Chapter 33
Thirty-three
Ginny
It’s been a week and a half of bliss and nerves and hiding in plain sight. Ryker and I have been living in a bubble, pretending our last names don’t come with baggage or, at least ,that none of it matters. We’ve cooked dinner together. Slept tangled up. Laughed until our stomachs hurt.
My new job at the consortium is already keeping me busy.
I swear I’ve heard from every one of the two hundred vineyards involved, except Black Bear.
Everyone has ideas, demands, complaints, and pet projects they’re sure I should prioritize.
It’s more work than will ever fit into part-time hours, but I love it because this is all mine.
Something I’m building on my own, without Black Bear or the Dempsey name.
Ryker has asked me again to come to Sunday dinner with his family.
I said no. Just the thought of it makes my stomach twist. The last family dinner I went to at Gran’s was a full-blown disaster, and now, the idea of sitting around someone else’s table pretending everything’s normal?
Instant dry heaves. I told him I wasn’t ready.
And then Vicky Paradise calls.
I almost don’t answer. The number pops up on my screen while I’m elbows deep in a marketing plan I’m presenting to the consortium, and for a second, my heart nearly stops.
But I put on my big-girl panties, remember what Ryker says about his mom being supportive of us, and decide to stop running away.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Ginny?” Her voice is warm, soft with the edges of a smile.
I fumble the phone a bit. “Hi, yes, this is Ginny.”
“It’s Vicky Paradise. Ryker’s mom. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
Panic bubbles in my throat. Could this be an ambush? What if this is it? The moment it all explodes. The moment she tells me I’m not welcome near her son, her dinner table, her family.
“No, not at all,” I manage, brushing a stray hair off my blouse with a shaky hand.
“I was wondering, ” she says, and I swear I brace like I’m about to be hit, “if you’d like to come to Sunday dinner.”
I blink. “Oh! Ahhh…”
“I think Ryker has mentioned it to you,” she continues. “But I thought a personal invitation might be helpful. I’ll make my lemon chicken and roasted potatoes. That’s Ryker’s favorite.”
“Oh,” I breathe. “That’s really kind of you.”
“You’ve been on my mind,” she continues.
“I know things between our families haven’t always been…
simple. But you’re important to Ryker, so you’re important to us.
And Ryker…” She trails off for a second, then chuckles.
“He’s different lately. Softer. Happier.
I think maybe you’ve had something to do with that. ”
Tears prick behind my eyes.
“I’m not trying to pressure you,” she adds, as if she can sense me spiraling. “I know how complicated this probably feels. I just wanted you to know you’re welcome. Always.”
It’s her tone more than her words that undoes me, so open, so Ryker. Suddenly, I can picture him as a boy, sitting at her table, learning how to be gentle and bold in equal measure.
“I’d love to come,” I whisper.
“Wonderful,” she says, and I can hear her smile. “Dinner’s at six on Sunday night. No pressure to stay all evening, but I’m really glad you said yes.”
I smile. So am I. Even if I’m terrified.
Two days later, I’m pacing in the guest room at Sadie and Beckett’s, trying not to have a full-blown panic attack.
Sadie keeps swearing it’s not scary. She keeps reminding me she’ll be there too. “It only gets heated when Max or Zach shows up,” she said, like that’s supposed to be comforting. As if I’m not already one awkward comment away from bursting into flames.
Eventually, I settle on my favorite sundress—soft cotton, pale yellow, the one I always feel like me in. But even as I slip it on and smooth it over my hips, my hands feel jittery.
Dinner at Paradise Hill. With Ryker’s entire family, well, hopefully not Max and Zach.
I look at myself in the mirror and try to breathe. I’ve already said yes. I’m already going.
Sadie yells goodbye from the other room. She and Beckett are leaving early to meet with his parents about the wedding. I tell her I’ll see her soon.
A little while later, Ryker arrives to pick me up. As he steps through the doorway, his mouth curves. “You look beautiful,” he says. “That sundress is dangerous.”
I laugh, tugging at the hem. “It’s just a dress.”
“It’s you in the dress,” he counters, brushing a kiss across my cheek. His eyes linger on mine. “You look nervous, but you’ve got nothing to worry about, Gin. Not with me.”
As we drive toward Paradise Hill, my nerves keep climbing like they’re strapped to a rocket. My hands are clenched in my lap until I finally blurt out, “We have to stop.”
Ryker glances over. “Stop?”
“I’m not showing up empty-handed,” I insist. “I may be a Dempsey, but I’m not rude.”
He laughs, but I can’t tell if it’s amusement or nerves of his own. “Ginny, they’re not expecting anything—”
“I am,” I snap, already pulling out my phone to find the nearest wine shop. “And if I walk in there with nothing, your mom will smile like everything’s fine while mentally questioning my manners.”
“It’s a good thing I love you,” he says as he backtracks to town.
He stops at a small boutique next to the liquor store. I make a beeline for the flowers and spot a bouquet of soft pink hydrangeas wrapped in brown paper and twine. They’re beautiful and old-fashioned and somehow remind me of Vicky.
