Seduce Me Sweetly (Heron's Landing Book 1) (5 page)

But before she could interrogate the innocent front desk girl, Adam returned with a green bottle in hand. “Here,” he said gruffly. “This will help with the burn.”

Taking it, Joy realized it was aloe vera. He’d brought her this out of…kindness? Thoughtfulness? She was so shocked she couldn’t speak. She stared at the plastic bottle filled with green goo and then looked up at Adam.

He seemed suddenly discomfited, and he shifted on his heels.

“Thank you,” she finally responded. “This will help a lot.”

Joy could feel Kerry staring at them. The girl had probably never seen her boss be blatantly helpful to anyone before.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

The moment stretched until it was awkward, so Joy did what she always did: made it more awkward by giggling. She giggled like a girl, hand over her mouth. And then, when she saw Adam’s face—surprised, bemused, annoyed?—she grabbed her purse and skittered out of there, choking on her laughter all the way home.

Chapter Four

“It’s so nice of you to join us,” Julia Danvers said as she kissed Adam’s cheek. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”

They’d actually seen him…well, two weeks ago? Three? Adam couldn’t remember, and guilt coiled in his gut. His parents only lived a few miles from his own house, but sometimes it felt like they lived on the other side of the country when he got swamped with working at River’s Bend. And his mom was extremely talented at letting him know when he’d stayed away for too long.

“He just didn’t feel like eating another Hot Pocket for dinner,” Grace said. She laughed at her brother’s expression. “You know I’m right—you eat the same as an eighteen-year-old freshman in college.”

“Can in, Squirt,” Adam growled. “Or I’m going to tell Mom and Dad about the Merlot Incident of 2013.”

Grace blushed bright red.

“What Merlot Incident? What in the world are you talking about?” Carl Danvers asked as he entered the dining room, slapping a newspaper against his thigh. The patriarch of the Danvers family was still a good-looking man in his mid-sixties, with salt and pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard that tended to frame a perpetual frown. He wasn’t an unhappy man, but instead tended toward seriousness; people who didn’t know him well assumed he wasn’t the nicest person, but they were unaware of how dedicated he was to both his family and his community.

“Oh nothing, Dad. Adam’s just talking shit again,” Grace said before she stuck her tongue out at her brother.

“No swearing at the table. I’m going to start a swear jar if you keep that up, young lady.” Carl opened his newspaper with a flourish.

Adam laughed into his fist while Grace shot daggers at him.

“Goodness, aren't you two too old to squabble?” Julia set a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table in front of Adam, but she slapped his hand away when he was about to serve himself. “You two act like a bunch of kindergarteners.”

“It’s not my fault Adam has the maturity of a five year old,” Grace said with an eyelash flutter. “How quickly did you insult Ms. McGuire after being introduced? Five seconds? One?”

Adam felt an uncustomary flush crawl up his face at the memory: he had been unaccountably rude to Joy, even if his reasons made sense to him. And at the thought of Joy, he remembered her laughter as she’d left River’s Bend, when he’d so stupidly given her that bottle of aloe vera. He thought about how she’d listened to him explain the ins and outs of the vineyard. How she’d taken notes with her ridiculous pink pen, and how she’d seemed like this exotic, colorful bird in the midst of drab sparrows.

God, now he was going to start writing poetry about her? He tipped back his bottle of beer at the thought.

“Who’s Ms. McGuire?” Carl asked, behind his paper.

Julia snatched the paper from him when she’d set the last plate of food on the table. “No reading at the table. And she’s the new woman come to town, right?”

Grace nodded. “She came here from Chicago. She’s a writer.”

“Oh, how nice,” Julia said, sitting down. “Adam, will you do grace?”

Grace made a face at him. He closed his eyes and dreamed about pushing his sister’s face into the mashed potatoes as he thanked the Lord for the food before them.

The conversation flowed around the usual topics: the vineyard, the news in town, Grace’s painting, and eventually flowed back to the topic of Joy McGuire. Heron’s Landing received so few newcomers—people unrelated to anyone else in the town—that whenever it did happen, that person became the topic of conversation for at least a month. Adam assumed it was a town rule at this point.

“What brings a writer from Chicago to this place?” Carl asked as he cut up his steak. “Seems like the last place someone like that would move.”

Grace said, “Maybe she needed a change of pace? Some place to detox?”

Carl grunted.

“I think it’s lovely,” Julia said, smiling at her family. With her light blonde hair and with only a few wrinkles on her face, Julia seemed years younger than fifty-nine. But she’d always prided herself on a neat, put-together appearance, and even when sitting with her family for dinner, she wore a pearl necklace and her hair up in a tidy bun. Adam hadn’t seen his mom wear something like sweatpants in all the years he’d known her, although she’d traded in her heels for flats now that she was older. “When can I meet this young woman?” Julia asked. “Where is she staying?”

“Above the general store,” Grace responded. “She has the apartment up there.”

Julia said, “I assume she’s unmarried?”

Joy’s ring-less left hand flashed in Adam’s mind, and he was annoyed at himself for looking in the first place. What did it matter to him whether or not Joy McGuire was married? It wasn’t as if they could date.

At the thought of dating Joy—kissing Joy, touching Joy—Adam’s body turned hot, and he finished off his beer to help stem the tide of whatever it was he was feeling right now.

“No, she’s not married. But I think she may have left someone behind in Chicago,” Grace said. “When she comes to Trudy’s in the morning, sometimes I watch her, and she seems…sad.”

Carl glanced at his youngest, his eyebrows lowered. “And what did I tell you about speculating about people?”

