The joy that had rippled through me since seeing everyone here stilled a bit. “Bad news?” I worried suddenly about the winery or the house, about Sophia and Rae, who were not here. “What is it?”

  “The Shaft,” Robin said, her voice lower and carrying a hint of sadness. “We broke up.”

  “Oh honey,” Pamela said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Robin sniffed. “No, no. It’s for the best. He might have been too much man for me. And you know I don’t say that lightly.”

  On that strange note, Boston stepped forward and took Pamela’s shoulder bag from her. “You must be tired, guys. Let’s get you home. Jacques, we can drop you off on the way back to Mom’s.”

  Pamela and I exchanged a look, and she reached out to take my hand. Something about the action made Boston pause, and soon the family was gathered tightly around us again, looking worried.

  “Actually, everyone, we need to tell you something,” Pamela said quietly. She had decided right after we married that she would need to tell the family in person. So we’d been married for just over two months, but the boys did not yet know.

  “What is it?” Lincoln asked, his serious face taking on an even more stoic expression.

  “Well, while we were in France,” Pamela began, “we did something. And I hope you won’t be mad, but we didn’t want to wait forever because we’re not getting any younger. And even though maybe we should have waited a little longer to do it, we just couldn’t help ourselves, you know? It just kind of happened, and⁠—”

  “Mom, that’s enough,” Dalton said, putting up a hand. “You are a grown woman, and you don’t owe us any explanations about what happens between you and Jacques.”

  Dillon was staring at the ring on Pamela’s hand. “Maybe she does, actually,” he said.

  “Ew, no,” Boston said. “That’s okay.”

  I cleared my throat, taking Pamela’s hand, feeling the reassuring band resting on top of the engagement ring on her finger. I hoped her sons wouldn’t be angry. But either way, they deserved to know. “Your mother is trying to tell you that we are married.”

  I left it at that, and after a few seconds, the simple statement sank in, and El and Hannah rushed forward, enveloping us in a hug. “That’s amazing!” El cried. It took just a beat longer for the boys to join the group hug, and soon Robin and Frank joined the group attempting to crush us to death right there at the airport.

  After lots of gasping and exclamation, we could breathe again, and I slid my arm around my wife’s waist.

  “I’m happy for you guys,” Boston said, smiling at us both. “Wish we could have been there, but I understand.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” Pamela said, tears running down her pretty face.

  “So I guess we’ll take you both to Mom’s?” Lincoln asked.

  Pamela looked up at me, her expression suddenly uncertain. “We hadn’t really talked about it. Jacques? Do you want to live at my house? Will that be weird?”

  It was Michael’s house, and part of me worried that these boys might see me moving in as an attempt to take something from their father. “I’m not sure,” I said. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to come home with me,” she said simply. “There’s no point in being apart, and I’m not moving into the apartment over the winery.”

  “Will it be strange, though? I don’t want to overstep.” I glanced around at the faces of Pamela’s children, but didn’t see any judgement or anger there.

  “Don’t be silly,” Pamela said. “It would be much stranger to be apart, or to have to move.”

  The boys were nodding, and relief made my shoulders lift. “All right then,” I agreed. “Let’s go home.”

  The Cunningham family was not one to let an occasion pass without a celebration, and so a week after arriving home to Solano Creek, the Cunning Ham Winery was decorated with sparkling lights and streamers and an enormous wedding cake.

  It was the perfect reception, with a first dance, and plenty of laughter and fun. The room was filled with familiar faces—the family and their significant others, of course, but also so many people I’d gotten to know around town during the time I’d lived here. France would always be my home, but in this lovely small town, surrounded by friends and new family, with my wife in my arms as music swept around us, I knew that I had found the place I was meant to be.

  “I love you, Pamela. Thank you for welcoming me into your family.” I pulled her close and spun her around in the center of the dance floor.

  “I love you too,” she murmured into my ear. “Thank you for showing me that love isn’t a one-time thing, and for helping me find it again. I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.”