I collect them like I’m bracing for war with floral armor. After whipping out my credit card for the flowers, we step into the liquor store. I immediately regret it.
“So many options,” I murmur, scanning the racks. “And they’re all competitors.” I hold up a sleek bottle of Black Bear Chardonnay and turn to Ryker. “This one beat Paradise at last year’s International Wine Festival. Maybe I should bring it? See how fast I can get myself banned for life?”
Ryker chokes out a laugh. “Tarryn would actually kick you out. And I wouldn’t even blame her.”
“Yeah, okay, fine.” I smirk, putting it back. “Something less offensive then.”
I find my favorite ice wine tucked in the corner—a golden Ontario dessert wine I discovered years ago and always save for special occasions.
“This one,” I say. “Sweet. Classy. Non-threatening. Basically the liquid version of vanilla gelato. Perfect for impressing your boyfriend’s mom.”
Ryker kisses my temple. “They’re going to love it. And they’re going to love you.”
I nod and try to believe him.
But as we pull back onto the road toward the vineyard, all I can feel is a tight ache inside me and the pressure of every single Dempsey expectation whispering that this is a very bad idea.
The flowers are in my lap. The wine’s tucked carefully in a bag at my feet. And I still feel like I might throw up.
Ryker reaches over and threads his fingers through mine. His thumb brushes the inside of my wrist, slow and steady, like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “You’re going to be great,” he says softly.
I stare out the window. The vineyard signs are getting closer. My heart is in my throat. “You don’t know that,” I whisper.
“I do,” he says. “Because I know you.”
I glance over. He’s watching the road, calm as ever, like bringing me home isn’t a risk at all. Like he’s not walking a tightrope between the people who raised him and the woman who might ruin everything.
“They already love you,” he adds as we arrive. “They just don’t know it yet.”
He studies me once he’s parked, like he knows I’m spinning out and wants to say something more. But then he just squeezes my hand and walks around to the passenger side. When he takes my hand again, I hold on tight.
Paradise Hill looks exactly the same, warm and sprawling, the vineyard stretching out like something out of a painting. But tonight, it feels different. Like I’m taking a pop quiz on a subject I’ve never even heard of, with all the right answers scribbled in invisible ink.
Vicky and Trace are waiting outside on the front porch. She’s in a pale blue sundress, waving like I’m an old friend. Trace is beside her in a crisp button-down, arms folded, a familiar Paradise smile on his face.
I force a bright expression as we approach, bouquet in hand.
“Oh, these are beautiful,” Vicky says, taking the hydrangeas from me gently, like they’re made of glass.
“I wasn’t sure what to bring,” I admit. “But I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”
Vicky’s eyes crinkle as she looks down at the blooms. “Did Ryker tell you these are my favorite?”
I glance at him, startled. He shakes his head slightly.
“No,” I say. “He just said you liked pink.”
“Well, he was right,” she says with a smile. “And clearly, so were you.”
She disappears inside, calling over her shoulder, “Let me find a vase.”
I’m still processing that when Trace steps closer and plucks the bottle of ice wine from the bag I handed him.
“I love ice wine,” he says, inspecting the label. “Haven’t had this one before. I’m looking forward to it with dessert.” He gives me a grin. “Might not share it, though. We’ll see how the night goes.”
I manage a laugh, nervous and high-pitched, but he’s teasing, not testing. Still, the knot in my stomach refuses to loosen.
Two down. An entire family and dinner to go.
Ryker takes my hand again as we step inside, guiding me through the front hall toward the kitchen. I hear them before I see them, voices overlapping, laughter bouncing off the walls, someone teasing someone else about overcooking the chicken.
It’s loud and chaotic. Not at all what I expected or am used to.
And then—
“Ginny!”
Sadie’s voice cuts through everything, and a second later, she’s barreling across the room, arms flung wide.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy you’re here!” she squeals, wrapping me in a hug before I can brace myself.
I blink, startled, and let out a laugh that’s more nerves than joy.
Sadie pulls back and beams. “You guys, Ryker and Ginny—I mean, come on. Look at them. I called this, like, months ago. You’re all welcome.” She waves at the rest of the group dramatically. “This love match was brought to you by me.”
Ryker groans beside me. “Sadie—”
“Don’t ruin my moment.” She loops her arm through mine and pulls me farther into the room.
“Okay, this is Trinity—Greyson’s wife, and basically the nicest human alive, and she’s the mother to that adorable little boy on Beckett’s lap, Theo.
Everyone else you already know, so no need for intros.
If they act weird, just assume it’s normal and move on. ”
Trinity offers me a warm smile and a gentle hello, and I manage to squeak out a reply.
The rest of the room is a blur, faces I’ve seen at fundraisers or walking through town, but never like this. Not this loud, this casual, this close.
My stomach flips. I’m not one of them.
But Ryker squeezes my hand, and Sadie’s still talking a mile a minute at my side, so maybe I won’t crash and burn after all.
For a moment, I manage to forget who I am and who I’m not. But peace never lasts in this town, not with the last name Dempsey. And the second the front door opens again, the air shifts. Max and Zach have arrived.