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Jenna didn't know what to do with that information. She hugged Serenity back, hoping the contact was enough and that words weren't required.

Tom joined them, smiling broadly. When they both stepped back, Jenna saw a tall, thin redheaded man standing next to a petite blonde with a very big belly.

Serenity wrapped her arm around Jenna's waist and propelled her toward the stairs.

“This is Wolf and his wife Jasmine.”

Jenna climbed the stairs. “Nice to meet you,” she said, facing another stranger who was her brother.

Wolf stared at her. He looked much more like Serenity than Tom, but he had his father's quiet strength. His gaze appraised her with such solemnity that she started to feel guilty. Not just about the burger but on general principal. She had a momentary flash of sympathy for his yet-to-be-born child.

She braced herself for some accusation only to watch as Wolf's eyes filled with tears. He lunged at her, wrapping both his arms around her.

“I've missed you so much,” he breathed.

Jenna stood stiffly, her arms trapped at her sides. She appreciated the sentiment, but how could he miss someone he'd never met?

“I knew it would be like this,” Serenity said, then joined the embrace.

“Group hug,” Dragon called.

Jenna found herself in the middle of a family moment. She could feel the love flowing around her and did her best to let it inside of her. But all she felt was a little weird and uncomfortable.

When everyone had stepped back, Wolf wrapped his arm around his wife.

“This is Jasmine.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jenna said, half holding out her hand, half pulling it back at the same time.

“Oh, Jenna.”

The very pregnant woman lunged at her, gripping her in a surprisingly strong embrace.

“I'm so happy we're finally really sisters,” Jasmine whispered.

“Ah, me, too.”

“All right, break it up,” Dragon said. “It's too much like girl-on-girl porn. Seeing as you're both relatives, that's just gross.”

Jenna stepped back. “You're all making me feel so welcome. Thank you.”

“It's what we've always wanted,” Serenity told her, then linked arms with her. “Please. Come inside.”

Jenna let herself be led into the house.

The foyer was open to the second floor, with a catwalk stretching between each side of the house. She could see all the way through to the back of the living room where floor to ceiling windows seemed to draw the outdoors in.

The furniture was more rustic than contemporary—big pieces framed in wood with brightly colored fabrics. To
the left was a dining room with beautiful arched windows accented with stained glass.

“Dragon, you take Jenna's bag up to her room,” Serenity said. “We're going to go into the kitchen and have a little girl time.”

Jenna would rather have gone with her bag and freshened up, but she followed Serenity to the other end of the house.

They passed the formal dining room with a table big enough to seat twenty, then went into a huge kitchen. There was an eight-burner stove, triple ovens, two warming drawers, more cabinet space than in a showroom and a big butcher block table that easily seated ten.

“The cabinets are from an old hotel,” Serenity said, touching the one closest to her. “We had them refinished. The countertop is a mixture of materials.”

Jenna turned around and saw granite on the island, a few sections of wood, some stainless and what looked like poured concrete. What should have been a mess looked comfortable and perfectly at home in the huge space.

Windows looked out onto a massive garden. She could see a couple of goats in the distance, along with something that looked like a llama or an alpaca.

Serenity followed her gaze. “We use the goats for their milk and the alpaca fibers for knitting. In the barn, I make cheese.” She smiled. “To sell. We don't really eat it. Well, maybe every now and then.”

“I'm shocked.”

Serenity laughed. “Everyone gets to be bad occasionally. Come on.”

They went out the back door to where a couple of golf carts were plugged into charging stations. Jenna slipped into the passenger side of the one Serenity pointed to. Serenity unplugged it, then got behind the wheel.

“I thought we'd take a quick tour of the place before we start dinner,” Serenity said as they took off down a dirt path toward the vineyards.

“Tom and I bought this place when we were still in our twenties. We had a clear vision for what we wanted. Land was still relatively cheap, so we added on when we could.” She smiled as they bounced along. “However, making wine is an art form we've never truly mastered. We bottle about eight or nine hundred cases a year, but most of the grapes are bought by several of the big wineries in the area. It makes what we do more profitable.”