“That everyone does it, I just happen to say it out loud?” Grace said with a bright smile.

“Dad’s right,” Adam said suddenly. He didn’t want to talk about Joy anymore, and he especially didn’t want to talk about her unmarried state, either. “It’s none of our business.”

Grace protested, but Julia gave her The Look. Grace quieted, but not without a glare at Adam for getting her in trouble in the first place.

“Speaking of business, how is the old place doing?” Carl asked. “The buds looking good?”

If Adam didn’t want to talk about Joy, he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about River’s Bend. But at his dad’s expectant expression, he replied, “The ones that survived all of that rain look good. But it looks like this harvest won’t be a great one.” He sawed into his steak, not wanting to see his dad’s face. What must he think of his oldest son, who’d had three years in a row of bad harvest? The disappointment of his dad was one of the top three things Adam never wanted to experience, and now it was happening—again.

“Well, you can’t control the weather, Adam,” Julia said prosaically. “Remember ’83, Carl? That was one of the worst harvests we ever had. But we bounced back, just like you will.” She patted Adam’s hand like he was little boy, but hearing his mom’s encouragement bolstered his own mood somewhat.

“Jaime says that you might start doing events again.” Grace’s voice was cool, offhand, but she knew she was throwing a bomb onto the table.

Adam glared at her with an expression saying,
I’ll get you for this later.

“Events?” Carl set down his fork and knife. “Son, you know what happened the last time.”

Adam said, “Of course I do. And we’ve only discussed it—we’ve made no decision otherwise.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Grace offered. “You could hire someone part-time to be an events coordinator.” She gasped, her silverware clattering to her plate. “You know who you should hire? Ms. McGuire! She could do marketing and social media. Even write up stories about the events you’re doing—”

“Absolutely not.” Adam knew his voice was too harsh, but he couldn’t listen to Grace prattle on about things she didn’t remotely understand. He saw his sister bite her lip, her expression hurt and annoyed, but he couldn’t be sorry for that. “If we end up doing events—which is unlikely—we’ll be doing it without some flashy journalist turning River’s Bend into a wedding hub instead of a vineyard.”

The table fell silent. They all remembered what had happened the last time, but they also knew that Adam could be as stubborn as the best of them, too. Just because they failed once, didn’t necessarily mean they’d fail again. But Grace was staring at her plate morosely, and Carl never chose to enter family fights unless absolutely forced to.

The family mediator, Julia finally said, “Let us know how we can help. I know you’re hesitant to change things, Adam, but you’re smart enough to know when to change course, too.”

Adam did know that. Deep down inside, he had a feeling they’d have to expand the vineyard into doing events, but he wanted to avoid that for as long as possible. Like he’d told Jaime, he didn’t really have the money for a full-time event coordinator—possibly a part-time one, but that was it—and even then, that didn’t mean success.

“How is Jaime, by the way?” Julia asked. Her glance landed on Grace, who looked up from her plate with a slight blush.

“How should I know?” Grace said. “I barely see him.”

Everyone in the family—and probably the entire town—knew that Grace Danvers had nursed a crush on Jaime Martínez since he’d arrived in Heron’s Landing. But Jaime was seven years her senior, and her brother was his boss, so any interaction had been strictly platonic. This was fine with Adam: his baby sister was too young to date, and although Jaime was a great guy, he had a feeling the two of them were too different to rub along well. Plus, Jaime was his employee, so that made things extra awkward.

“He’s great,” Adam offered, giving his sister a reprieve. “Although if he keeps firing sous chefs, I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Language,” Carl said.

“We should invite him to dinner more often. I can’t imagine he enjoys eating alone. Don’t you think, dear?” Julia said as she turned to her husband.

Since Carl now lived with two women exclusively, Adam had a feeling his dad would love to live in a bachelor pad every once in a while. But his dad was smart enough to say, “Sure, invite him.”

“He’ll take Gavin’s place,” Grace said. Gavin Danvers was the second-oldest brother, but he’d moved away from Heron’s Landing years ago and rarely visited anymore. Adam had spoken to him maybe a month ago, but Gavin had never been particularly chatty to begin with. And now that he was having issues in his marriage again, he was more taciturn. Downright surly, really. He and his wife Teagan had been having trouble for a while now, mostly due to Teagan’s battle with bipolar disorder. They also had a young daughter, Emma, who the family had only gotten to see a handful of times.

Julia sighed sadly at the name of her other son, but no one else felt compelled to discuss Gavin right now. He’d made the decision to stay away, and Adam could only hope that if he needed help, he’d ask for it.

After finishing up dinner and helping with the dishes, Adam told his parents and Grace goodbye. Grace, for her part, was still annoyed with him, but thankfully, his little sister wasn’t one to hold grudges. His mom hugged him, while Carl instructed him to do what he needed to do to save the vineyard. As if he needed to be told that, but Adam had nodded before making his way outside.

The sun was just setting, fireflies dancing about in the grass as cicadas sang in the trees. Adam had to admit he loved this time of year, with the long days and warm nights. Sure, the mosquitoes were annoying—he slapped at his arm when he heard one buzzing—but nothing was perfect. Not Heron’s Landing, or River’s Bend, or himself.

With that jolly thought, he drove back through the town, stopping at Mike’s general store for a few things. Mike owned the only grocery store in Heron’s Landing, and it also featured a small café and hardware section as well. Picking up pasta, tomatoes, and a few other items—no Hot Pockets this time, damn Grace—Adam was about to check out when he spotted a flash of color in his peripheral vision.