The Heart Of The Game (28 page)

And think about tomorrow and her plans in the morning.

He slid his hand up under her blouse. The cool, callused texture of his thumb as he dragged it across her nipple made her belly clench with want. He trailed kisses to her cheek and then to the cusp of her ear. “I really, really like you,” he murmured.

Her heart slammed inside her chest, tattooing his words and the truth they carried. What had started out as a delicious lark and a sensual adventure had taken a turn she hadn’t intended. Though she’d like nothing better than to melt into the lush invitation his kiss offered, to slake her craving for him and not think about the future, she wasn’t going to be that sort of person.

She hadn’t planned to care. But she did. And he deserved more than un’avventura. So much more. He deserved to be loved, and not long distance. Right up close. By a woman from his world, a woman who got him, who understood the career he loved and the things he cherished.

A woman like the bronc rider.

Way too much of her wished she could be that woman, but the rational part of her knew she could never be her. The endless planning and the phone calls with vendors and carpenters to discuss the gallery space were all too real, all too frequent, reminders of what would never be.

She
would
be returning to Rome. The deed to the gallery, with her name typed in large black letters, had arrived by courier.

There was no turning back.

She pulled away. To the outside world he might appear to be a charming, fast and loose sports star with a devil-may-care attitude, but she knew better—Cody Bond was a gentleman. A man of heart. And knowing that he truly cared for her made her decision to put distance between them that much harder. But doing so was the fair, the just, the
right
thing to do. He deserved more than she had to offer. So even though her body craved his touch and her heart called out for her to listen to its message, she knew she had to choose a different path.

She took in a shaky breath and worked hard to ignore the trembling deep in her body.

“I need to get back,” she said, gathering her purse and her jacket. She slid her gaze from the surprise in his eyes. “I have a family meeting I can’t put off.” It was true. Somewhat.
Barely
. Her meeting with Coco wasn’t until the next morning.

He smiled. “Why not spend the night? I can drive you to the ferry in the morning.”

In the face of his smile and the evening of delight that his words offered, she nearly caved. But she’d just be putting off misery, maybe making it worse, making their unavoidable separation harder.

She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d planned for him to just be a temporary lover and that her plans for keeping their relationship safely in the realm of sensual sex had failed. She didn’t even have words to attempt a confession like that. She hadn’t meant to fall for him, and she sure hadn’t meant for him to fall for her. The best plan would be for her to simply disappear so he could forget about her and move on.

The rumbling, bottomless feeling in her belly told her that though she might be doing the right thing, she was also shutting a door to a nascent future that called to her from a deep place she’d never fathomed, with a voice she’d never before heard, and with a power that astonished her.

But she couldn’t give up one dream to pursue another, not when the first was so close to fulfillment and the second so filled with risk.

“It’s a very early meeting.”

He held her gaze for some moments.

Her heart stuttered at the cool look that came into his eyes. Oh God. This was how it would be. Over. That is it
would
be if she had a decent bone in her body and could follow through on what she knew was right.

It was all she could do not to jump back into his arms and erase that cool look, watch as it turned to heat instead.

He rose from the sofa and grabbed his keys from a side table. “I’ll drive you home.”

She was grateful he didn’t ask probing questions.

“Thank you, but my car is at the Larkspur Ferry landing.” She wiggled her foot. “And it’s not necessary. It’s my left ankle. I can drive fine.” She tried to force a laugh but couldn’t conjure more than a wavering smile.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.
Why
couldn’t their relationship have stayed light and simple? The question had barely registered before the memory of hearing his voice on the hill shot into her. She didn’t believe in fate, nor destiny. But the two of them shared a connection deeper than she’d ever imagined possible. A connection she had to sever and sever now or she might never again find the strength to do it.

“Cody, I...” She dragged at the words she knew she had to say, the only words that would free him and let him get on with his life. “I think it’s best if we stopped seeing each other.”

He crossed his arms. “I got the message.”

“What I mean is—”

“I get it. You want some space.”

