Chapter 15 Snapper #2
Downstairs, Wagner greeted me. We’d known each other for years—he was a good guy who made Felicity happy, which was all that mattered.
Lucas was the one who made me nervous. He came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel, and when he saw me, his brow shot up.
“About time you showed up,” he said. “Diana’s been a nervous wreck.”
We shook hands, the grip firm and familiar. Our families were intertwined—holidays, harvests, celebrations. But he was studying me differently now. Not as just another Avila kid, but as the man dating his daughter.
Diana appeared and herded everyone into the living room, insisting we all sit down and catch up. Wagner gave us the latest update on Beatrice. The surgery had gone perfectly, and the doctors were thrilled with her progress.
Felicity came down from upstairs, appearing tired but happy. “Thanks for coming. She’s been moping.”
“I have not been moping!” Saffron’s face flushed.
“You’ve checked your phone approximately eight thousand times—a day.”
Everyone laughed, and just like that, the tension eased. This was family. This was what I’d grown up with—the easy back-and-forth, the teasing, the comfortable way people who loved each other existed in the same space.
Except now I was here as Saffron’s boyfriend, not just a family friend.
Conversations about how the harvests had gone flowed easily, as did stories about Beatrice, who had both her parents wrapped around her tiny finger already.
“You sticking around Paso or heading back to the circuit?” Lucas asked at one point.
“Staying. Done with rodeo.”
His eyebrows went up. “That’s new.”
“Not that new. I’ve been thinking about it a while.”
Next to me, Saffron’s hand found mine. I squeezed her fingers and glanced over to find Diana smiling as she watched us.
After dinner, everyone headed to bed upstairs.
“We’re in here,” Saffron said, leading me into a guest room with windows that looked out over the vineyard.
“This is nice,” I said, pulling her into my arms. “God, I missed you.”
“I missed you too. So much that I decided if you changed your mind and went back to rodeo, I’d have to become a buckle bunny.”
“You already are. My only buckle bunny.”
“I better be.”
Once we were in bed, she curled into my side and rested her head on my chest above my heart.
“So, is the wine really on schedule?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Cru says it’ll be ready to taste next week.”
She tensed slightly, but I felt it.
“Hey.” I held her closer. “It’s going to be amazing.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I believe it.”
She didn’t answer, and I held her until her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.
I stayed awake longer, staring up at the darkness in the room, so happy she was in my arms for real rather than me just dreaming she was.
I woke early, like always. The house was still quiet except for the faint sound of a baby crying somewhere down the hall.
“I should check on her,” Saffron said, rolling out the other side of the bed. “I volunteered to take the first shift today since I didn’t know you were coming.”
“What can I do?” I asked, watching as she put on a robe I immediately wanted to take off her just so I could look at her naked body a few minutes longer.
“Coffee, please.” She practically groaned as she opened the door and eased out of the room.
Downstairs, I found Lucas already making a pot in the kitchen. We exchanged morning greetings, then just stood there, two men who’d known each other for years but had to navigate new territory now.
“She seems happy,” he said, pouring coffee into three mugs. “Happier than I’ve seen her in a long time.”
“I hope so.”
“You serious about her?”
The question was direct, so I’d be equally so. “Yes, sir. Very serious.”
“Good. She deserves someone who’s all in.”
“I am. All in. Maybe more than she is.”
Diana appeared then, breaking the moment. “You two bonding?”
“Just talking, sweetheart,” Lucas said, kissing her temple like I so often did with Saffron.
“I need to make a delivery,” I said, pouring cream into the second mug and adding two heaping teaspoons of sugar.
“Just as she likes it,” said Diana, watching me.
“I aim to please. Her especially.”
That got me a smile from both her parents as I left the kitchen.
Once Wagner took over baby duty, Saffron and I went downstairs to help with breakfast prep—pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage—just like it would be at my Ma’s house on Thanksgiving morning. Except she’d also have chorizo.
Saffron and I moved around each other with the same ease we’d developed while together before she left to come up here. Each time we passed each other, I’d slip my arm around her waist and pull her in for a kiss.
I caught Lucas and Diana exchanging glances, but neither commented.
