Chapter 10
Jake
T he next day, I’m in the fields by sunrise and work until the sun is starting to set, until every muscle is screaming and I’m covered in dirt and sweat. I don’t know if I’m mad at Rosa or myself—or maybe a combination of both. I do know that I hate being anyone’s dirty little secret. Our elopement may have been a secret, but it wasn’t dirty. Just something special for the two of us. We wanted to protect it, keep it safe.
We weren’t wrong. As soon as her uncle found out, he destroyed it. Destroyed us.
But after our conversation last night, I feel like a dirty little secret, and I don’t like it.
I head down the hill to the back of the house, stopping at the shed to clean and put away my equipment. The interns will start soon. I need to focus on getting this vineyard in shape so that once Bianca is back and harvest begins, they’re in the perfect place to move forward.
And I can move on.
When I step inside the mudroom at the back of the house, I hear Rosa puttering around somewhere—probably the kitchen. I’m a mess, plus I don’t really want to face her yet, so I head upstairs. A shower sounds nice right about now.
In the bathroom, I strip down, leaving my grimy work clothes in a pile on the floor. I turn on the shower, the bathroom filling with steam. Even though it was a warm day earlier, the evening chill is setting in, and the hot spray feels amazing on my sore muscles.
I soap up, washing away the dirt and stress of the day as I think back on my argument with Rosa. I shouldn’t have thrown the kiss in her face like that, especially since I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance.
I wasn’t lying when I told her it was in my top ten.
Even though it was over almost before it started.
Kissing Rosa again, after so many years, was a revelation. I was so sure I was over her. Now I just don’t know.
I turn into the spray, letting the water run over my head.
I can’t lie to myself anymore. I want her more than ever.
A carousel of images flashes through my brain.
Rosa lifting up onto her toes, pressing against me, her mouth on mine.
I close my eyes, and my soapy hand drifts lower, pressing over my thickening cock.
Her lips wrapping around a forkful of dessert, her eyes closing in bliss.
I may have told her that living under the same roof was just a matter of location and convenience, but I lied.
Staying here, just down the hall, is pure torture.
The light from the hallway turning her pajamas transparent, her body lush and tempting.
Head bowed, I brace a hand against the shower wall and begin to stroke myself.
Rosa, naked and eager, arms wide, welcoming me to her bed.
My cock is hard and leaking precum already. This isn’t going to take long.
Rosa underneath me, head tipped back in ecstasy.
Those last two may be a decade old, but they’re enough. My balls draw up, and I come, breath shuddering out in great gasps as I try to stay as quiet as possible. The shower washes away the remnants of my orgasm as I scrub the guilt off my skin.
She deserves better than me. But I will never stop wanting her anyway.
* * *
The last thing I want to do after that is sit down to dinner with Rosa and try to make fucking small talk, so I head for the front door, shout down the hall that she shouldn’t bother to wait up for me, and leave.
The drive into town doesn’t give me nearly enough time to figure out what I’m going to do that will keep me occupied and gone until she’s asleep, so I just park and start walking around.
After today’s argument, she’ll probably be pissed off that I’m so visible in town yet again, but it’s not like I have many other options. My parents live four hours away now, and most of my high school friends have either moved or are part of the gossipy wine community Rosa wants to keep out of the loop for as long as possible.
The shops are closed up, but the restaurants and bars are hopping, so I pick a hole-in-the-wall at random.
As luck would have it, Rosa’s cousin Leo is the first person I see when I walk into the place.
I groan internally, because he’s just about the last person I want to see, unless you count Rosa.
For completely different reasons, of course. I don’t want to get into Leo’s pants.
I debate turning around and leaving, but he’s already seen me, and it would be too obvious I’m avoiding him if I leave now.
Instead, I let myself get waved over and sit down with his group. He was only a year ahead of me in school, so I recognize some—but not all—of the guys he’s hanging out with as well. I order a beer and sit back, figuring I might as well see what the gossip mill has to say these days.
“Hey, Jake. Sorry to hear about your folks’ place.”
I nod at Leo, accepting the condolences, even though hearing that phrase over and over is like nails on a chalkboard. Everyone’s sorry, but no one did anything to stop it from happening, now did they?
Not even me.
The rest of the group chimes in, and I do my best to be polite and gracious and shit. My beer arrives, and I take a long pull.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it.
