laughed in a way a sister would laugh at her brother’s antics.
“You know him well.”
“He’s been part of our lives for so long,” Sherry said. “He’s family.”
It amazed me how easily she and her family loved.
Wyatt wasn’t blood, yet they acted as if he were.
My own family never as much showed me an ounce of affection.
I was a means to an end. My family's love came with conditions, expectations, and power plays, and even then, I wasn’t sure it was actually love.
Sherry glanced over, beautiful as ever in the late spring sunlight, her hand resting lightly on my own. “You okay?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road. “Just grateful, which feels kind of weird, considering everything that’s happened.” She offered me a slight smile that went right to my heart.
“Grateful is a good place to be, even when things are messy.” Her fingers laced through mine, hand tightening. “I appreciate you going with me.”
“I wasn’t going to let you go without me.”
“I know.”
Silence spread between us, and though it was slightly uncomfortable, I wanted to sit in it. It held everything we didn’t know how to say.
After a moment, Sherry turned to me. “I want to trust you,” she said, and I could barely hear her over the hum of the engine.
“But?”
She inhaled, her chest rising and falling with the enormity of it. “I’m scared.”
“I don’t want you to be scared.” I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Tell me how to fix it.”
“You’re trying, and that’s more than I expected.” Her voice cracked on the last word. She blinked a few times as if she was holding off tears. I hated I caused her any pain or any doubt about my feelings for her. I needed to fix this.
“I’ll keep trying, keep showing up until you trust me again.”
“I trust you enough to know that’s true.”
“Good.” I kissed her knuckles again and let our hands fall to the space between us. She didn’t let go, and there was no way in hell I was letting go, either.
An hour later, after we secured Wyatt’s donuts, we pulled into the parking lot and hopped out of the truck.
The place was a bit run down, the sign above the warehouse was faded, and one of the letters hung crooked, but the open bay doors revealed rows of vintage furniture neatly stacked inside.
A woman with a thick braid and paint-stained jeans approached us, wiping her hands on a rag.
“You must be the ones Murray called about.”
“That would be us,” I said.
“I’m Claire. He said you were looking for something rustic, charming, and available on short notice.”
“Exactly,” Sher said, stepping forward with a relieved smile.
Claire jerked her head toward the warehouse. “Then you came to the right place. Just watch your step. Charm like this tends to come with uneven floorboards and the occasional splinter.”
“Noted,” I said as we followed Claire inside.
Sherry stumbled slightly, and I grabbed her waist, steadying her.
“Found one of those floorboards.” A slight laugh slipped from her mouth as her gaze took everything in. “Wow. This is amazing. No wonder Murray has kept it a secret.”
“I usually don’t rent directly. I’m more of a supplier. Murray said you were good people and wouldn’t trash my stuff.”
Sherry winced. “That was generous of him, considering we just sent him a truck full of damaged furniture.”
She didn’t have to tell Claire that, but that just proved the type of person Sherry was. She was good in a way that wasn’t forced, just who she was.
Claire waved it off. “Murray said it wasn’t your fault. Something about a ‘prick with a grudge’.” She glanced at us. “I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need to. Murray’s word is enough.”
Which is why I knew Alec had nothing to do with the damage. Murray never would have hired him if he was someone who couldn’t be trusted. I felt bad for practically attacking the poor guy, but that was what my father did to me. I was asking Sherry to trust me, yet I didn’t trust anyone.
Claire turned toward a gorgeous reclaimed wood table. “You can take your pick of whatever is available. There are tags on pieces that are reserved or sold. I’ve got delivery options if you’re ready to move fast.”
“We are,” Sherry said. “I have an engagement party Saturday afternoon, and I promised the bride-to-be something unforgettable.”
“Then let’s make sure you deliver. Come on. I have some gems in the back that not many people know about.”
Claire led the way, and Sherry bumped my shoulder, a smile blooming wide on her face. I kept close to Sherry, maintaining a steady lookout for any of those uneven floorboards.
Her eyes sparkled probably with ideas as we walked past velvet-covered chaise lounges, distressed wood tables with all the imperfections that made them authentic and more eclectic pieces, like license plate-covered bars and lampshades.
We weaved in and out of furniture mazes. Sherry’s hip bumped a table and a stained-glass lamp teetered. I grabbed the table and anchored it before either piece could tip over.
Sherry turned around, completely unaware she almost caused a crash. Her gaze landed on my hands as I slowly eased away from the table. Her teeth clenched, and her nose scrunched.
“Did I do that?” she mouthed. I nodded and laughed at the adorable, oblivious wrecking ball that she was.
We continued until we made it to the back. No wonder not many people knew about this section. It was a maze just to make it back here.
“That one!” Sherry said, pointing to a crushed purple velvet couch with rivets.
Her arm grazed a floor lamp, and I caught the chain before it clunked into the glass stem.
“The bride’s colors are purple and orange, and that will be the perfect place for her to sit while she opens her gifts.
I can place barrels on either side and prop up glass vases filled with orange ranunculus and zinnias, deep purple lisianthus, and trailing eucalyptus to add a touch of green and break up the brightness. ”
“I’m guessing you’ll need vases next,” Claire said.
“You have those, too?” Sherry asked.
“Of course. That’s in another room.” She took out a tag and placed it on the lounge. “Do you want delivery, or you think we’ll be able to fit everything in your truck?”
Sherry looked at me. “Why don’t we wait until she’s done?” A smile cracked my mouth. “Right now, I’d say we could fit it no problem, but this place is huge, and her imagination is bigger.”
“Smart man,” Claire said, and Sherry turned and patted my chest, a big grin on her too kissable lips.
“He is,” Sherry agreed, then followed Claire to a room filled with so much glass I was afraid to breathe in fear of disturbing the air and knocking something over.
Three hours later, the truck was packed with that first crushed velvet lounge, along with tables and chairs, vases, and even vintage China. We thanked Claire and headed out.
I came to a stop at a stop sign and turned my head to Sherry. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Go out to dinner with me?”
Her eyebrow arched.
“Let me make up for our last dinner. I was distracted, and it wasn’t the best date, and you deserve the best.”
She glanced at her dust-stained blouse and pants. “I look like I just climbed out of the gutter.”
“You look beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed that pretty pink. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
I snagged her hand and brought it to my mouth, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “Good, because I wasn’t taking no as an answer.”
“I figured as much, but this place better have carbs and good wine.”
“Luckily for you, we just sent a bunch of cases over to a little place in town. Hope you like pasta.”
“Only a psychopath wouldn’t like pasta.”
I laughed. “Tell that to my mother. She has a fear of all carbs.”
Sherry mock gasped. “She has no idea what she’s missing out on. I tried giving carbs up once, but kind of impossible when your best friend is the best baker to grace the planet.”
“I swear my mother thinks if she takes one bite of cake, she would summon the apocalypse.”
“Would she judge me for my love of cake?”
“Probably,” I admitted. “But she judges everyone, especially her own son.”
“Good thing I don’t need her approval.”
“I wouldn’t want you to have it.” The words came out rougher than I intended. “Means you’re doing something right.”
She laughed, loud and boisterous. “That might be the most messed up, but nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“Welcome to my world.”
The laughter faded, and her expression softened. “In spite of her, you turned out pretty okay.”
I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and put the truck in park. Warmth radiated from her and wrapped around me. “Pretty okay?” My lip quirked.
She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Fine. You’re more than okay.”
“That’s better.” I brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. The desire to close the space between us and crash my mouth to hers was almost impossible to ignore, but I held strong. She needed time, and I was going to respect her wishes.