She nodded. Space. She didn’t want space at all. But if that made sense to him and would help her do what she knew was best, then space it would be. Maybe it was a good thing that Italy was thousands of miles away. Separating from Cody might not be so manageable after all.

The sun was setting as Zoe boarded the ferry. Cody stood at the edge of the dock. They had ridden in silence during the short drive to the ferry terminal, but the tension in the truck made the drive feel never ending. She’d shoved back her impulse to kiss him goodbye. She couldn’t trust her resolve in any way. She craved his touch and kisses, feared she might crave them for as long as she lived.

As the boat reversed and then motored away, he waved. She raised her hand from the steel railing of the ferry and waved back. And watched until she could no longer make out his form in the distance.

Tears she’d managed to hold back earlier tracked down her cheek. She couldn’t ignore the protesting voice in her heart informing her that she was more than a fool; she was a coward, afraid of considering a different future, of even testing any waters that might result in more heartbreak. Perhaps even afraid to open her heart to love. That message came through loud and clear.

Sunlight poured into the carriage house Zoe’s father had refurbished to serve as Coco’s photography studio. The upstairs had been remodeled to provide an apartment for Coco and Anastasia. Downstairs, one entire wall had been replaced with double-paned windows that looked out over the older vines at the western border of the family compound. Though the weather had been mild, almost balmy, the grape leaves had already turned a hundred shades of red and yellow, blanketing the ground in a carpet that heralded the coming winter.

“Did you ask Cody about posing for my calendar project when you saw him yesterday?” Coco asked as she traipsed down the stairs.

“I didn’t.” Zoe busied her hands with unpacking a box of LED studio lights. But she didn’t miss the pout on her sister’s lovely face. Coco could pout with the force of a maligned heroine. If she’d been a courtesan in the seventeenth century, her lively, captivating sister would’ve had the world at her feet.

Coco sighed. “I thought about what you said last week. Maybe you’re right. Maybe my project is not so well conceived.”

Zoe heard the self-criticism lacing through her sister’s tone and hated that she’d stirred such deadening energy. They were sisters; they helped each other. It didn’t matter that some aspects of Coco’s plan weren’t entirely based in reality—her project had heart. The project could be adjusted and the business model improved. Raising funds to expand and equip the homeless shelter for single mothers and their children was a worthy goal. And securing money to develop programs to help the mothers gain occupational skills and find jobs that would keep them out of the shelters was even more important. Coco was determined to raise the profile of the shelter and had set her heart on creating a calendar that she was sure would be a bestseller and reach people who wouldn’t normally even think about the plight of homeless women and children.

Zoe softened and considered how to suggest a few practical alterations to Coco’s original plan. “The calendar is a good idea. You just might have to feature men who are less famous, less allergic to the spotlight.”

“But the men
need
to be famous, or at least publicly intriguing. That’s exactly what will make the calendar a success.” Coco took the portrait light Zoe handed her and propped it on her worktable. “Alex could help. I’ve seen how he is with his teammates; they would listen to him.” She paused, tapping her finger to her cheek. “But maybe you’re right—I could feature men other than just the baseball players. Mix it up a bit and photograph some hot, local men who have interesting lives—men in the vineyards, local firefighters, maybe even a surfer or two. And I could shoot them on location—
that
would add interest.” A sultry smile crossed Coco’s face. “Although I still think it’s the hot bodies that will have the most appeal. Did I tell you that Jackie’s assistant veterinarian agreed to pose?”

Zoe laughed. “Gage would run naked through the streets if he thought it would secure him a date.”

“Not funny. This is
serious
. I could raise enough money to fund the whole rebuild of the homeless shelter.”

“When you receive your inheritance from Nonna, you can fund the dormitory expansion at Inspire and still have money left over for their At Work in the World program.”

“But that’s
four
years from now!
Four
. Think how many women and children we could help in that time. The shelter’s full already and it’s not even winter.”