The guy sitting next to me introduces himself. He’s the new winery manager at Vintage Vines.
Well, not so new. He’s been there seven years apparently.
“I’m actually a little surprised this is the first time I’ve met you,” he says. “You don’t get back to the Canyon much, do you?”
“Nope.”
Bruce leans in. “Jake here couldn’t wait to leave town.”
I start to protest, but honestly, he’s not wrong.
“Well, it’s nice to put a face to the name,” Steven says, then turns to answer somebody else’s question.
I try to pay attention to the conversations around me, but half the time I don’t even know who they’re talking about. I guess there’s been more change in Oak Creek than I realized.
“So what’s Belmonte going to do without the Carleo?”
I glance side-eyed at the guy at the other end of the table, Mark or Matt or something. I try not to look like I’m interested in hearing about this, too.
Leo leans back in his chair, seemingly unconcerned. “We’ll get the grapes.”
“Not what I heard.” Bruce props one elbow on the table. “Rosa’s being a real hard-ass about it.”
“She’ll come around.”
“Not like she can keep the place running solo,” someone else adds, and Leo shakes his head.
“Not solo anymore,” he says. “Or at least that’s what she told my dad today. But whoever it is, they won’t be there long.”
Matt or Mark nods. “Nobody would be that stupid.”
Leo shoots him a glare. Mark or Matt—or is it Mike?—snaps his mouth shut and looks down.
My spidey sense is tingling like whoa, but I can’t say anything without drawing attention to the fact that I’m in town and qualified and Rosa’s husband.
Or, as far as everyone at this table is concerned, her ex-boyfriend.
I’m really hoping none of them put two and two together.
“So what brings you back to Oak Creek, Jake?” Bruce shoves a handful of peanuts into his mouth and chews loudly. “I thought your parents moved out of town after the sale.”
“They did,” I say, thinking quickly. “But a lot of their stuff is in storage here. I need to go through it, make sure I’ve got everything that’s mine.”
It’s a stupid excuse. I already told Wade I’m working with Rosa, and if I’m still around a week from now they’ll know I was just blowing smoke.
But for now, it’ll do.
“Actually, I should get down there before they close for the night,” I improvise, swallowing the last of my beer and standing. I toss a twenty onto the table to cover my share. “Nice to see y’all.”
Then I get the hell out before they start asking any more questions.
* * *
I’m on the outskirts of town when I pass by the storage facility. On impulse, I pull in and drive around to Mom and Dad’s unit.
I wasn’t lying, exactly. They do have a storage unit here, and I was planning to dig around in it, make sure I got all my stuff before leaving town again.
It just isn’t in the top fifty reasons I’m here, is all.
I check my watch. The place closes in forty-five minutes. Might as well take a look around while I can. I dig the keys out of the glove box and turn off the truck.
When I lift open the garage door to the unit, my heart sinks. I was afraid of this.
It’s the largest unit the place offers, and it is jam packed.
Boxes line every wall, up to the ceiling. Furniture, wrapped in plastic and resting on pallets to keep it off the ground, crowds the center of the concrete floor. There are plastic locking totes and several filing cabinets and, inexplicably, a Lethal Weapon pinball machine.
When did they get a pinball machine? And why are they storing it here ?
Sighing, I reach for the closest box. There’s a notation on it, in Mom’s handwriting, that says Holiday Dishes . If I’m lucky, that’s what will actually be in it.
If not, this crap could end up being enough to keep me here all summer, just like I told Leo and his friends.
I open the box and look inside.
* * *
Forty minutes later, I’m startled by the sweep of a headlight beam as the manager of the storage facility drives up. He rolls down the driver’s-side window. “Five minutes until close,” he calls, and I nod.
Luckily for me, Mom was meticulous in her labeling, so I’ve been able to be organized in my digging. I pack up a few more pieces of childhood memorabilia and put them on the passenger seat. It’s not everything—I’ll have to come back again—but I did find the box I’d packed up the summer before I left Oak Creek Canyon, along with a few other things, and that’s enough for now.
I grab the last item and turn off the light, closing and locking the storage-unit door. I follow the manager’s car out of the facility, and he waves while he locks the gate behind me.
The local store is still open, so I swing into the parking lot.
I grin as I walk inside.
Rosa is going to be pissed .