Sixteen
Greyson
I pace the length of my bedroom, the phone in my hand a silent accuser. The screen mocks me with its lack of new messages, an unfamiliar possessiveness taking root. I’ve never been territorial, but with Trinity, it’s different. She’s spending all her time with Liz, and a part of me—a part I don’t recognize—resents that. It’s just a weekend. Get a grip.
The phone buzzes, and I jump. It’s Tarryn.
“Greyson, you have to meet me for brunch today,” she says without preamble when I answer. “Zane is driving me up the wall with his chaotic management, or lack thereof.”
“Tarryn, I’m not sure—”
“Please,” she interrupts. “I need to vent before I lose it completely.”
“Fine.” I push aside images of Trinity laughing with Liz. “Paradise Grill, eleven?”
“Perfect,” she says. “Thanks.”
I end the call and draft a text to Trinity. The simple good-morning text I sent over two hours ago remains unanswered. The silence from her end breeds not just jealousy, but fear. Fear that every moment she spends with Liz is one less I’ll have with her. Fear that, no matter what I say or do, she’ll leave for Vancouver and take with her this part of me I didn’t know I could give away.
With a sigh, I pocket my phone and prepare to face the day.
I arrive early at the vineyard, visitors already filling the grounds. The summer weekend crowd is in full swing, and after parking I decide to avoid the bustling entrance, slipping instead through the back way that weaves between rows of lush greenery. The scent of earth and growing things calms my restless thoughts.
As I navigate the familiar paths, I spot my father and Uncle Max ahead, bent intently over something in the vines with Mitch and Elise Anderson. They’re deep in conversation, two seasoned vintners reading the land like an old, well-loved book.
“Greyson,” my father calls as he catches sight of me. “What brings you out here so early?”
“Brunch with Tarryn,” I answer, keeping my tone light despite the funk that’s settled over me like a persistent fog. “She invited me over to catch up.”
“Is it woman trouble?” he probes.
I manage a half-smile, shrugging off the question. “Nothing like that,” I lie, unwilling to admit how much Trinity’s absence gnaws at me. And I certainly don’t want to alert Uncle Max to the real reason Tarryn called this brunch. “Anyway, what has you both so focused this fine morning?” I look over at Mitch and Elise, who have their arms crossed.
My father’s expression turns somber. “It’s the pinot grapes. They aren’t recovering like we expected.”
“We knew the early frost took their buds away,” I offer.
“And last summer’s fire didn’t help them,” Uncle Max adds.
Dad points to the base of the vines, which are dry and barren despite careful watering.
“Damn. Life’s cycle, I suppose…” Though it feels like admitting defeat. My gaze lingers on the stunted growth, a pang of empathy stirring within me. Those vines, struggling to survive, remind me of my current situation—trying to thrive when the odds seem stacked against success.
Uncle Max’s fingers trace the withered vines, his eyes filled with a stubborn hope. “We should give ’em another year,” he insists with a resilience born from decades tending this land.
“Elise and Mitch don’t think they’ll come back,” Dad counters.
They shake their heads from a few paces away. Their expertise lies in coaxing life from the soil, yet they seem resigned to the loss.
“Maybe we could start fresh with some of the vines,” I suggest. Uncle Max shoots me a look that could curdle wine, but I continue. “The ones by the visitor center took the worst hit. It might be time to let them go.”
“Replace them?” My father mulls over my words, the furrow in his brow softening. “That would mean waiting five years for a new harvest.”
“Five years…” I echo, knowing the gravity of that span. “But if the others come back next year, you’ll have more possibilities.”
“All right,” Dad says after a heavy pause. “We’ll have to consider our options.”
I nod, and with a final glance at the fading vines, I turn and make my way to Paradise Grill, where Tarryn awaits.
The onsite restaurant buzzes with the clinking of cutlery and soft murmurs of conversation as I push through the glass doors, scanning the room until I spot her. She’s already at our family table—a large one in the corner that’s always reserved for us unless there’s a big party.