Zoe understood the urgency. She’d toured the Inspire facility with Coco the week before. If she hadn’t poured thousands of euros into the gallery, she could’ve helped get Coco’s project going. And she could help, but not until she received next year’s allowance from the inheritance she received from their grandmother. The fact that the money was metered out in annual sums after each grandchild reached twenty-five had caused much grumbling among her siblings, but Zoe was happy to have the funds.

But even Zoe’s allowance wouldn’t be enough to keep the shelter going for long, and certainly there wouldn’t be enough to fund the education and career development programs. Yet neither would the funds from the calendar finance it indefinitely. What the shelter really needed was a well-heeled board of directors and a marketing and fundraising staff. But Coco didn’t think like that. They’d had the same argument too many times to count.

But dreams, once they took root, didn’t much care about any obstacle thrown in their path.

Didn’t she know.

Yet even if Coco’s project couldn’t fund every need at the shelter, maybe it could make Inspire and its programs more visible, maybe help attract donors with deep pockets.

Coco fisted her hands to her hips. “I want to do this on my own. Maybe you don’t understand.”

“Oh, I do.” Zoe tried to keep her voice steady, but the tension roiling in her distorted her words.

Coco eyed her and immediately put an arm around Zoe’s shoulder, the way one of them always had when the other was sad.

“Tell me, Zizi.”

And she did. It felt good to share her secret, to tell Coco the details about the work on the gallery. And about her plans to return home.

“I nearly fought with Papa this morning. But I’m not ready to tell him my plans—he’s so determined to keep me from returning to Rome. Yet I feel bad making plans behind his back... I feel like a traitor. But it’s time, Coco. It’s time for
me
to move on, even if he can’t. I’ve done what I can here. And I’m
not
interested in being part of running a vineyard, here or anywhere else. I searched deep to find some spark for such work, but I couldn’t. It’s not me, none of this—not the wine business, not living here.” She pulled away from Coco’s embrace. “You love California and I’m happy for you, but my heart’s not here.”

She didn’t mention her warring feelings about Cody. Those feelings were too raw, too jagged. Too scary. She’d spent a near-sleepless night as her heart argued with her principles. Her dreams, when they’d come, hadn’t helped. Cody lived in sleep’s realm as alive and alluring as ever. She let out a deep sigh.

“
I’ll
come to your gallery opening,” Coco said brightly as she sat back against the pillows on the couch. “I want to share that with you.” And then her face darkened. She stiffened and sat back up, glaring at Zoe. “But what about Cody?”

“I haven’t told him. I haven’t told anyone except you and Parker.”

“But he cares for you.”

Though Zoe didn’t want to stir painful memories, she also wanted to tell her sister the truth.

“Did you ever notice how little Mama spoke about California?”

Coco shook her head.

“Whenever she did talk about it, I always felt she was sharing some secret part of her soul. The day before she passed, I sat with her and she spoke of her life as she never had before. She told me that she wished she could’ve raised us here, in this place she loved. But her love for Papa was so deep, she stayed in Italy, made it her home. I saw in her face how love could alter a dream and the price that is paid when that happens. I’m not as strong as she was. I couldn’t live in one place while always yearning for another.”

Coco crossed her arms, her expression serious. “Mama said a lot of strange things before the end, Zoe. The drugs altered her mind. And you
can’t
live your life by other people’s ideas of perfection. You seem happy around Cody. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

Happy wasn’t the first word that came to Zoe’s mind when she thought about Cody. But then she couldn’t put words to the nearly overwhelming feelings she had for him, to the desire he fired that stripped her bare until she couldn’t think or sleep. She didn’t want her heart to put roots down in California. She wouldn’t do it.

“Italy is
home
to me, it lives in my soul. It would be convenient to deny that it’s true, but I can’t. I don’t want to raise my children here, always wishing that I were somewhere else, always aching to run back to Rome. It wouldn’t be fair to them. Not fair to me. And besides, Cody doesn’t want children. He said as much.”

“Men change their minds about such things when they fall in love. He may not know what he wants. But I think it’s pretty clear he wants you.”

