24. Mackenzie
Mackenzie
Jake Cavendish is a romantic.
It’s incredible, and yet, I don’t doubt his sincerity. He was fierce.
If I had loved her, I would have done anything for her.
I can still hear his voice and my knees quiver every time I remember it.
I would have moved mountains.
Imagine having Jake Cavendish move mountains for you. I barely can. I replay our conversation in my thoughts over and over again, reliving the thrill of his declaration.
It makes me realize exactly what I want.
I want that. I want a man who loves me so completely that he’d do anything for me.
I want a partnership that is a total commitment from both parties, the bedrock and foundation of a future.
I don’t want to compromise. I don’t want a match that looks good on paper.
I want a man who makes my knees go weak, who kisses me like he’ll never get enough, whose eyes light when he sees me.
I want a man who will do anything for me – because when I love a man, I’ll do anything for him.
I want a relationship that is highly improbable, and I don’t want to settle for anything less.
If I loved Darcy – or thought there was any chance of my loving him in future – it would be much easier to do what he wants. I could give up Rhodes Vineyards for love. But I won’t give it up for complacency or comfort or someone else’s future plans.
My instincts are shouting loud and clear: the man I want is Jake Cavendish. I want him to fall in love with me because I’m pretty sure that I’m falling hard for him. It would be awesome and demanding and fulfill every one of my romantic dreams – if I could convince Jake to take a chance on me.
The bottom line is that I want the impossible.
I’ve politely declined Darcy’s invitations and offers, but now I get more firm. I say no to all of it. I’m emphatic but polite.
He doesn’t listen. In fact, he might find it encouraging. He just gives me a couple of hours, then calls again.
Every time.
It is a relentless and infuriating campaign, one that is made worse by comparison. If I said no to Jake, he’d vanish from the face of my earth.
That leads me to daydreaming about Jake, and that means I’m sufficiently distracted to make a mistake on Friday afternoon.
I agree to have dinner with a potential buyer.
That’s not the mistake.
The mistake is that I agree to let him drive to Havelock for dinner.
I watch the buyer place his hand on top of mine, but slide mine away as if I didn’t notice. I did notice and I’m trying to figure out what to do.
How am I going to save this situation?
Is it even possible to save the situation – and the sale – without giving this guy what he obviously wants?
My excuse for moving my hand away was to reach for my wine, as if I needed a sip and was unaware of his move. I scan the restaurant while I let the wine touch my lips, thoughts spinning.
Truth be told, I’m fed up with men right now. My Uncle Victor was supposed to handle this meeting, but he double-booked himself tonight.
My Uncle Franz is getting more vocal about his disagreement with me over the planned harvest dates of the red. My grandfather is insisting we work it out between ourselves.
Darcy is pressuring me to book a trip to the Okanagan right this minute.
My argument that the harvest has begun and I need to do my job falls on deaf ears.
He’s told me more than once that the team here will have to get used to running the place without me.
(And no, he still hasn’t asked my opinion of his choices for our shared future.)
Worst of all, Jake is gone as if he never existed. I can’t find out that he’s even been in Empire and I don’t want to call him again. I miss him, which is irritating because I doubt he misses me.
Maybe he hasn’t forgotten me. That’s the best I can hope for and it’s not much.
We are at the Italian place in Havelock and it’s too busy for me to appeal to the staff for help.
What can they do? Why, oh why, did I let him drive me from the vineyard?
I always drive myself, but I was cornered by this client into saving one of us a trip.
My uncle agreed cheerfully, never considering the nuances, and I didn’t think about it.
I was thinking about Jake.
And now I’m caught. I look up to meet the client’s gaze – shrewd, bright, confident – and know this is how he wanted it.
Bastard.
The trick will be getting home without this guy demanding what he wants first.
I talk about the future of Rhodes Vineyards as I try to find an exit strategy.
As vineyards go, we’re not the smallest. We’re not Gallo either.
Once upon a time, we sold most of our production direct to the consumer.
We have tastings and tours every weekend all summer long and into the fall, and that used to clear out the inventory.
I like selling directly to the buyer and there are times when I get better results than my uncle and his team.
This buyer asked for me.
Of course, he did.
When we had sufficient production to go into distribution, we sold to the LCBO.
For most of forever, the provincial government has been the only retail means of selling alcohol to the public.
The LCBO (the Liquor Control Board of Ontario) operates a chain of stores and a massive warehousing and distribution operation.
Distribute to them and you’ve got the province of ten million consumers covered.
Most of the other provinces have their sister marketing boards for alcohol. Again, easy peasy.
Eventually, of course, the provinces began to loosen their hold on distribution.
I think British Columbia was the first to allow alcohol to be sold in grocery stores and other businesses.
Right now, Ontario is opening up that option.
It’s new territory for us and explains the smooth older man sitting across from me, the one with a different alliance on his mind.
He buys for a small high-end grocery store chain and has come down here as a result of our winning awards. Only the best will do for his customers.
To be honest, I’m a lot less interested in his business than I was this afternoon. If we do this deal, it will be because he’s gotten what he wants, or thinks he will soon, which means more dinners like this in my future, and I’d rather just forget the whole thing.
The waitress brings our salads and he turns his charm upon her, giving me a moment to strategize. She is polite but cool, and I admire that.
I just need to get out of here and home safely.