She drove around the merlot grapes, then turned left to head past the old house that had been converted to the tasting room.

“We'll go there tomorrow,” Serenity said. “They do a very nice lunch at the tasting room. And some of the new releases are impressive. Wolf seems to have more ability when it comes to making wine than either Tom or I do.” She sighed. “I wish Dragon had been interested in being a part of this.”

Jenna thought about all her brother had told her. “I think his course was set a while ago.”

“You're probably right. He was his own person, even before he was born. I could tell.”

Jenna pressed her lips together to keep from asking how. She'd grown used to Serenity's unusual ways and could even appreciate some of them. Instead she focused on the clear blue sky, the warm breeze and the beauty of the landscape around them.

“We're working on new labels for the winery,” Serenity told her as they parked in the shade and stared out at the rolling hills covered in grapevines. “We're going to be looking at designs while you're here. I'd love your input.”

“It's not for me to say,” Jenna protested automatically.

“You're family.”

She smiled rather than answer that. Technically, she was family. A biological member—full sibling to Wolf and Dragon. But DNA aside, she didn't exactly feel that she belonged.

“Are you all right?” her birth mother asked.

“Just a little tired from the travel.”

“I'll take you back so you can rest before dinner.”

 

Jenna's room was as beautiful as the rest of the house. Big, with high ceilings and east-facing windows with more views of vineyards. The only strange touch was the butterfly motif. There were butterflies on the bedspread and several carved butterflies on the dresser.

After showering in the attached private bath, she changed her clothes and made a brief call to Violet, who assured her all was well at the store. She'd barely hung up when someone knocked on her door.

She opened it to find Dragon lounging against the door frame.

“Are you my unofficial guide?” she asked, her voice teasing.

He grinned. “I'm the closest this family has to normal, so yes. I'm here to introduce you to all the idiosyncrasies you can imagine and some you can't. Tonight, we're having Mexican. Fajitas.”

“I love fajitas.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

He raised his eyebrows.

She ran through the list of traditional ingredients. “Oh.”

He guided her to the stairs. “Exactly. Tonight, the role of meat will be played by portabella mushrooms. The cheese is
sadly absent. However, there are fresh ingredients, guacamole that will make you find religion, and my very sweet, one hundred percent natural sister-in-law makes a killer margarita. I suggest we get drunk and count the hours until we can eat chicken again.”

She laughed. “Deal.”

“Good. Because I've already planned our route back to the airport, and there's this great little place that makes Southern fried chicken and biscuits you're not going to believe.” They walked into the kitchen to find everyone was already there.

“Feeling better?” Serenity asked.

“Yes, I am. Thanks.”

“Good. We saved you some peppers to chop.” Serenity turned to Jasmine and Wolf. “Your sister is a master with a knife.”

“A good reason not to piss her off,” Dragon said, grabbing at a tortilla and getting his hand slapped by his mother.

Jenna washed her hands and went to the cutting board where several red, green and yellow peppers were waiting, along with serrano chilies. Tom stood over a big pot of beans, while Serenity doctored rice.

As Dragon had promised, Jasmine took control of a professional-size blender and began making margaritas while Wolf made guacamole and Dragon set the table.

Fifties music played from hidden speakers. The sun sank lower in the sky, sending streamers of light through the windows.

As everyone worked, they talked about their day, the winery, what was happening locally. Wolf brought them up to-date on what had been going on in the vineyards. Jenna didn't understand all the technical terms about growing and
thinning and production, but she was able to follow the main concepts.

Jasmine passed out large glasses rimmed with salt and filled with slushy light green mix. She picked up a glass of lime juice over sparkling water and held it up with everyone else.

“To Jenna,” Tom said, smiling at her. “Daughter and sister. Missing from our lives until now. Welcome home.”

Echoes of “welcome home” filled the kitchen.