And she remembered how Cody had been with Sophie, how he had romped and played with Casey. But maybe she’d misread those occasions or maybe her memories were rewriting the truth just to torture her.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Cody’s career is in a game that isn’t played in Italy. His
life
is here, Coco.
Nothing
can change that.”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me.” Coco chewed at her bottom lip. Then she tapped Zoe’s arm. “Surely they can balance together, dreams for life
and
for love? You won’t know if you don’t try.”

“My little sister is a philosopher.”

“All I know is that since you met Cody, you’ve been more yourself, confident and happy. I
missed
you. I wasn’t sure my sunny partner in crime would ever return.”

“You make me sound like a princess in a fairy tale, finally waking up after years of oblivious slumber.”

“My point exactly.” Coco crossed her arms. “When will you tell Papa of your plans?”

“Soon. As soon as I feel confident that nothing can stop the progress on the gallery. I’ll tell Cody then too.” She dreaded both conversations.

“He won’t like your plan.”

“Perhaps when the time is right and I show him the business plan, he’ll finally get that I want a project of my own.”

But then again perhaps not. Why he wanted for her specifically to take an interest in the Sonoma business he’d never made clear. He wanted to keep her close, that was certain.

“He didn’t even let Anastasia go back for her friend Michela’s wedding,” Coco pointed out. “They had to meet up in London for a belated celebration, remember? He’s very determined that none of us return to Italy. Although why he allowed Rafe and Gaetano to remain behind, I do wonder. It doesn’t make any sense at all. I’m beginning to think he’s gone slightly mad since Mama passed. He’s driving me crazy with all those alarms and codes. I’m getting so I don’t even want to go up to the house. I wish he’d just sell that silly Monet and be done with it.”

“That Monet was Mama’s favorite.”

“Oh,” Coco said, blinking. “I didn’t know.”

Zoe thought of the apparent deceptions regarding his recent trips, but didn’t want to further alarm Coco.

“Someone had to handle the wine business, deal with the estate. Rafe and Gaetano were the logical choices,” Zoe said, trying to sound more convinced than she was. Looking at Coco, it suddenly occurred to her that her brothers might also be involved in the mysterious activities that seemed to be consuming their father’s attention.

“He could’ve let you stay too.”

But they both knew that of all the daughters, Zoe was the one he counted on most. She’d nursed their mother when their father couldn’t stay in the same room without tears rolling down his cheeks, when he would sometimes leave because he didn’t want their mother see him lose heart. When their mother would sometimes convince him to leave so that her unrelieved pain wouldn’t make her strong husband feel helpless.

In the early days after the move, when she’d found him staring at blank walls, she’d had him help her hang paintings or had rousted him to join her for a walk. And she’d never told him that she feared he’d drop into the same abyss she circled every day. The prospect of them both slipping into the darkness was more than she allowed herself to consider.

When she’d left for Argentina, Zoe had thought that he was nearly back to normal. And though his odd behavior since she’d returned disturbed her, she could see that he was getting stronger every day. Or maybe she was twisting her perceptions to suit her plans. She hoped not.

“He’ll come around in time,” Zoe said. “Besides, I’m the only one who wants to go back. He’ll have all of you. And by Christmas he’ll have the rest of the girls here with him too.” Zoe looked out over the vineyard. “I do envy you. You love this place.”

“This is paradise—I only wish you felt it too.”

“It would be
so
much simpler if I could love it like you do. But even my love of polo has dimmed since I’ve been here.”

“That
is
serious.”

“I wish I could explain things better, that I could—”

“I have the
perfect
plan,” Coco said as her face lit up. “When Kiki and Tatiana return from their trip with Pippa, and then when Julia and Amber come back from Tibet—and before they all take off again—we can visit you! It’s been so long since just us sisters have been together. We can even invite Dante if he ever returns from Australia.” Her eyes narrowed. “How long can it possibly take to study their winemaking techniques? He’s been away for months.”

“I may not like the viniculture classes I’ve been taking, but one thing I have learned—great wine is an art as much as a craft. Dante could be gone for quite a while.”