“Greyson!” She smiles. “You made it.”
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late. I ran into Dad and Max at the pinot vines.”
Her face clouds. “What did they say?”
“Max wants to wait another year. I think Dad is leaning toward pulling them. I offered the middle ground—replace the ones next to the visitors center and wait on the others.”
Megan, our server, approaches. “Good morning, Tarryn. The usual?”
“Absolutely,” Tarryn answers. “Eggs benedict and a mimosa, please.”
“Coming right up.” Megan scribbles the order onto her pad, then looks to me expectantly.
“Black coffee,” I say, “a spinach omelet and a side salad.” It’s a step toward the semblance of normalcy I’m craving.
“Since when do you eat that healthy?” Tarryn asks.
“Believe it or not, I’m getting too old to eat junk food and be able to make it through my shifts at the hospital.” I force a chuckle. It actually really sucks.
Megan flashes a smile, promising our drinks will arrive shortly before sashaying away. She casts a wink over her shoulder, aimed directly at me, but it slides off like water on waxed canvas, unnoticed.
“Did you see that?” Tarryn nudges my elbow. “She’s clearly into you.”
“See what?” I ask, scanning the room absently.
Tarryn leans forward, her gaze sharpening. “Greyson Paradise, are you blind? Megan was flirting with you.”
“Was she?” I feel a shrug lift my shoulders. “I didn’t notice.”
“Didn’t notice or don’t care?” Tarryn probes. Her fingers brush my arm, a gesture meant to tether my wandering focus. “Is there someone else?”
I hesitate, and Trinity’s face appears in my mind, bright and beautiful, yet so heartbreakingly temporary. “ It’s not like that,” I begin, shaking my head. “I’m seeing someone, yes, but she’s only here for a few more weeks. She’s from Vancouver, helping her mom out.”
“Ah,” Tarryn nods, her lips curving into a sympathetic smile. She doesn’t press further, but her eyes tell me she understands.
I lace my fingers in front of me on the table. “Anyway, what did Zane do now?”
“I’m so angry I could spit. He keeps running to Dad with ideas and changes, and he can’t even manage the tasting room schedule right.”
I nod along and let her ramble. She’s only looking to vent. She doesn’t need me to fix her problems or offer solutions.
And then I see her. She’s right here in the restaurant. That can’t be an accident.
“Are you even listing to me?” Tarryn asks, following my line of sight to the entrance. “Wait. Is that her?”
“Trinity.” Her name escapes on a sigh as she steps into the restaurant with Liz in tow. The mere sight of her sends something akin to an electric current down my spine, jolting me back to life.
Tarryn leans in, her voice low. “I know we have things to talk about, but go ahead, invite them over.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, grateful for her understanding. Pushing back my chair, I stride over to where Trinity and Liz are being escorted by the hostess.
“Greyson!” Liz greets me. She pulls me into a hug that’s all warmth and welcome.
“Hey, Liz,” I say, returning the embrace before turning to Trinity. Her hug is careful, tentative, like she’s holding back a secret or a worry I’m not privy to. It twists something inside me, but I let it slide for now.
“Would you two like to join us?” I gesture back to the family table where Tarryn sits, watching the exchange with an unreadable expression. “We’re just having brunch.”
Their agreement comes readily, and I feel a swell of relief. I lead Trinity and Liz to our table, Tarryn’s smile broadening as we approach.
“Good morning! It’s lovely to meet you both,” she says, standing to shake hands. “I’m Tarryn, Greyson’s sister.”
Trinity introduces herself, returning the handshake with an easy grace.
“And I’m Liz,” chimes in her best friend.
“So, what brings you out this way today?” Tarryn asks once we’re all seated.
“We saw my mom earlier.” Trinity beams. “She’s doing really well, which is such a relief. So now we thought we’d explore the vineyard—maybe pick up a few bottles of wine.”
