Chapter Ten – Cassia
It had been a long, long day. Cassia leaned back against the barn door and stared out at the view before her.
Despite the ache in her back, and her arms, and her legs…she had used muscles she never knew she had as she worked alongside Kris, clearing out the barn…she felt invigorated. The progress they had made today was visible and satisfying. So very satisfying.
So yes, it had been a long day, but it had been a good one. A very good one.
And it wasn’t just the barn where they had made progress. Leanne had also dug out some of the Thornberg family recipe books and cooked up some sample recipes for lunch.
The spread had been incredible—a savory mushroom ragout with fresh pasta that Cassia suspected had been made that morning, a rustic bread with a perfect crust that crackled when torn, and a salad bursting with vegetables freshly picked from the small kitchen garden Leanne hoped to expand.
As they ate, the recipe books had been passed around, and Cassia had found new inspiration in the handwritten notes scrawled in the margins. Generations of Thornbergs had added their personal touches—a bit more rosemary here, a touch less sugar there. The books themselves were a living history of the family, stained with splashes of sauce and marked with thumbprints of flour from decades past.
She’d been left with a head full of so many ideas. It was a little overwhelming.
But then they’d headed back to the barn and the sight of Kris working had cleared her head of all thoughts, except one. How ridiculously attractive he was.
The pictures of him in the magazine article she’d read did not do him justice, and it was hard to imagine how a man like him had remained single.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Kris’s deep voice startled her from her reverie. He approached with two glasses in one hand and a bottle in the other.
“Just admiring the view,” she said as he drew closer. And she was not just talking about the vineyard. “It’s beautiful here.”
“It is,” he replied, leaning against the barn beside her, their shoulders nearly touching. And the way his gaze caressed her left her unsure whether he was talking about just the view. But then he turned and gazed out at the vines and the mountains beyond. “Some days I take it for granted, and then there are moments like this...”
“I don’t think I will ever take it for granted,” she murmured.
“Neither will I. Not anymore.” He turned and looked at her and something unspoken passed between them as their eyes locked. Then he cracked a smile and held up a bottle of chilled wine, the condensation beading on its emerald surface. “A little reward for all our hard work today. It’s one of our whites from two seasons ago. It’s crisp, with notes of pear and honeysuckle.”
“You had me at ‘reward,’” Cassia laughed, accepting the glass he poured for her.
The wine was indeed crisp and refreshing, cooling her throat as she swallowed. Perfect after the physical labor of the day. She closed her eyes briefly, savoring the complex flavors that unfolded on her palate. When she opened them again, Kris was watching her with an intensity that made her stomach clench with longing.
“What do you think?” he murmured.
“It’s exquisite,” she answered honestly. “Elegant but approachable. The kind of wine that makes you want to linger.”
Something flickered in his eyes at her words. “That’s exactly what we aim for.” He took a sip from his own glass, his gaze never leaving hers. And how she wanted to drown in those deep brown eyes.
“You have an incredible talent,” she said as she took another sip and forced herself to break eye contact.
“And so do you. My mom is inspired.” Kris chuckled as he drank. “She’s rustling up another old family recipe as we speak. And asked me to invite you to stay.”
A surge of delight threatened to overwhelm Cassia. Dinner with the Thornbergs. She was beginning to feel as if she were one of them.
For a second, she actually pictured all of them around a large wooden table, passing bowls of home-cooked food and sharing laughter. Her heart yearned for it, ached, even. But it also triggered her guard: You are not part of this family. You are an employee. Keep it professional.
She gave a small smile. “That’s really sweet. But I—I should probably get back.” She gestured vaguely, as though more tasks awaited her at the guest house. “I have a lot of notes to organize, maybe refine the menu suggestions, and send out some inquiries to local farmers. I want to stay ahead of the curve.”
Kris’s face fell, and Cassia’s stomach twisted with guilt. But he simply nodded, a flicker of disappointment passing across his eyes. “Of course, you’ve probably had enough of us for one day.”
Never, said the voice in her head.
“No.” Cassia swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’ve all been so kind and welcoming. I promise I’ll be back tomorrow. Early, even. We still have more wines to sample, more specifics to iron out, right?”
“We do,” Kris replied, with a smile that robbed her of breath. There was a sadness to it as if he truly wanted her to stay.
And goodness knows, she truly wanted to say yes. But she couldn’t. Not tonight. She needed to step back and needed some space to breathe and think clearly. Being around Kris muddled her thoughts, and made her forget all the reasons why getting emotionally entangled with her employer was a terrible idea.
“Rain check?” she offered.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, clinking his glass against hers. “The Thornbergs always collect on their debts.”
