Chapter 10
Ariana
THE SWEETEST GIRL IN TOWN
Two chocolate croissants should be an acceptable thank-you.
I can’t remember every detail of Saturday night, but I know Cole got an earful of my drunk ramblings. I can only imagine how annoying I was.
I spent most of Sunday nursing a hangover and vowing to never let Layla talk me into shots again.
On Mondays Cole usually gets to the tasting room around eleven. I have two chocolate croissants boxed up and today’s special topped with a latte foam rose—one of my more advanced designs. I figure he’ll appreciate the extra effort.
I pack everything into a to-go bag and walk next door, not bothering to knock. It’s only once I step inside that I realize I probably should have. The woman behind the bar looks startled.
“Sorry.” I wince. “I’m looking for Cole.”
She puts on a friendly, professional smile. “Mr. Benton is at the main facility. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Do you know when he’ll be in?”
Her smile pulls tight at the corner, more forced than friendly. “He won’t be, as far as I’m aware. The tasting room has finally been turned over to staff.”
A strange drop occurs in my stomach. Not a sick feeling, but also not a good one. I think he might’ve mentioned hiring staff eventually. He didn’t once mention it would be happening so soon.
I’m not sure I’d consider us friends, but I thought he’d tell me when his last day was. At the very least come in and gloat about it.
“Is there a message you’d like me to relay to Mr. Benton?” the woman says, probably wondering why I haven’t spoken.
“Uh, no…that’s okay. I’ll just catch him later.”
I leave, return to my shop, and set aside the bag. He’ll probably stop by later. He has to. I don’t think he’s gone more than a couple of days without a chocolate croissant.
Except he doesn’t.
The following day, I’m forced to throw out the bag. The croissants get hard pretty quickly if they’re not refrigerated.
A week passes, one where every time the bell above the door jingles, I expect to see Cole finally walking through it, but he never does.
By the second week, I’m more confused than anything.
If it weren’t for the gossip mill, I’d worry something happened to him.
It’s just so odd. He went from coming in almost daily to disappearing.
I don’t usually make it a habit to keep such close tabs on my customers, but it’s hard to not notice how much quieter it’s gotten since he’s been gone.
It’s hard to not notice that he’s so obviously not next door anymore. It’s weird.
After a month, it’s nearly fall, and harvest is in full effect. It’s the busiest time of year for my family, everyone pouring every ounce of energy into it. The season also brings a wave of new faces to town—workers traveling from all over to help with the agriculture.
Novel stays steadily busy, so much so that I hardly notice Cole still hasn’t come in. Not only that, but I haven’t run into him around town either. He wasn’t even at the ladies’ night Layla dragged me to at the Jackalope right before her classes resumed.
I could always swing by Benton Winery just to see for myself that he’s perfectly fine, but that feels like an overreaction. He’s clearly busy, and it’s not like we were ever friends.
Just two people who kind of know each other. Barely.
Once October rolls around, there’s plenty to celebrate.
Elyse and Dominic got married, eloping as planned.
Ethan finally proposed to Marisa, and my oldest brother Gavin took a leap of his own, leaving Red Mountain with his daughter Lily to join Scottie in Chicago while she finishes out the last stretch of her theater contract.
After we discovered the two of them had secretly gotten married—and the initial shock wore off—the whole family has been nothing but supportive. He’s only been gone a week, and I already miss him like crazy, but I’m also ridiculously happy he’s finally found the love he’s always deserved.
As happy as I am for my siblings and all the exciting things happening in their lives, I can’t help comparing them to how utterly stagnant I feel.
Despite some minor changes I’ve made, my life isn’t all that different from what it’s always been—still spending most of my time either at Novel or with my nose buried in a novel.
Wes comes in periodically, always alone, never with Savannah. So there’s still a little hope there. He’ll flirt with me, but it never goes any further. I’m proud to say, though, that I’m no longer a tongue-tied mess around him.
And yet still no Cole.
I can’t explain why it bothers me so much. It just does. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was avoiding me. He’s obviously not. There’s no reason for him to.
He’s just really…busy.
“Hey, Benton!” a rogue male voice shouts across the coffee shop. “Over here.”
I snap my head toward the door so fast it almost hurts. But the disappointment that follows might hurt more.