  I didn’t know that either, and there, beneath the sparkling lights with my new family all around, my heart swelled with joy. Life was incredible, and I vowed to tuck this moment away to pull out again whenever I needed to be reminded how sweet this world really was.

  EPILOGUE

  PAM

  The warm summer weather had brought everyone to the winery for a cool glass of wine in our air-conditioned tasting room. I’d sent El home earlier this week with the instructions not to come back until she’d popped out that grandbaby of mine and felt up for returning. We’d already discussed that her health came before the winery. Her job would always be there for her, and we’d take turns watching the little one while we worked. What was the use of being the boss if you couldn’t make your own female-centric employment rules?

  I hustled over to grab a clean glass when Jacques poked his head out of the backroom. “I’m all done here. I can help you with the rush now.” He tossed his head left, indicating he’d take that side of the bar, and I’d take the right. I flashed him a quick smile, coming to a complete stop just to get one of his kisses. We’d been married half a year, and while we’d had some hiccups combining households, we’d come out on top and happier than ever.

  “What are you having today, Roy?” I asked the grizzled man that had sat down on the last available seat at the bar. He was Hannah’s neighbor, a fixture here in Solano Creek. He never failed to show up with his suspenders and a bag of scraps hanging off his belt to feed the animals as he walked home.

  “Hannah served me one of your reds that I liked,” he said, running a hand over the beard that needed trimming.

  He’d gone completely white over the years and I had to say, it gave him a distinguished look, ala Sean Connery, though he ventured to the disheveled side. No one would know just by looking at him that his land was worth millions. If he actually sold it, that is.

  “Well, we have a few reds, so let me pour you a couple and you can tell me which one.” I ran back over to grab two more clean glasses. Roy usually sat and made some sort of art project at Hannah’s place, but since business was booming, she’d had to hire a few more employees. Roy said talking to an eighteen-year-old was like talking to a tree trunk. Whatever that meant. Either way, he spent more time at Cunning Ham Winery since she’d brought in the new staff.

  I poured three reds for him and glanced down the bar, seeing everyone engaged in conversation. All glasses were more than half full, which meant I had a minute or two to chat. Roy sipped the first and pursed his lips.

  “Good. But that one wasn’t it.”

  “Try the second one. That’s my personal favorite.” I slid that glass closer to him. “Though I have to say, I haven’t had much time to enjoy a glass lately. I’ve been too busy shopping for baby things and helping Boston and El set up the nursery.”

  Roy humphed and took a sip. “Ah, that’s it!”

  I grabbed the bottle of the cabernet sauvignon and filled his glass, pouring more than normal. Again, what was the point of being the boss if I couldn’t show a little love for my friends?

  “You know, grandkids seem like such an amazing thing when they’re small and lack opinions. Then they grow up, get mouthy, and move away, leaving you to die alone in your rocking chair.”

  I blinked. “Wow, Roy. That’s a really upbeat description there, but I don’t see anyone around here dying anytime soon.”

  This was a common thing with Roy. He’d been proclaiming to be on death’s doorstep for ten years now. He’d cried wolf so many times we just ignored him. Poor guy would one day have a real medical event, and no one would believe him.

  His light blue eyes twinkled as he took another healthy sip of his wine. “Well, that’s the thing with death. You just never know.”

  That sobered me. “I know that all too well.”

  Roy’s big hand, complete with callouses, veins, liver spots, and a sprinkling of knuckle hair, landed on mine. “Forgive me, Pam. I spoke without thinking. May Michael rest in peace.” He gave me a squeeze and let go.

  I gave him a smile to let him know he didn’t need to feel bad. “I think that’s why I’m celebrating my first grandchild so much. I have to enjoy the living or all I would do is focus on the dying.”

  Roy studied me for a moment before leaning closer. “Can I tell you a secret, Pam?”

  I nodded for him to continue.