Jenna smiled and accepted the toast, then took a drink. Work resumed on the dinner. She showed Jasmine how to safely cut chilies without getting the juice on her hands and tasted Tom's famous beans. Wolf caught her in an impromptu hug, and Serenity and Dragon danced to “Rock Around the Clock.”

As the sun slowly set, someone turned on the lights. Jenna leaned against the counter and watched, not exactly sure where she fit in, but knowing being here now was starting to feel more right.

“I
love the responsibility,” Violet said. “Running the store. It's great.”

“You're doing good work,” Cliff told her, the words right, but his expression more tense than happy.

They were sitting at her small dining room table, having dinner together in her apartment. Since Jenna left, Violet hadn't had as much free time, but as always, Cliff had been understanding. Or so she'd thought. He'd been acting strange tonight.

“I wasn't even looking to change jobs, but when I saw Jenna's ad, something inside of me said I needed to go there and talk to her. Do you ever get that? A feeling in your gut?”

Cliff stared at her without answering.

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you still with me?”

He shrugged. “I was thinking about something else. So is all of Jenna's family with her in Napa?”

“Her whole birth family.”

“Even Dragon?”

Violet couldn't remember if she'd mentioned Jenna's brother. “Yes. He's there. Why?”

“He sent you a text message.”

Her first instinct was to get pissed that Cliff had looked at her phone. Then she reminded herself that they were in a relationship and that she'd been the one to leave her phone out on the counter. Mostly so she could grab it in case Jenna called to ask about the store.

“He wanted to know how you were doing,” Cliff continued, something flashing in his eyes. “So you're seeing him?”

“I'm not. I've met him and he's nice enough, but he lives in San Francisco.”

The second she said it, she knew it was wrong. “Not that I would be interested in him if he was here.”

Cliff stared at her for a long time, then returned his attention to his dinner.

Silence filled the room.

She felt guilty, even though she hadn't done anything wrong, and a little annoyed.

She stood and walked around to his chair. After taking his hand in hers, she pulled him to his feet.

“I'm not seeing Dragon,” she said. “He's my boss's brother.”

“He texted you.”

He was jealous and insecure. If the situation were reversed, she would probably feel the same way.

“He can text all he wants,” she told him. “I'm unavailable.”

Cliff studied her for several seconds, then he lowered his mouth to hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to his kisses.

They were making progress, she thought as she parted her lips. Every time they were together, she felt a little bit more. It was as if her body was awakening, inch by inch. Last time they'd made love, she'd actually become aroused and had been eager for him to be inside of her.

Sometimes she thought about telling Cliff the truth. That sex was more difficult for her because of her past. That she held back and it took a lot for her to trust enough to let go. She wanted to be honest—to have all the barriers between them gone—but she wasn't ready. Probably because she knew her past would be a game-changer. Once he knew the truth, he would be gone.

She'd tried to tell herself that a man who wouldn't accept all of her wasn't worth having. But then she thought about how nice he was, how he was so different from anyone she'd ever gone out with, and she put it off for a while longer. But soon, she thought.

He kissed his way down her neck. She wore a T-shirt over jeans. Her feet were bare. When he drew the T-shirt over her head and lightly touched her breasts, she felt an actual shiver.

Nice, she thought hazily. This was nice.

He kissed her neck again, moved down to her collarbone, then lower to the top of her breast. When he reached the curve, she snuggled close in anticipation of his soft, wet kiss. Instead she felt the sharp pain of his teeth.

“What?” she yelped and jumped back.

“You okay, baby?”

Cliff looked so normal, so much like he always did, that at first she couldn't figure out what was wrong. She glanced down and saw he'd bitten her hard enough to break the skin. She saw the clear indentation of his teeth and blood seeping up through the broken skin.

“What was that?” she demanded.

“Don't you like it?”

His voice and demeanor were so at odds with his behavior, that she couldn't understand what was happening.

“You want me to do it again?” he asked, still speaking softly, warmly.

She reached for her T-shirt and started to pull it on.