It’s Blake. Cole’s younger brother.
I greet him with a strained smile as he approaches the counter. “Hey, Blake. What can I get you?”
He scratches his head, squinting at the menu.
As he contemplates his order, I study him, picking out the features he shares with Cole.
There’s no mistaking that they’re brothers, but there’s something distinctly boyish about Blake.
Part of it is his age—he’s a few years older than me, but still quite a bit younger than Cole.
He has light brown eyes, olive skin, and an easy, innocent smile that seems permanently etched on his face.
Today he’s dressed in dirty, worn jeans and a flannel, a far cry from Cole’s tailored slacks and crisp button-ups.
“I’ll take a twenty-ounce vanilla steamer and two chocolate croissants.”
His entire order makes me pause. Did he just order warm vanilla milk?
“You know the steamer doesn’t have coffee, right?”
He stares back at me like he’s confused about why I’m confused.
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I like them.”
I press my lips together, trying not to react. The man knows what he likes—who am I to question it?
“And don’t forget the two chocolate croissants,” he adds.
Why do I get the feeling at least one of those croissants isn’t for him?
“Big sweet tooth today, huh?”
“Huh?” He blinks at me, caught off guard. “Oh—no, not really. The croissants are for Cole.”
I freaking knew it.
I only charge him for the steamer, and he doesn’t seem to notice. No way in hell am I handing over those croissants. The nerve, sending his brother.
Sadie is quick to whip up his drink. When I slide it across the counter, he looks up at me with those big brown, expectant eyes.
“Tell Cole if he wants those chocolate croissants so badly, he can come in here and get them himself.”
I expect Blake to push back, but instead he barks out a laugh, shaking his head.
“Damn.” A low whistle slips past his lips. “I don’t know what he did, but it must’ve been bad if he managed to piss off the sweetest girl in town.”
“I can’t believe I’m spending my only day off this month watching the most boring sport known to man,” Layla groans.
Looping my arm through hers, I laugh as we make our way toward the clubhouse. The RMVA golf tournament doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, and Layla insists she won’t survive it without a plate of their famous nachos.
The turnout is massive, the crowd swallowing every bit of open space along the course. Together we shoulder our way through it, and I’m embarrassed to admit that beneath the shield of my sunglasses, I’m searching for one person—and one person only.
I’d nearly managed to forget all about Cole—until he sent Blake in to pick up an order he was perfectly capable of getting himself.
I told myself he wasn’t avoiding me. He’s the CEO. It’s harvest season. Life is busy.
Every excuse I made for him crumbled the second Blake walked through the door.
An explanation would be nice. I can’t imagine what I could’ve done to deserve months of very obvious avoidance.
I naively thought we were becoming friends. Real friends. At least that’s how it felt on the patio on that hot summer night. He knows things about me—intimate things.
And just as quickly as he learned some of my deepest secrets, he disappeared without warning.
Which makes me wonder if that’s not a coincidence at all.
My eyes squeeze shut, my face scrunching as I visibly cringe the longer I let that thought sit in my head.
Inside the clubhouse, Layla leads the charge to the counter. The overcrowded space practically parts for her, and all I can do is shake my head as I trail behind. If twins are born with a finite amount of luck, I’d say Layla got all of mine—and then some.
“Want anything?” she asks after ordering her nachos.
I shake my head. My appetite took a nosedive somewhere between parking and the long walk up here. I’d blame it on my impending period, but the nerves twisting in my stomach beg to differ.
Of all the people I thought I’d have anxiety over running into, I never imagined Cole would be one of them.
We settle at a table overlooking the greens. Most of our family is already scattered around the course, but since we’re the two without official job titles, we don’t have much to do besides watch.
The nachos arrive, and Layla wastes no time diving in while I fidget with the sleeve of my jacket. It’s a new jacket. One that’s actually fitted, like a lot of the clothes I’ve been buying recently.
I’m not entirely sure what sparked it, but I had some kind of revelation. Like something in my brain just clicked overnight.
I’m a curvier girl. I’ve always been a curvier girl. That’s not exactly changing anytime soon. So I made the decision to stop treating my body like a problem and start embracing it.
For most of my life I’ve tried to hide it—burying myself in oversized sweaters, baggy tops, anything that disguised my real shape. But lately I’ve been trying something different.