  His eyes darted left, then right, before coming back to me. They positively sparkled with humor and light. Roy had been what they called a looker back in the day, charming women with his good looks and aw-shucks personality. He was older now, but the vitality was still there.

  “I ain’t planning to die anytime soon, but I’m also not afraid to use my advancing age to get what I want. I’ve summoned my grandkids to come home.”

  He ended there, and I tried to connect the dots. “You invited them to come here to Solano Creek under the guise of dying?”

  He sat back a bit and shrugged. “That’s putting it strongly. I maybe implied a thing or two, but the main point is I’m getting my grandkids back here to put the family back together. They all drifted apart over the years and it’s unconscionable. Family should stick together. Always. So before I die, my job is to stitch this family tree back together again.”

  A customer down the bar took the last sip of wine in her glass. “That sounds reasonable to me, Roy. I can’t wait to meet them again. I’m sure they’ve changed so much since I last saw them.” I made to move, and Roy swigged the last of his wine in one big gulp that made the wine snob in me wince.

  He slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and stood, hitching his soft blue jeans up as he went. “I’ll let you get back to work. I’ve got to go make sure my dog has plenty of water. It’s a hot one out there.”

  I pointed to the woman down the bar, and she gave me an affirmative nod. As I backed away to grab the refill she wanted, I called to Roy, “When did you get a dog?”

  “Just picked him up yesterday from the pound. Lots of dogs need rescuing, and I’ve got the space, so…” He shrugged and turned to leave.

  The door to the winery opened, letting in a blast of heat and sunlight. For a second there, we all turned to look at the newcomer, blinking as the sunlight blinded us. All I saw was a tall, dark outline of a man, a giant actually. Conversation dimmed, as if we all knew there was a stranger in our midst.

  “Did someone lose their weiner dog?” His voice boomed into the hush that had fallen over the late afternoon wine crowd. I wanted to giggle like a little boy using the word weiner for the first time. The giant stepped forward and the door closed behind him. A woman gasped and the conversation picked up with a buzz akin to a disturbed beehive.

  “Is that…?” A man at the bar nudged his buddy. “Is that Trey Callihan?”

  I frowned, not knowing who in the world Trey Callihan was, but also confused at the juxtaposition of a muscled man towering over us carrying a tiny dog in his arms. The dog peeked over the man’s baseball mitts, or hands, as we mere mortals called them.

  “Avert your eyes, mon amour. You are a married woman,” Jacques whispered, suddenly by my side.

  “He’s…” I trailed off, not knowing how to politely describe the man who was creating a stir in my winery. A guy at one of the tables jumped up and was trying to talk to the man, fluttering around him like the paparazzi with an A-list celebrity. The man wore a pair of jeans like a supermodel, though I’d never seen a male model with muscles like that. Plus, he was handsome with sun-kissed brown hair and light blue eyes. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

  “That’s my dog,” Roy called out, walking over to greet the man. The brown and black dog started pedaling its legs in the air as the man held the dog out to Roy. As soon as Roy got close, the dog lifted its back leg and a dark line appeared across the big man’s shirt.

  “Good Lord,” he mumbled, nearly tossing the poor dog into Roy’s arms. “Thanks, Grandpa. Your dog just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”

  Roy held the dog like a prized ancient artifact. “If you were dumb enough to buy a T-shirt for two hundred dollars, you deserve to have it peed on. Walmart’s got the same one for five bucks on Fridays, dummy.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but could I get your autograph?” The guy popping his head around Roy’s grandson finally got his attention.

  He smiled benevolently at him and seemed to turn into a different guy, all jovial and full of smiles. “You bet, man. What’s your name and where did you get those shoes? I have to see if my sponsors can get me a pair.”

  Pretty soon, half the winery was on their feet, headed over to crowd around the man and clambering for an autograph or a selfie. The man just joked and talked his way through a bazillion autographs on the back of the Cunning Ham napkins. I looked over at Jacques, eyes wide with confusion.

  “That’s Trey Callihan. He’s a professional baseball player, my sweet. He was the MVP the last three years before he announced his retirement at the end of last season. Some say he’ll be inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame soon.”

