Once Tasted: A Silver Creek Novel (36 page)

Adele was talking to Clover Stiles, Clinton’s sister. Clover owned a wool shop in Acacia. One of her sources was the Knowleses’ sheep; she used their wool to weave blankets and knit clothing that she then sold in town and at fairs up and down the coast. The crowd shifted, and Mia saw Ava Day and Naomi Blaine walk up to Adele and Clover. Ava owned the beauty salon in town, and Naomi was a yoga instructor. Like Clover, they had
ties to the ranch, offering spa services and yoga classes on weekends and holidays.

Seeing these women together, it struck Mia how varied the Knowleses’ interests and connections to the community were. It amazed her that she’d become part of this network.

Wanting to say hello to her hostess, she made her way toward the group.

“Mia, welcome,” Adele said with a smile.

“Hi, Adele, this is a wonderful party. Everything looks so pretty. Thank you for including me and my crew—and all their friends and family.”

“The more the merrier. It’s nice to have an end-of-the-season barbecue just for us working folk, isn’t it? We’ve all had a long summer.”

“So true,” Ava Day said. “How are you, Mia? I’ve heard the harvest was a good one this year.”

Mia nodded. “Yeah, we were lucky with the weather. Now that the crop’s in, maybe I can deal with my hair.”

“You’re not thinking of cutting it, are you? It’s glorious,” said Clover, who wore her bright-blond hair cropped close to her head.

“You’re only saying that because you’re partial to long-haired sheep, Clover,” she said with a smile.

“Clover’s right, Mia. Most women would kill to have hair with half the body yours has,” Ava said. “But make an appointment and we’ll see what we can do to tame it a tiny bit.”

“Thanks. I’ll give you a call once the wine’s been transferred to the barrels. Right now we’re still in the careful-tending stage.”

“Speaking of wine, Mia, can I get you something to drink?” Adele asked.

Mia smiled and shook her head. “I’ll wait a little. I should go and say hello to Daniel. I spoke to Thomas
today. He sends his best to you both. His thanks, as well.”

“We haven’t done anything,” Adele said. “It’s been all you and Reid.”

An ice age couldn’t have stopped her cheeks from warming. “Well, yes, Reid’s been great—”

“Hi, Mia,” Reid said.

She turned. “Hi.” She cleared her throat. “I was just telling everyone how helpful you’ve been.”

“I like your dress. You look beautiful.”

“Oh! Thank you,” she stammered. Of course she’d agonized over her choice. In the end she’d decided on a blue floral-print jersey that crossed in the front and had a floaty kind of skirt. Mia had always felt that too much of her stuck out whenever she’d worn it previously. But something had changed. It seemed to hang differently. Maybe she truly had lost weight. She suspected that any weight loss was caused less by her grim morning yogurts than by Reid’s fiery lovemaking, a calorie burner if there ever was one.

Abruptly realizing that the four women standing next to her were beaming as their gazes flitted between Reid and her, Mia felt the flush on her cheeks travel south. Half her body was probably bright red. So attractive.

“Actually, Adele, I think I will get that drink now,” Mia said.

“I’ll come with you. Excuse us,” Reid said.

“Of course.” The Mexican lanterns made Adele’s blue eyes twinkle brightly.

The food had been delicious; she was sure of it. But since Reid had stayed by her side throughout the dinner, she could have been eating straw for all she knew. He didn’t crowd her; he didn’t monopolize the conversation; he didn’t stare fixedly at her. He was simply there
and being his casual, charming self, conversing easily with whatever person or couple joined them. Since a good number of the guests were her employees or, in the case of Nell and Beau, friends, they were never alone.

But to Mia, they might as well have been. Being near him made her feel as if she were fourteen again and filled with helpless yearning.

She thought dessert—the earliest moment when she could legitimately steal away—would never come. Finally, Jeff Sullivan and his waitstaff—with Tess, Quinn, Ward, and Reid chipping in—cleared their plates and the serving dishes, and Roo’s dazzling creations appeared. Mia saw platters being passed by Roo and her assistants, offering up miniature tarts and what looked like fruit ices, but mainly there was chocolate: decadent brownies, and pots of Mexican chocolate pudding, and chocolate truffles.

“Roo’s riffing on chocolate tonight,” Beau observed.

“She’s been experimenting with some new recipes and tweaking old ones,” Reid said, having rejoined them.

“You won’t hear me complaining.” Nell sniffed the air. “I swear I can smell the truffles from here. How about you, Mia?”

She could smell only Reid when she inhaled. Citrus, soap, and man. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to skip dessert tonight. I need to get home. Bruno,” she said by way of explanation. She’d been monitoring her crew. They were having a fine time. No one would miss her.

She turned to Reid. “Will you thank your parents for me?”

“Certainly. I’ll accompany you home.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Really, that’s not necessary.”

“I’ll see you home safely.”

“But … but …” she scrambled for something that would keep him at the party. “Dessert’s starting.”

“Strangely enough, I’ve never really been that into chocolate.”

Reid had his hands balled into tight fists and shoved deep into his pockets. It was the only way to resist the urge to haul Mia into his arms or even to reach out and caress the bare skin of her arm with his fingertips. It wasn’t just the setting—her porch, her fumbling with her keys—that triggered memories of their first mind-blowing kisses and what they’d led to. He’d been fighting the need to wrap his arms about her, breathe her in, and taste her from the moment she arrived at the party. Actually, long before that.