Rescue comes from the most unlikely of corners. I hear the door to the restaurant open just as I’m taking my first bite – painfully aware that my companion is apparently fascinated by my mouth – when I see the hostess smile.
“You’re back. Welcome!” she says, stretching out her hand to the new arrival.
It must be a regular.
I glance over my shoulder to find Jake Cavendish just inside the door. He looks uncharacteristically casual, in taupe chinos and a button-down shirt, his hair tousled and his sunglasses in his shirt pocket. I remember his comment about sailing, but there’s nowhere to sail around Havelock.
“Oh!” I gasp without meaning to, then realize I can work with it.
If I’m going to throw myself at anyone’s mercy, Jake is indisputably the best choice.
I excuse myself and cross the restaurant with quick steps, feeling my client’s gaze bore into my back.
Jake looks up but before he can give me away, I seize his shoulders, kiss him and turn him so he’s not directly facing my table anymore. “I need a PDA and I need it now,” I whisper. “Consider it an act of mercy.”
His lips curve in that slow smile, the one that lights his eyes and starts a simmer in a very personal part of me. “You need a public display of affection?”
“Absolutely. And soon.”
“You’ve come to the right place.”
“Don’t I know it.”
His hand lands on the back of my waist and he spreads out his fingers, a possessive and sexy touch that no one can miss.
He slides his hand up my back a little and pulls me closer, as if he can’t resist, then his fingers curl tighter around my waist. He’s staring down at me as if he adores me, and even I’m tempted to believe.
“I’m not known for my merciful tendencies,” he murmurs as he bends to nuzzle the side of my neck.
I close my eyes when he kisses me beneath my earlobe, right on the spot that drives me crazy.
He’s playing it exactly right, as if we’re in a relationship, not too serious, not too casual – but hot.
As if we meet like this all the time, whenever we can.
I love it and I find myself wishing it was all real.
That makes me pull back to look at him, knowing my expression is skeptical. “I figured you’d be asking what was in it for you.”
“I’m good with the script so far.” Jake lifts his head and smiles down at me, as if we’re the only people in the world. I see now that he’s tired. He must have just driven down from the city. I reach up to smooth away a line in his brow.
“You know, for someone who’s never coming back to Empire, you turn up a lot.”
He laughs. “But we’re in Havelock. It doesn’t count.”
“If you say so.”
“Now, tell me.” There’s steel in his tone, which is completely at odds with his bemused expression, and my heart skips a beat.
I already feel safer.
I know I have an ally.
“Client dinner. He wants dessert.”
“Don’t we all.” Jake trails a fingertip across my cheek, pushing a tendril of hair behind my ear, his touch as light as a butterfly.
That doesn’t account for the earthquake it starts inside me.
He smiles, looking wicked and irresistible, and I see his gaze flick toward the table.
It’s a quick glance but his brows rise and his eyes twinkle.
“Your very own Mr. Knightley. How nice.”
I glare at him. “It’s not nice at all.”
“Got to be more than sixteen years difference, though.”
I try not to shudder. “Probably thirty.”
“How exactly do I come into this?”
“You’re the bear, Mr. Wickham,” I whisper. “I’m choosing the bear.”
“The bear? I’m the bear?” His teeth flash when I nod agreement. He leans close to whisper and I hope he doesn’t know I shiver. “Are you allowed to mix up your references like that?”
“I’m allowed to do what I need to do.”
“That makes me the devil you know, as well as the bear. As well as the unreliable Mr. Wickham. You are in a jam.”
“Either way.” I smile into his eyes. “Help. I don’t want to be trapped in his car with him.”
Jake sobers then, a glint of resolve settling into those baby blues. “He drove you here?”
“My mistake.”
“Big one,” he agrees. “You must have been distracted, thinking about Mr. Darcy.” He continues, all serious, before I can follow that thread. “All right then. Did you turn off your phone?”
“Of course.”
“That’s how we’ll play it then. More than a PDA.
We’re a couple. The plan was that I’d arrive tomorrow which is why you were available tonight.
I called you to let you know I’d be early, but your phone was off.
” Jake shakes his head at me, his expression so rueful that it could all be true.
“You’re always doing that.” I smile because I actually do.
“When you walk away, pull out your phone and check it, then laugh as if you’ve just found the message. ”
I nod agreement and kiss his chin. “Brilliant.”
“Then have your dinner. I’ll have mine. Join me after your business is done.
” He puts a warm fingertip beneath my chin, tipping my face up.
Our faces are very, very close and I love my sense that we’re a team, covering each other’s backs.
It’s just a moment, but it would be heaven to have someone to count on.
“When he’s gone, I’ll take you home. Okay? ”
“Perfect.” I touch my lips to his. “You’re a genius.”
“I know.”
“And modest, too.”
He nods. “It’s a bear thing.”
“Thank you.”
“Kind of a novelty, using my powers for good.” Jake’s grin is wicked and he winks at me, just as the hostess appears to seat him. We part and I follow the script, checking my phone and shaking my head at my own foolishness when I pretend to find his message.
The atmosphere is different when I take my seat again. My companion’s gaze is assessing and a lot cooler. “Friend of yours?”
“Oh, more than a friend,” I say smoothly and smile. “I wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow, but he was able to drive down early. It was a surprise.” I don’t have to pretend to be pleased. I know I’m a little flushed and I just go with it. A woman in love. Maybe I am. “How is the lamb?”