After breakfast and showers, Saffron and I went for a walk. The Napa morning was clear, cooler than down in our valley, but it felt good.
“Did my mom and Felicity really set this all up?” she asked as we walked hand in hand down the sidewalk.
“Yep. They like me.”
She smiled. “You think so?”
I stopped walking. “Your dad asked if I was serious about you.”
“What did you say?”
“That I’m all in.”
She gazed up at me, searching my face. “Are you?”
“Absolutely, Saff. I really am.”
I kissed her, long and deep, right there on the neighborhood corner, not caring who saw.
By midafternoon, the house smelled like Thanksgiving—turkey roasting, onions and celery sautéing for stuffing, and the sweet smell of pie crust baking.
Everyone helped. Lucas managed the turkey with the focus of a man on a mission.
Diana directed the side dishes while Felicity supervised from the living room, holding Beatrice and calling out instructions.
Wagner and I got stuck on mashed potato duty.
“So you and Saffron?” he said as he peeled another potato.
“Yep.”
“About time.”
I smiled despite myself. “That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
“Because it’s true.” He tossed the peeled potato into the pot. “You should know there’s been a running bet about how long it would take you to make your move.”
“Yeah? Who won?”
“Lemme think. Since we had to keep renewing it year after year, I guess Lucas got the closest.”
“What did he win?”
Wagner nudged me with his shoulder. “I heard all he asked Santa for this year was another son-in-law.”
“I hope to make his Christmas wish come true,” I said. “Maybe not the wedding, but definitely the proposal.”
Wagner dropped his knife on the counter, looked around to see who else was in earshot, then squeezed my shoulder. “I can’t tell you how happy that will make Felicity.”
I didn’t say it, but the only person I cared about being happy was Saffron. And that, I wanted with all my heart.
Saffron came into the kitchen a few minutes later and set to work making her grandmother’s stuffing.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her—the way her brow furrowed in concentration as she chopped celery into uniform-size pieces and how she stuck her tongue out as she measured the turkey stock before adding it.
“What are you thinking about?” Diana asked, appearing at my elbow.
“I’ll never tell.” I winked.
“You don’t need to say anything. You’re watching my daughter like she hung the moon.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I’m pretty sure she did.”
She squeezed my arm. “She deserves someone who looks at her the way you do.”
“Not someone. Me.”
She laughed. “Better hurry up and do something about it, then. She’s been waiting on you forever.”
I wanted to tell her that it had been me waiting on Saffron. Since I was old enough to understand what forever meant. But the words stuck in my throat.
She must’ve seen something in my face because she patted my arm and moved away, leaving me there, peeling more potatoes and thinking about rings and proposals and futures I desperately wanted but was terrified to jinx.
Eventually, the table was set, the food was ready, and we all gathered. Wagner invited Lucas to sit at the head, and once we all took our places, he quietly surveyed his family.
“Before we eat,” he said, “I want to say something.” His gaze met Diana’s, and she dabbed the corners of her eyes with her napkin.
“This has been a hard few months. Worrying about Felicity, about the baby. These last few weeks especially.” He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing.
“But sitting here now, seeing all of you, my beautiful granddaughter”—he gestured toward Beatrice in Felicity’s arms—“it really shows what’s truly important in life. ”
Diana’s hand covered his on the table.
“It isn’t a plot of land or a bunch of barrels of wine. It’s this. It’s family. It’s being here for each other.” He turned to Diana. “Your mom and I have been talking.”
Next to me, Saffron tensed.
“We’ve been so focused on the winery, on the legacy, on keeping things going the way they’ve always been. And maybe—” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s time to let go of that. To accept that things change. That family matters more than property.”
Under the table, I found Saffron’s hand and squeezed. Her fingers gripped mine so hard it hurt.
I wondered if she thought he was giving up, surrendering, in the same way it sounded to me. That he was reframing the foreclosure as a choice, as if letting go was somehow noble instead of heartbreaking.
“We can get through anything as long as we have each other. We can face whatever comes. Because we have each other. That’s what really matters.”
He raised his glass. “To family. To health. To what truly matters.”
“To family,” everyone echoed, raising their glasses too.