“Sounds like a perfect Sunday,” Tarryn remarks. She turns to me. “Greyson, you should give them the exclusive Paradise Vineyards tour after we eat. You know the grounds better than anyone.”
I nod, catching Trinity’s eye. She seems open to the prospect, and it’s a chance to spend a little more time with her, away from the crowds. “I’d love to. Consider it part of the Paradise experience.”
“Can’t say no to that,” Liz quips, her grin widening.
Before another word can be exchanged, Megan returns, pad in hand, ready to take our new guests’ orders. Trinity opts for the quiche of the day while Liz goes for Belgian waffles.
As Megan scribbles down their choices, two familiar figures stroll into the restaurant. My brothers Beckett and Ryker make their entrance with typical bravado, their eyes lighting up when they spot Trinity and Liz.
“Morning,” Beckett grunts, sliding into a seat beside Liz, who offers him a playful wink.
“Did you clone yourselves?” Liz teases, her gaze flitting between my brothers and me. “You all look so alike.”
“Perks of the gene pool,” Ryker chuckles, slipping into the booth across from her.
“Is there another one of you hiding somewhere?” Liz asks .
Tarryn laughs. “Yes, actually. Our oldest brother, Kingston. He’s a bit of a hermit these days. You probably won’t run into him.”
“Too bad,” Liz replies, a mock pout on her lips. “I was hoping to complete the set.”
I watch the exchange, feeling a twinge of pride for my family and the legacy we’ve built here. And for a moment, amidst the laughter and light-hearted banter, all thoughts of territory and jealousy fade into the background.
A little while later, I cradle a warm mug of coffee between my hands as Megan sets down plates of steaming food.
“Trinity,” Tarryn says as we eat. “Greyson mentioned that you work in hospital administration. Tell us more about that.”
Trinity smiles. “Well, during his MedTalk, Greyson had some choice words about hospital administrators. I found that amusing since we’re the ones making sure he gets paid.” Her playful jab sends a ripple of laughter around the table, and I can’t help but chuckle along.
“Touché,” I concede with a grin.
She explains briefly about her work with the electronic medical records project and then volleys the conversation back toward Tarryn. “Managing the Paradise clan can’t be easy,” Trinity says. “How do you keep all these guys in line?”
Tarryn tilts her head back and laughs. “Oh, it’s a full-time job all right, but I’ve got an edge. They all followed Mom into medicine, and I chose a different path. I’ll be running this vineyard someday. Each brother plays his part, but I’m the conductor keeping the tempo.”
“Seems like you’ve got everything under control,” Trinity replies.
“Control is an illusion when it comes to these boys,” Tarryn says, winking at me. “But let’s just say, I know how to pull the right strings.”
Pride swells within me. My family, with all its quirks and chaos, is bound by strong, capable women like Tarryn .
I’m leaning back in my chair, the remnants of my spinach omelet still on the plate in front of me, the salad untouched, when Trinity and Tarryn excuse themselves for a moment. Once they disappear toward the restroom, Liz slides over to the seat next to me. I know I’m in for something.
She crosses her arms. “You and Trinity. You’re more alike than you realize.”
The comment throws me, and I sit up straighter. “Alike how?”
She gives me a look, like I’ve asked the most obvious question in the world. “You’re both runners.”
I blink, taken aback. “I don’t run.”
Liz arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, really? Tell me, Greyson, when’s the last time you were in a relationship that lasted longer than six months?”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Liz doesn’t wait for an answer.
“That’s what I thought,” she says, her voice softening just enough to keep it from feeling like an attack. “You keep people at arm’s length, same as she does. And don’t get me wrong, I get it. Life’s easier when you don’t let anyone get too close. No mess, no heartbreak. But it’s also lonelier.”
Her words settle over me, and I glance away, staring at the condensation on my glass. “It’s not the same,” I mutter, though even I don’t believe it.