The warmth in his voice made her cheeks flush, and she took another sip of wine to hide her reaction. She didn’t need him to see the war waging inside her. Or to know if he asked her again, her resolve would crumble.
“I should get going,” Cassia finally said, finishing her wine and handing him the empty glass. “Thank you for the wine.”
“A perk of the job,” he replied as his fingers brushed hers and a jolt of recognition coursed through her.
Had he done that on purpose? As her eyes flew to his, she saw the same awareness reflected in his eyes. She knew for sure he felt it, too, and their connection wasn’t just in her head.
But what did it mean?
Confused, she stepped back, putting space between them. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears.
“Sure,” he said as he stepped away from her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“You don’t have to,” she told him.
“I know,” he said. “But I’d like to.”
Cassia nodded and fell into step with him as they made their way back through the vineyard, retracing their steps to her car. Was it only this morning that she had parked her car here, and seen Kris silhouetted against the rising sun?
It was as if a lifetime had passed. As if she were not the same person who had arrived here mere hours ago.
They arrived at her car, and Kris turned to face her, hands sliding into his pockets. The distance between them felt both physically small and emotionally vast. Cassia’s pulse thudded, wishing she could erase the carefully laid lines she’d drawn. But if she let him see how much she longed to stay, how soon would it be before he saw her weaknesses, too?
And use it against her?
Would he? Dante certainly would. He was skilled at getting what he wanted, no matter what the cost to those around him.
No. Cassia forcefully pushed the thought away. Nothing about Kris suggested he would be anything like her ex. She was letting old wounds dictate her present.
“Thank you for today,” she said, fumbling with her car keys. “I think we made real progress with the barn.”
“We did.” Kris’s voice was warm, but there was something guarded in his expression now. “Our restaurant is starting to take shape. At least on paper.”
“Your restaurant,” she corrected. Why did her heart beat faster when he said our, as if they were something more to one another?
Because that was what she wanted. Deep down, she knew it. Yet she also knew she had to deny herself.
His brow furrowed. “Our restaurant. This is a collaboration, Cassia.”
The sincerity in his voice made her chest ache. As if what was his was hers.
She nodded, unable to trust her voice for a moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she finally managed, opening her car door.
“Tomorrow,” he said, as if he could not wait a minute for the sun to set and rise again.
Her hand trembled as she inserted the key in the ignition, but somehow, she started the engine and drove away from the Thornberg Vineyard. And Kris.
Kris, who made her feel like she could do anything. Kris, who made her feel desired. Kris, who…
She cut off the thought and focused on the road ahead as she traveled through the mountains.
When she arrived at Bear’s Rest Guest House, Cassia parked her car under the tall pines and got out, feeling suddenly deflated. She walked to the guesthouse, over the stones, and entered. The same cheerful warmth that had greeted her on her first night was there, but this time it felt hollow somehow.
As if something was missing…
Knock-knock. The soft rap at the door startled her out of her thoughts. She paused, half-expecting Mel to be on the other side of the door. Maybe she’d brought dinner or wanted a quick chat. But something instinctive told Cassia her visitor was not Mel.
She opened the door, and her breath caught in her throat. Kris stood on the doorstep, framed against the twilight sky. For a second, all the bottled-up tension inside her threatened to spill over. Why was he here?
How was he here? Had he jumped in his truck and followed her the moment she’d left the vineyard? But she hadn’t heard a truck pull up outside.
“Kris,” she managed, voice barely above a whisper. “I…” She didn’t know what to say. But she could not deny she was happy he was here.
He cleared his throat, as if unsure of his welcome. “Sorry to show up unannounced,” he said with an awkward smile, “but I…I needed to see you. Can I come in?”
She hesitated, as she forced herself to act naturally. He could simply be here on business. Yes, that must be it. He’d suddenly thought of something about the restaurant. Something that could not wait until morning. Something he could not have communicated to her over the phone.
“Yes, of course.” She stepped back, giving him room to enter.
He stepped into the small living area, shutting the door gently behind him. “Thanks.”
Cassia clasped her hands together, trying not to fidget. “Is everything okay?”
Kris’s gaze roamed the room, then landed firmly on her. “We…we need to talk.”
Cassia’s pulse raced at his final words. We need to talk. That phrase was so loaded. Is it good or bad?
She swallowed, mustering a steady tone. “Now?” Of course now, or else why would he be here?
He nodded, stepping closer. “Yes. Please. There’s something I need to tell you. Or show you...”
Show her? Cassia’s brows tugged together. What could he possibly need to show her at this time of night?
But whatever it was, she wanted to know.
“Okay,” she said, with a feeling that if she followed him out of the door, her life would change forever.