He ripped it out of her hands. She never saw him raise his fist. The next thing she knew, light and pain exploded in her cheek.

Instinctively she turned away, but she wasn't fast enough. She could see the front door, her purse with her cell phone. If she could get to either.

But she didn't have a chance. He hit her face again.

“Whore,” he whispered into her ear. “You think I didn't know? That I wouldn't find out? I had a friend check up on you. He called me today and said that someone with your name was arrested in New Orleans for solicitation. I told myself it wasn't you, but then I saw that text message and I knew what you were. What you'd always be.”

Violet cried out. “Stop!” she screamed. “Stop it now!”

She'd been beaten up twice before in her life—both times while she was still on the streets. Back then she'd been high and that had helped to dull the pain. Now she felt the sting of the smack, the blood and loosened teeth of his punch.

Cliff raised his arm again. She ducked, determined not to be hit. But somehow she slipped and then she was falling. The side of her head hit the coffee table.

Agony exploded. She felt the hot wetness of blood. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, she thought as she went down on her knees.

Survive, she told herself, wishing the high-pitched screaming would stop. Stay alive.

Someone pounded on her front door. “What's going on in there?”

She recognized the voice of her elderly male neighbor. Mr. McAllister was maybe a hundred-and-thirty pounds and used a cane.

I'm fine.

Violet meant to say the words, but they wouldn't come out. It was only then she realized that she was the one screaming and she didn't know how to stop.

Blood filled her mouth from the cut on her head, and she vomited.

Her front door opened. She heard Mr. McAllister demand, “Who are you? What were you doing to Violet?” then the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs.

She allowed herself to fall to the carpet. As she hit, the room went blurry. She struggled to stay conscious.

Someone moved past her. She heard a voice saying something about a beating and giving an address. Mr. McAllister, she thought, slipping away. She would have to thank him later.

 

The police officer's gaze was both sympathetic and unsurprised. Violet knew she saw this kind of thing all the time. You didn't have to be poor or unemployed to be abused.

Violet did her best to stay very, very still. Her head throbbed with a pain she'd never felt before. The nurse had promised to return and hook up the IV as soon as they confirmed her head injury wasn't serious. There was also the issue of her swollen jaw, black eyes and assorted other bruises from the fall.

Things would be better soon, she told herself. As soon as the pain medication hit her system, everything would be better.

“We're going to find him,” the officer said. “He'll be charged.”

Violet nodded slightly.

“Charged is good,” she said, knowing it wouldn't matter at all. He would post bond and be back out on the streets. Probably looking for her. A restraining order was only a technical aid. It wouldn't physically keep him from coming after her.

There had to be others, she thought sadly. He'd snapped too easily, too quickly. She would bet a lot that he'd done this before. Other women out there who had lived through the same. She hoped the police found out if he had.

As usual, her gut had been no help. But when compared to what he'd done to her, the losers she usually gravitated toward were actually looking pretty good. The obvious solution was to avoid men altogether, she told herself. To just accept that she was alone and go with it. She just hoped she wasn't going to have to leave Georgetown to get away from him.

She closed her eyes and told herself that in a few days she would feel better. That her body would heal. She was less sure about the rest of her, though. That would take longer.

The nurse returned. “We'll be keeping you tonight for observation, but as of now, all indications are that you're going to be just fine. You've got a big bump though.” He hooked up the IV and offered something to eat.

“I'm not hungry,” Violet told the male nurse, who looked concerned. “I'm fine.”

“Does it bother you that I'm a man?” he asked. “Do you want me to switch you to one of the other nurses?”

Unexpected tears filled her eyes. She wasn't prepared for kindness. The last time this had happened, she'd been maybe nineteen and strung out on drugs. She'd been more con
cerned about getting discharged so she could get high again than thinking about staff or worrying about healing.

Violet looked at the guy. He was maybe five-eight and a hundred-and-fifty pounds. His eyes were soft brown and there were flecks of gray in his blond hair. His wedding ring looked a little battered, as if he'd been wearing it for years.