I drank but couldn’t taste the wine. Next to me, Saffron barely moved.
Conversation resumed around us—passing dishes, compliments to the chef, normal Thanksgiving chatter. But Saffron picked at the food on her plate.
Lucas, though, appeared lighter. Almost at peace. Maybe the time away, being here with his daughter and son-in-law, waiting for the baby to be born, had given him the time he needed to convince himself that letting the winery go was the right choice.
But what he didn’t know was how hard his younger daughter was fighting for him. For their family.
And if she told him now and the wine failed—what would that do to him? To them?
After dinner, after the dishes were done and everyone had retreated to various corners of the house to recover from too much food, I found Saffron outside on the back patio.
She sat on the steps with her arms wrapped around her knees, gazing out at the dark vineyard.
I sat next to her without speaking. The November night was cool, stars were visible above us, and faint sounds of conversation drifted from inside the house.
“He’s given up,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“He’s already accepted losing everything.”
“I think you’re right.”
Silence stretched between us.
“I should tell him about the wine.”
“Should you?” I asked.
She turned toward me. “I don’t know. I mean, he seems at peace. And if I give him hope and things don’t go the way I want them to, then what?”
I wanted to assure her that if her dream about the Christmas Blessing Wine didn’t turn out the way we both wanted it to, there were other options.
Lots of them. Some of which could be handled with a simple phone call.
But I didn’t. That would be giving up before we had the chance to succeed.
And Saffron needed that success. As much for herself as for her family.
Back in the bedroom hours later, we moved around each other, getting ready for bed.
The silence was weighted with everything I hadn’t said and wondered if I should have.
We brushed our teeth, standing next to each other, going through the motions without speaking.
In bed, we lay side by side, staring into each other’s eyes.
I cupped her cheek. “Saffron, I love—”
She kissed me, stopping me from finishing what I wanted to say, to tell her, more than anything else. I loved her. I was in love with her, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life showing her exactly how much.
I drew her closer, and she came willingly, pressing against me. We made love, slow and quiet, saying with our bodies what she wouldn’t let me say with words. Her hands in my hair. Mine tracing her spine. Both of us desperate and gentle and aching.
After, we lay tangled, her head on my chest and my hand in her hair.
It was like we were in a holding pattern. Until we knew that our plan worked, we couldn’t move forward with our lives. But we were here, holding each other, and for now, that had to be enough.
Morning arrived gray and subdued. We packed our things in silence.
Downstairs, the family gathered to say goodbye.
Lucas took me aside. “Thanks for coming. It meant a lot to Saffron. To all of us.”
“Thanks for having me, sir.”
Diana hugged us both. “Drive safe.”
Felicity appeared with Beatrice. “See you soon. And, Saff?” She waited until her sister gazed at her. “Tell him.”
“I will,” she said almost too quietly for me to hear.
We climbed into my truck and left. Four hours back to Paso Robles stretched ahead of us.
The first hour passed mostly in silence. Saffron looked through the window at vineyards rolling past, and I kept my eyes on the road.
“I do, you know.”
“Do what?” I asked.
“Feel the same way. About you.”
My gut clenched and my heart soared at the same time.
“But I’m scared,” she continued. “Terrified, actually. Of needing you this much. Of what happens if—”
“If what?”
“If the wine doesn’t work. If I fail anyway.” She turned toward me. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not the person holding everything together.”
“You’re the woman I care about more than anyone. That’s who you are.”
“Is it enough?”
“Absolutely, Saff. It’s everything.”
We stopped to get gas an hour later, and while I filled the tank, she went inside to get us both coffee. She returned and stood near my truck.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you say it.”
“You weren’t ready to hear it.”
“I want to be. I just—I need to figure who I am. You know?”
I kissed her forehead. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart.”
“Because you’re not going anywhere?”
I smiled. “Not unless you’re with me.”
I wished that was enough, but I could tell it wasn’t.
I rested my head against the seat, thinking about how many people gave me shit about taking long enough to realize Saffron and I were meant to be together.
I suppose I had, but what they didn’t realize was that it didn’t matter whether I was ready for us to commit to each other forever; it was Saffron who wasn’t there yet.