Sneak Peek #3
Undeterred by the talk of violence, my grandma moves toward me until we’re inches apart. She barely reaches my chin, her hair teased into a silver pouf, and she wears a rose-hued coat and matching crepe dress like the late queen is her spectral stylist.
Her tiny stature is in direct contrast to her fierce spirit. Eleanor Sullivan is the family matriarch, and still actively manages most of the family’s holdings in town and the land we own throughout the valley.
The Sullivans, along with the Foxes, founded Foxridge in the mid-1800s. It still grates on the nerves of various relatives, Grammy included, that the town was officially named Foxridge instead of the planned Sullivanville. But man, that would have been a mouthful.
The Foxes claim that founders Jonathan Sullivan and Charles Fox flipped a coin for naming rights. According to Sullivan family lore, Charles got Jonathan drunk, then sneaked out to file the town’s name in the early-morning hours while his friend slept it off.
That spark lit the fuse on the rivalry between the two families. The friction has ebbed and flowed over the decades until settling into a civil, if awkward, truce.
The animosity heated up again recently. The Sullivans have been the more successful family for years, owning a stake in a bunch of local businesses, along with much of the land in the surrounding area.
Ethan and Blake’s father took over the struggling family farm when the boys were still in diapers.
Dave Fox started growing grapes in the volcanic soil and within a decade turned the vineyard into one of the best pinot producers in the Willamette Valley.
The Foxes began to flex their muscle in ways my family didn’t appreciate. So my grandmother wanted an alliance and encouraged (possibly pushed) me to see Blake as more than a friend when we both returned to town after college.
We dated for three years, with Blake at my side when I won my first mayoral election, becoming the youngest person to hold that office in the town’s history.
According to Grammy, our families’ combined support propelled me, relatively inexperienced in politics, to victory. But Blake made me feel like I’d won on my own merit. He was the only person in either of our families who believed in me.
He proposed last Christmas. Of course, I said yes. So what if our relationship was more partnership than high-octane romance? I thought Blake and I were on the same page about the match. What a fool I’ve been.
“You embarrassed me today,” my grandmother says, pale blue eyes flaring with temper, “and brought shame to the Sullivan name.”
I purposely put weight on my right foot, focusing on the physical pain instead of the emotional sting of her words.
“Mom.” My father lets out an exasperated sigh. “Let her explain.”
“This better be good, Emma.”
“I changed my mind.” I keep my gaze trained on the corsage pinned just below the collar of my grandmother’s dress. “Blake and I realized we’re better as friends.” I can’t look her in the eye as the half-truths spill from my mouth.
Not complete lies. I went into the wedding with a bone-deep understanding that my marriage to Blake had more to do with my family than hot and heavy passion. But I would have gone through with it if I hadn’t walked in on him balls deep in his best man’s plus one.
“What did he do?” Grammy demands, sounding a lot like Ethan. Good thing I’m not a gambler because I clearly have no poker face.
“Nothing.” I lie outright this time. I decided at the church that I’d rather be the bad guy than a pathetic and clueless idiot.
Blake agreed. He would have agreed to just about anything at that point.
“I’m sorry, Grammy. I’ll return the gifts and write apology notes to each of the guests.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. ”
She holds up a weathered hand, the manicured tips of her fingers trembling. “This cannot be undone, Emma.” She turns to my father. “Take me home, Tom.”
He glances between his mother and me. “Maybe Emma doesn’t want to be alone right—”
“She made her choice,” she says, hard and final. She waves a hand at both Riley and Ben. “Let’s go.”
Riley stands and places a hand on our dad’s sleeve. “I can stay with—”
“We’re all going,” Grammy insists, walking toward the door without a backward glance.
“It’s fine,” I say when Riley’s brows draw together. “I’ll text you later.”
My father takes a step closer, but I shake my head. “It’s okay, Dad. Really.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but I force a smile and motion for him to follow Grammy. Right now I need time alone.
“I love you,” my dad says, then walks out behind Grammy and Riley. Ben turns back to me with his hand on the doorknob.
“I wouldn’t have let Mrs. Fox shank you,” he says with complete sincerity.
I manage a wobbly smile. “Thanks, buddy.”
He nods and shuts the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicks, my knees buckle. I collapse to the hardwood floor in a puddle of white satin and lace, wondering how the hell I’m going to fix the dumpster fire that’s my current reality.
All 3 books in The Vineyard Next Door series will hit shelves on September 15th so you can binge read Emma & Ethan’s entire love story.