“I'm not worried. I could take you.”

He grinned. “Probably. Try to rest. The pain medication should already be working.”

She frowned, then realized the sharpness had faded, leaving behind only dull throbbing.

“It is,” she told him. “Thanks.”

“I'm going to bring you a sandwich later. If you argue with me about eating it, I'll arm wrestle you.”

She caught her breath and winced. Her ribs weren't broken, but they were bruised from where she'd apparently smacked them on the table, as well. “Okay, okay. Just don't make me laugh.”

The nurse—his name tag said Henry—touched her hand. “You're safe here, Violet. Try to get some sleep.”

“I will.”

She waited until he'd walked out, then closed her eyes, only to open them immediately. The fear she didn't want to acknowledge was still there.

She was safe, she reminded herself. Cliff would be in jail for at least the night. When she was discharged, she would figure out where she could go that was safe. A hotel, she thought.

“Violet?”

She looked up and saw Beth standing in the doorway. Jenna's mother looked pale and was obviously trying to stay calm. Violet felt herself flush as shame rushed through her.
Women like Beth didn't deal with situations like this in their normal lives.

“I'm sorry,” Violet whispered, dropping her gaze to her hands. “They insisted on contact information and I wasn't thinking. They promised they wouldn't call.”

“Don't,” Beth whispered, rushing to her side, tears filling her blue eyes. “Oh, Violet, honey. What did he do to you?” The tears slipped down her cheeks.

Violet shook her head. “Don't cry. I'm fine.” She winced. “My head hurts is all and I got that from falling.”

Beth took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “You're not fine. He hurt you. I talked to Henry. Cliff hit you. That's not supposed to happen. You liked him so much. We went shopping so you could make him happy.”

“Not a mistake I'll make again,” Violet said. “Really, I'm fine.”

“Stop saying that!” Beth sounded furious. “You're not and that bastard is the reason.” She brushed the moisture from her cheeks with her free hand. “How bad is it?”

“A lot of bruising.”

Beth winced. “Oh, Violet.” Her lips quivered, as if she were on the verge of crying again, then she got control. “All right. You're staying here tonight. They'll be letting you out in the morning. I'll be here to pick you up.”

“You don't have to.” She didn't want to put anyone out.

“I want to. I'm bringing you home. You're staying with us until you're healed. Do you hear me?”

The generous offer bewildered her. “I'll be okay on my own.”

“Violet, you need taking care of.”

Simple words, spoken as if they were nothing more than a polite response to “How are you?”

“You barely know me.”

Beth bent over and kissed Violet's forehead. “I know plenty. You're coming home with us and staying in the guest room.”

Violet was about to protest when she remembered. “The store. Jenna. I've let her down.”

Beth actually rolled her eyes. “Right. Because you knew Cliff was going to beat you up and you deliberately waited until Jenna was gone just to mess with her. What a great plan.”

Despite the pain it would cause, Violet giggled. “Okay. Good point.”

“Thank you. Don't worry about the store. Jenna's due back on Tuesday and I can take care of things until then. I'll call Tiffany and Kayla and have them come in extra hours. There weren't any cooking classes scheduled, so that part is easy.”

Beth kissed her forehead again. “I need to let you get some rest. Henry was very clear about that. Marshall is going to pop in for a second to say good-night, then we'll be back in the morning to take you home.”

“Thank you,” Violet whispered. “For everything.”

“You're welcome. Try to sleep, honey.”

She left, and Marshall stepped into the room. He was big and broad, yet Violet wasn't afraid of him. Not even when he looked so fierce and angry.

“I don't know what to say,” the older man admitted as he stood by her bed. “I've never had to deal with anything like this.”

“I'll heal,” she promised. “It's okay.”

“It's many things, but okay isn't one of them.” Marshall drew in a breath. “Can I hug you? Would that hurt too much?”

It would probably jostle the hell out of her, but at that second, she didn't much care. “It would be fine.”