Chapter 12 #2
"Sunny." The male voice on the other end is smooth and carries the kind of fake warmth that immediately sets me on edge. "I've been trying to reach you, darling. You blocked my number."
Sunny goes rigid. Her jaw locks, and that sweet relaxed softness that suffused her body ten seconds ago vanishes as if someone flipped a switch.
"Derek." She says the name like she's spitting out something rotten. "I blocked your number because I don't want to talk to you. Not answering your calls seemed a strong enough hint."
"I'm rather persistent. You should remember that." The smugness in his voice makes my fist clench. "Listen, I'm calling because I have news, and I wanted you to hear it from me before it hits the trades."
"I don't care to hear any news about you, Derek."
"You'll want to hear this." He barrels past her refusal without a pause, conversational steamrolling that tells me this man has spent years talking over people who've told him no. "I'm buying Beaumont Crest."
The silence that follows is stark. Sunny's jaw sags and her hand tightens around the phone. I sit up straighter, every protective instinct I have snapping to attention.
"You're buying Beaumont Crest," she repeats, her voice flat.
"We close the deal in a couple weeks. I know how special that place is to you, Sunny." His voice drops into a register that's probably supposed to sound intimate but comes across as calculated. "In fact, I thought of you the whole time I was negotiating the deal."
Her jaw works, and her free hand grips the blanket at her hip. When she finally speaks, her voice is controlled, every syllable measured. "Good for you, Derek. I hope you know what you're getting into, because you're going to need all the luck in the world."
"Sunny, come on. Don't be like that. I was hoping we could talk about it, maybe grab dinner. I want to tell you about my plans for the—"
"Goodbye, Derek."
She ends the call with a tap that's forceful enough to make the screen protest. Her thumb moves across the screen in quick, practiced motions, blocking the new number, and then she sets the phone face-down on the coffee table.
The room is very quiet in the aftermath.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"I'm fine." The answer is automatic, a reflex, and the tightness in her voice tells me it isn't true. She's still pressed against me, but the loose, easy weight of her body has been replaced by something coiled and ready to snap.
"Sunny, what's going on? What is Beaumont Crest?"
She exhales through her nose, long and controlled.
"It’s the winery where I interned in my final year at UC Davis.
It's one of the most respected boutique wine operations in Sonoma County, and the head winemaker, Evan Reynolds, was my mentor.
" Her voice catches on the name, and she clears her throat before continuing.
"Evan taught me everything I couldn't learn from a textbook.
He's the reason I understand blending the way I do, why I trust my instincts, and why Isabelle took a chance on a twenty-four-year-old with no real professional track record.
I owe my entire career to that man and that winery. "
I wait, letting her tell the story at her own pace.
"Derek's not buying Beaumont Crest because he cares about wine or because he sees a good investment.
" Her tone hardens, and her words have an edge that could draw blood.
"He's doing it because he's a self-serving pig and knowing what it means to me is probably icing on the cake to him.
He knows Evan is the closest thing to a father figure I've ever had.
" She runs a hand down her face. "Everything Derek touches turns to garbage, Charlie.
He'll run that winery into the ground and strip the bones like every other place he's bought, and Evan will be collateral damage. "
The anger in her voice cracks at the end, and the vulnerability of it makes my jaw clench. I pull her close and press my lips to her temple, letting the contact say what words can't fix.
"He called to get a reaction out of you," I comment. "The best thing you can do is not give him one."
"I know." She tucks her face against my neck, and her breath is warm against my skin. "Derek loves to gloat. It makes him feel powerful. But Evan doesn't deserve to be a pawn in Derek's petty games."
I hold her and let the quiet settle over us, my hand moving up and down her arm in measured strokes. After a few minutes, the tension in her body loosens, and her breathing evens out against my collarbone.
"Thank you," she murmurs against my skin.
"For what?"
"For not telling me how to feel about it. For just being here."
I draw her closer, settling my chin against the crown of her head as my gaze wanders the living room. Books are stacked on the side table, framed photos lining the wall—details I haven't stepped close enough to take in yet. It's only a small glimpse into her world, and already I crave more.
But beneath the peaceful stillness, a thread of unease winds through me that I can't quite shake. Derek is buying a winery that means something to Sunny, and he called to make sure she knew it.
Sunny's breathing deepens, her body heavy and trusting against mine. I ease out from under her and scoop her up, blanket and all, and she murmurs something against my neck as I carry her down the hallway to the bedroom. She doesn't wake when I settle her onto the mattress.
She curls into me as I slide in beside her. My arm wraps around her waist, and I lie there in the dark, turning the situation over in my mind.
What Sunny and I have is real, and it's worth protecting. But Derek found a way around her block, and he's circling something that matters to Sunny more than she let on tonight. A man like that doesn't make one call and walk away.
I hold Sunny closer and press my lips to her hair, breathing in her sweet scent and warmth and everything I'm not willing to let anyone take from me.
Whatever Derek has planned, he'll have to come through me first.