Chapter 18
The tires of my truck crunch on the gravel as I park in front of the tasting room building after spending the day de-budding vines. Now that it’s March and we’re in the middle of the time of year referred to as “bud burst”, my focus is doing everything to ensure flavorful grapes, including removing certain buds to further concentrate the flavor.
The sun still glimmers bright and warm in the sky, though it’s beginning its descent toward the west. A year ago, I’d still be in the fields or my lab, despite having already worked eight hours. These days, though, I’ve been stopping work earlier and earlier.
As much as I thought the idea of Haley’s contract was ridiculous, it’s actually been good for us. With established boundaries, she seems more relaxed around me.
In fact, over the past six weeks, we’ve been spending a lot more time together than I imagined when I proposed this arrangement. My once empty house now feels cozy and inviting, Maggie always greeting me at the door with an enthusiastic hug as she recounts her day at preschool, complete with details about who got into trouble and who she played with during recess.
It’s become the highlight of my day.
I hate the idea that there will come a time when I’ll walk into my house and she won’t be there. Neither of them will.
Jude claims that’s the real reason I still haven’t approached Grady about buying the vineyard from him. That I’m worried the answer will still be no and we’ll have done all of this for nothing.
That Haley and Maggie will no longer have a reason to stay.
Which is crazy.
I like having them around, but I want this vineyard more than anything. I don’t want Grady to become suspicious of my sudden nuptials.
That’s all.
Jude’s just bitter that Haley and I didn’t sleep together within the first week, like he predicted. He knows our history. He knows better than anyone exactly why that will never happen.
I’ve already ruined her life once. I won’t do it again.
“Hey, Beck,” Gretchen calls out from behind the bar when I walk into the cavernous tasting room.
The floors are repurposed wood, crafted from old wine barrels, while the walls are exposed stone, except for the far wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking acres upon acres of budding vines.
I’m immediately reminded of marrying Haley in that exact spot. Of her appearing at the end of the aisle and my heart stopping as I took in how beautiful she was. In that split-second, a part of me wished her breathtaking smile wasn’t just for show — an act to convince my friends and family that we’re madly in love. Instead, I wished it was because she couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with me.
“Hey, Gretch.” I move toward the long, polished bar where several tasting stations are set up.
It’s a Thursday afternoon, so it’s not too busy, but there are still a few people here.
“How’s the response to the Syrah blend been?”
Last week, we were able to bottle a new varietal I’ve been working on over the past several years. I’ve always loved a good Syrah, and the climate a few years ago was perfect for cultivating those grapes.
“It’s a hit. I might be taking bigger tastes than necessary when opening a fresh bottle.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Is Grady upstairs?”
“Sure is.”
“Great. Thanks.”
I head down the long hallway and make my way up to the second floor landing, slowing my steps when I hear raised voices through the closed door of Grady’s office.
“You can’t do this,” a stern voice I don’t recognize seethes. “We had a deal.”
“We were working on a deal,” Grady corrects, his tone calm despite the other man’s obvious frustration. “Neither one of us has yet to sign anything. You’ve been in this business long enough to know nothing’s definite until the ink is dry.”
“Do you want more money? I’ll raise my offer to fifteen million.”
I have to suppress my cough. I doubt he’ll be able to turn down that much money. He deserves it after the years he’s spent turning this land into a profitable vineyard.
And after everything he’s done for me.
“It’s not about the money,” Grady responds. “You could offer me twice that much. Hell, ten times, and it still won’t be enough to change my mind.”
“You saw the plans. We’ll maintain the spirit of the vineyard, will still cultivate the grapes and make wine. We’ll just be building a hotel on the property, as well, which will allow more people to come and appreciate everything you’ve built here.”
“While I like the concept, my answer is still no. And final.”
It’s silent for several tense seconds. I may not be able to see them, but I can picture Grady’s calm demeanor, a contrast to the anger radiating from the other gentleman.
“This isn’t over,” the man says, his voice low and threatening. “You can be damn sure you’ll be hearing from our lawyers.”
“I look forward to it,” Grady replies flippantly.
The door flies open and a man dressed in a designer suit complete with monogrammed cufflinks storms out. It’s probably a good thing Grady declined his offer. A real winemaker wouldn’t be caught dead in a suit like that. Hell, I didn’t even own a suit until a few days before I married Haley.
I meet the man’s irate gaze, a sneer plastered on his face. Then he storms past me and down the stairs. My eyes follow him until he disappears from view. Then I approach Grady’s office and peek my head inside.
“Ah, Beckham.” He slowly stands and skirts around his desk to greet me, keeping his hand on the surface for support. “You’re here early.”
“I figured I’d get home so I can spend some time with Haley and Maggie before bedtime.”
“Good for you.” He gives me a brief hug and pats my back. “Married life looks good on you. I didn’t think there’d ever come a time you’d go home while the sun was still shining.”
“I like being around them.”
“I have to admit,” Grady continues, making his way back to his chair. “I was doubtful at first.”
“You were?” I sit opposite him, attempting to remain cool and genuinely curious.
“I thought maybe you only married her because of what I said.”
I feign surprise, despite my pulse steadily increasing over the prospect that he saw through our ruse, regardless of our best efforts.
Does this mean it’s all been for nothing? Is he about to tell me he has no plans to sell to me, like he did the man who just left?
“But I’ve been watching you these past several weeks.” A gentle smile tugs on his mouth, crinkling the lines around his eyes. “There’s been a change in you, Beckham. It’s obvious you love her and that little girl. Which is why I’m happy to tell you that I’ve decided to accept your offer.”
My eyes widen, his statement nearly stealing my breath. “You… You have?”
“Yes. As long as it’s still on the table.”
“It is. Definitely. You know how much I love this place.”
“I certainly do.”
“But are you sure, Grady? I overheard your conversation with that stiff suit.” I drop my voice. “I heard what he was offering. I can’t come remotely close to that.”
He waves me off. “I’m seventy-six years old. What would I possibly do with all that money this late in the game? I’d much rather know this land is taken care of.”
“You know it will be,” I assure him.
“Then as long as everything checks out, the vineyard will be yours at the end of the harvest.”
I blink repeatedly, his statement catching me off guard. “The harvest?”
“Call me a sentimental fool. This upcoming harvest will be my thirtieth on this land. I’d like to go out on an even number.”
“Of course. Sorry. I guess I’m just excited.”
“That’s understandable.” Grady pulls himself up to stand and I do the same, moving toward him as he wraps me in a hug. “I’m proud of you, son.” He gives my back a pat before pulling away and meeting my eyes. “Your dad would be proud of the man — the husband — you’ve become. You didn’t let your past mistakes dictate the rest of your life. Instead, you made something of yourself.”
“All thanks to you.” I swallow the ball of guilt building in my stomach.
This is what I wanted, why I married Haley. But now that the wheels are in motion, I can’t help but feel like shit for deceiving the man who’s been like a second father to me.
The man who took me under his wing and taught me all his winemaking secrets when no one else would hire me.
Worse, I’m not sure how Haley’s going to respond to the changed timeline. I told her we’d probably only need to stay married for nine months. Three months to give me enough time to convince Grady to sell and get all the paperwork in order, then six months after the sale goes through so he won’t become suspicious.
Harvest goes from late August through October. I’ll be asking her to stay married until next April.
While I can’t ignore the relief that fills me at the prospect of being able to come home to them every day through April, I worry how Haley will react.
Will she want to stay married that long?
Or will she want to cut bait now?