He’d told Quinn the truth. He was trying to figure out how to make things right between Mia and him. He’d obviously screwed up. Mia believed that he was into her only for the sex, and damned if he hadn’t been stupid enough to let her think that.

This time he wanted to leave her in no doubt that she was being wooed. He was going to do it carefully and thoroughly. Very thoroughly. She deserved roses and champagne and romantic dinners. Unleashing his desperate need and pouncing on her was not the way to begin his do-over.

She finally got the door unlocked, and Reid heard a heavy scrabbling of nails on wood, then a joyous
woof
as Bruno rushed out to greet Mia. Then, after receiving a hug and a “Hey there, Bruno,” from her, the dog went over to him, circling while his tail thumped Reid’s legs.

Reid had just removed his hand from his pocket to stroke the dog when Bruno bounded down the stairs, racing for the nearest bush.

“It’s a good thing I came home early,” Mia said.

“Yeah.” He shoved his hand back into his pocket and took a breath. “I miss you, Mia.” The silence seemed to last an eternity. “I miss you, too.”

He exhaled in an unsteady rush and nodded. “I’d like to ask you out.”

“Out?”

“On a date.” Another eon passed. Tension squeezed his gut as he waited.

“I—I don’t know if I should.”

“Dinner, Mia. Just dinner. I’d like another chance with you. Please.”

“I—okay,” she whispered.

He nodded, happy and nearly weak-kneed that he’d gotten her to agree to that much. “Good night, Mia. Don’t forget to lock up.” He forced himself down the porch steps and strode quickly to his truck, before his feet turned around of their own volition and brought him back to where he most wanted to be.

Mia was in a state of shock and unexpected, bubbling gladness. He wanted a date with her. A second chance. Could it mean that he actually did want something more than convenient, next-door sex with her?

Slowly she became aware of her surroundings. She was standing on the porch, hugging her middle, a goofy smile lifting her cheeks, and she was cold. There was a nip to the night air. And for some reason her dog was still rooting around in the bushes.

She frowned. “Bruno!” she called. “Bruno, come on inside now.”

Nothing. Usually only a second or two would pass before he’d bound toward her, more than happy to obey. She peered into the darkness and made out his white hindquarters. They were sticking out of the overgrown
aucuba bush she hadn’t had time to prune. Her voice was sharper this time. “Bruno, come here!”

The seriousness in her tone must have registered. He scuttled backward out of the bush, shook himself, and trotted over, licking his lips as he did.

“Sit, Bruno,” she said when he reached her.

He sat and gave his muzzle another long swipe.

She was pretty sure he was looking guilty.

“What did you get into?” she asked.

He thumped his tail, his brown eyes shining.

“Forget it,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t want to know. Come on, it’s time for your bedtime treat—not that you deserve it, you hound dog.”

S
HE WAS AWAKENED
by a single sharp bark and then a piteous whine. Her feet were over the edge of the bed and moving toward her bedroom door before the second whine reached her.

The hall light was illuminated. She hurried down the short passage to the stairs and gave a cry at what she saw on the landing: Bruno, collapsed on his side, breathing heavily. He didn’t so much as raise his head as she barreled down the stairs.

“Bruno,” she whispered as she reached him. His eyes were fixed straight ahead and his ribs heaved dramatically as he panted. Beneath her palm, his heart raced. “Oh God. Hang on, Bruno, please. I’ll get help for you.” Turning, she sprinted up the stairs for her phone.

He answered as she was hurrying back down the hall to Bruno. “Yeah?”

“Reid, can you come right away? I need you.”

“Mia?”

“Yes. It’s Bruno. He’s sick. Really sick. I can’t lift him into the truck.”

“I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

Reid had arrived at her house within minutes, bringing with him the striped wool blanket they’d picnicked on. The grim expression on his face when he’d looked at Bruno made Mia’s heartbeat stutter in fear. Placing the blanket next to Bruno, he’d managed to shift him until he lay on top of it. Scooping the dog into his arms, Reid carried him outside. A Jeep—Mia recognized it as Ward’s—was idling outside, the back door to the cargo area open so the interior was illuminated.

Mia was so grateful he’d anticipated the need for a car large enough to accommodate Bruno. Trying to slide her dog onto the front seat of either Reid’s or her truck would have wasted precious time and possibly hurt him more.

While waiting for Reid to arrive, Mia had looked up the name of the closest emergency animal hospital that was open twenty-four hours. It turned out Reid had, too, with a quick call to Quinn. According to Quinn, it was the best in the area.

The seven-mile trip felt ten times the length, with Bruno’s labored breathing the only sound except for Mia’s murmured chant of “Don’t die. Please don’t die.”

Once there, Reid jumped out of the car and ran around to the back, then lifted Bruno, cradling him in his arms.

Mia followed them into the animal hospital, clutching her bag and Bruno’s records from the shelter and his latest trip to the vet. She’d pulled a sweater on over the T-shirt she slept in and dragged on the first pair of jeans she’d found hanging in her closet.

The brightly lit waiting room was empty save for a couple who sat next to each other, a small animal carrier resting by the man’s feet. Their faces were etched with the same lines of fear Mia knew marked her own.

A young man in blue scrubs was behind the counter.
He looked up from the computer as Mia and Reid hurried toward him, Mia already speaking.

“It’s my dog. There’s something terribly wrong with him. He’s trembling and not responding.”

The young man looked at Bruno’s head, which hung listlessly. Drool was running out the side of his muzzle. “Come with me,” he said, rising from his chair. “We’ll get him in an exam room and I’ll take your information there. The doctor’s with another patient right now, but it should only be a few minutes more.”