“Isn’t it?” she presses. “You both want the same thing, Greyson. You want love, real love, but you’re scared to trust anyone enough to let them in. You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to leave or disappoint you, so you pull away first. Sound familiar?”
I grit my teeth, my chest tightening. “What’s your point, Liz?”
“My point,” she says, her tone firm but not unkind, “is that you’re playing the same game she is. And if neither of you stops running, you’re going to lose something that could actually be real.”
I force myself to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt her,” I say quietly.
Liz’s expression softens. “I know you don’t,” she says. “And I don’t think she wants to hurt you, either. The two of you need to figure out how to stop being scared of what you might lose and start focusing on what you could have.”
She sits back, grabbing her glass and taking a sip. “Trinity’s not the only one who needs to take a leap here, Greyson,” she adds. “You do too.”
She’s right—about all of it. “I care about her,” I say, my voice steadier now. “And I’m not going to let her go. Not without a fight.”
Liz smirks, raising her coffee cup in toast. “Good. Because if you two can figure this out, you might stand a chance. And let me tell you, Paradise, Trinity? She’s worth the risk.”
I clink my glass against hers. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Liz gives me a long, measured look before nodding. “Okay then,” she says, tipping her mug toward me. “Good luck, Paradise. You’re going to need it.”
She sits back just as Trinity and Tarryn return.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Can you tell me a bit more about the visit with your mom this morning?”
Trinity’s smile falters for a split second before she regains her composure. “She seems more comfortable in the space, not so agitated. But actually, it wasn’t all great, Greyson. She…she kept calling me Ellen.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell her. She’s trying so hard to be strong, to shoulder it all on her own, and it makes me ache to think of her doing this without anyone to lean on. I want to tell her again I’ll be there—for her, for her mom—but I think showing her is the best I can do.
“Thanks,” she replies, managing a small smile as she reaches for her glass of water. The conversation shifts, but my mind stays with Trinity, hoping I can find a way to support her through this tough time.
“Trinity’s quite something, huh?” Beckett murmurs from beside me, his voice low.
I nod, feeling the corners of my mouth twitch. There’s no hiding it from my brothers, and their knowing looks are confirmation enough. All three Paradise men seem charmed by the women who’ve joined us today.
“Greyson, you okay?” Tarryn asks.
“Yeah, just thinking about the vineyard,” I lie smoothly, gesturing vaguely toward the window and the sprawling vines.
My eyes find Trinity once more, and I see something worth the risk, worth the tangled emotions. I may not know where this path leads, but I’m prepared to walk it with care, for her sake and for my own.
Tarryn offers Liz and Trinity a tour of the restaurant, and I stay behind with my brothers. I’m nursing the last dregs of my coffee when Ryker leans in, his eyes following Liz’s every move. She’s got a laugh that fills the room, easy and free, and it’s clear he’s caught under its spell.
“Is Liz single?” he asks, a hopeful lilt in his voice.
“I’m not sure how serious she is with the guy she’s seeing,” I reply. “But she doesn’t live in Paradise.”
Ryker grins, flashing that boyish charm that’s gotten him into and out of trouble more times than I can count. “Who said anything about moving here? I was thinking about tonight.”
I roll my eyes. Classic Ryker, always living in the moment, never looking past the horizon for the next sunrise.
After a few minutes, Liz, Trinity, and Tarryn return, signaling the end of our brunch. The air seems to shift. We’re ready to move on from the meal to the vines.
“Shall we head out for the tour?” Tarryn asks.
Trinity nods. “That sounds wonderful.”
I push back my chair and focus on the opportunity ahead, a chance to share something personal, something precious—the history and heart of the vineyard .
It’s a new memory to make with Trinity, one that I hope will be worth more than just a fleeting smile or a passing conversation. As we stand, I catch Trinity’s gaze and offer a smile, promising to cherish these moments, however numbered they may be.