  I patted Jacques’s cheek, always impressed with my man. “How do you know these things?”

  He just shrugged and looked embarrassed. “I may not have been born American, but I do follow the American sports. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me he was Roy’s grandson.”

  “Huh.” I let my gaze follow the people crowding around Trey and pushing poor Roy and his weiner dog to the side. “I didn’t know he was a big deal or I would have told you.”

  Jacques kissed the side of my head. “You should get a selfie with him with the winery in the background or Dalton might never forgive you for passing up the promotional opportunity.”

  I sighed and leaned into Jacques. My husband was smart too.

  When the last person sat down and left Trey alone, he found Roy where he waited by the bar, a disgusted look on his face. I noticed the two hadn’t even hugged, which I found incredibly sad.

  Trey pointed at the dog, who looked almost ready to fall asleep in Roy’s arms.

  “How’d he get loose?”

  “He must have pulled that darn collar I just got him clean off. Poor thing’s probably dehydrated.” Roy swiveled his head until he found me in the crowd. “Pam? Can I bother you for a dish of water?”

  Trey crossed his beefy arms over his chest and lifted an eyebrow. “Probably pulled loose because you put him in a cheap collar. Sometimes you need to pay more for quality.”

  Roy rolled his eyes and ignored his grandson’s dig. “I’m surprised you noticed a wandering dog, what with all the people following you like some sort of celebrity.”

  I put a bowl down on the ground with some clean, cold water. When I stood back up, Trey’s face held the same smile I saw him throw at his fans. The man must whiten his teeth every other day. Or maybe they flashed so brightly because of his tan.

  “Hey there, I’m Trey. This must be your place?” He held his hand out and I shook it.

  “It is. I run it along with my husband and my four sons. Your grandfather here is a regular of ours. One of our favorites.” I put my hand on Roy’s shoulder, somehow feeling like I needed to help him bridge the gap with his grandson. I couldn’t imagine feeling animosity between myself and my future grandkids.

  Roy ran his hand over his brow, his shoulders slumping alarmingly. “I’m feeling just plain tuckered out.” He lifted his head and tossed a pitiful look at Trey. “Can you take Batman to that fancy pet shop that just opened up at the end of Main Street? They should have a collar that’ll fit.”

  Trey’s jaw dropped open. “Batman?”

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering if Roy was up to his normal tricks, but not wanting to call him out on it if this was part of his ploy to get his grandkids back in town. If Trey’s cold shoulder was anything to go by, Roy needed this reunion to happen ASAP if he had any hope of reconnecting.

  “Well, sure. I’m just an old man living alone, and I needed a sidekick.”

  Trey screwed up his face and somehow, even that expression was handsome. “So wouldn’t you name him Robin?”

  Roy grimaced, and I could see the family resemblance. “Gosh no! Calling a dog Robin would be ridiculous.” Then he grabbed his stomach and moaned. “I better get home right now. Here.” He hoisted the poor dog into Trey’s arms and beat a hasty retreat out the door, moving faster than a man should if he was ill.

  I looked at Batman with his beady little eyes, then up at Trey. If storm clouds could manifest in a face, it was coming down like cats and dogs—no pun intended—on Trey’s.

  “Any chance you’d take a selfie with me?” I held up my cell phone with a desperate smile and watched the emotions cross Trey’s face before he settled on what seemed to be a trademark grin.

  “Sure. Sorry to barge in and cause a scene. I saw the dog and tried to catch it and he led me right here.”

  “No problem. It’s an honor to have you. My husband tells me you’re a big deal. I hope you enjoy your time here in Solano Creek.” I held up the phone and leaned into the arm that held Batman. We smiled—Batman’s tongue flopped out the side of his mouth—and I took the picture.

  Trey eased back. “I appreciate it, but I don’t intend to stay here that long. Just long enough to see what Grandpa wants and then I’m on the road again.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9