Page 85 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner
"My career is more than this one position," I say, withmore conviction than I feel. "The connections I've built and the reputation I’ve established have value beyond this specific job." The moment the words fall from my mouth, they sound more like excuses than reasons.
"And you can't maintain those from anywhere but San Francisco?" His voice softens slightly, an edge of pleading entering his tone. "There are other possibilities worth exploring that might allow you to have both a career and... whatever might develop between us."
"Dominic, I—" The vulnerability in this question nearly breaks my resolve. "The truth is I’m scared."
"How?" His expression shifts, surprise replacing frustration.
"Davis and I were involved in what I thought was a serious relationship, before he started undermining me professionally. I trusted him, and he used everything he knew about me to systematically dismantle the career I'd built. What if—" I swallow hard, forcing myself to articulate the fear I've been avoiding. "What if I risk everything for this connection between us, and end up with nothing? No career, no relationship, nothing to show for taking the chance?"
"You're protecting yourself." Understanding dawns in his eyes.
"I have to," I whisper. Then, gathering courage, I add, "I know that sounds selfish and makes it seem like I don't believe in us, but Dominic—it's been days." I run a hand through my hair, struggling to make him understand. "No matter how intense this connection feels, no matter how real, that's not enough time to base major life decisions on. I can't... it's too much to ask."
I search his face, desperate for him to understand. "It's not that I don't feel something profound happening between us. It's that I'm terrified of letting those feelingsoverride common sense. Again."
Dominic is silent for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is gentle in a way I haven't heard before. "I get it. I do." He takes a deep breath. "I'm not asking you to throw away your career based on a few days with me. That would be insane."
His thumb brushes across my knuckles. "I'm just asking you not to slam the door shut without seeing if there might be a way to keep it open while you handle what you need to in San Francisco." He glances toward the vineyard visible in the distance, his expression softening. "I understand not being able to pick up and leave. I'm tied to Silverleaf, to my vines. They need me here, especially now at this critical stage in establishing the vineyard."
His gaze returns to mine, clear and direct. "Your reasons for going back to San Francisco are no less valid than my reasons for staying here. I respect that. I just think there might be a middle path, if we're both willing to look for it."
The reasonable response nearly undoes me. I expected arguments, pressure, even anger—not this quiet acceptance of my fears.
Sheriff Donovan suddenly calls Dominic's name.
Dominic closes his eyes briefly, visibly struggling to shift focus. "We're not finished with this conversation," he says quietly.
Sheriff Donovan’s expression is grave. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got an emergency at The Haven. Pipe burst in the main water line, flooding the wine cellar. Hunter said you have equipment that might help save their stock before it's completely damaged."
"I'll get my equipment and meet you there." Dominic's professional concern immediately overrides our personal conflict. "You don't have to come. It's going to be a long night."
"I'm a wine professional," I remind him. "This is literallywhat I'm trained for." And besides, if this is our last day together, I want to bewithhim.
We drive back to Silverleaf to grab Dominic’s specialized gear and then head to The Haven in silence, each lost in our thoughts. The emergency provides a temporary escape from confronting the deeper conflicts we've exposed.
Hours later, after helping salvage what we can of The Haven's collection, I return to Silverleaf alone—Dominic remaining behind to assist with emergency storage solutions. In the quiet of his house, I book a flight to San Francisco for tomorrow afternoon, pack my belongings, and prepare the contract documentation I'll present to Catherine.
Each action feels simultaneously right and wrong, necessary and devastating. I can't silence Mabel's words echoing in my mind:"Then you'll return to your carefully planned life and always wonder what might have been."
I'm running away—not just returning to my career but fleeing the intensity of what’s developed between us, the possibilities it represents, and the risks it entails.
The question that haunts me as dawn breaks over the mountains isn't whether I'm making the right choice in returning to San Francisco. It's whether I'm making this choice for the right reasons—out of professional commitment, or out of fear of the unknown, uncharted territory Dominic represents.
I have no answer, only the certainty that in a few hours, I'll board a plane that will carry me away from this mountain and the man who has, against all logic and expectation, claimed a piece of my heart I'm not sure I'll ever fully recover.
Chapter 22
What was oncean impenetrable barrier stranding me at Silverleaf is gone. The roads are clear, easily navigable, and nothing prevents my departure for the airport three hours away.
I gather the professional materials that represent the ostensible reason for my visit. The Silverleaf contract sits on top, signed this morning after Dominic returned from The Haven. A business success by any measure—exclusive distribution rights, favorable terms, and a prestigious addition to our portfolio. It should feel like victory.
Instead, it feels like a loss.
Merlot watches from the doorway, his soulful eyes tracking my every movement. When I zip my suitcase closed, he whines, pressing his body against my legs as if physical weight could anchor me to this place.
"I know, buddy," I murmur, kneeling to scratch behind his ears. "I'll miss you too."
I tell myself a lot of things as I carry my luggage to the rental car. That I'm making the mature choice. The professional choice. That what developed between us was intensebut ultimately unsustainable, a vacation romance best left behind before reality complicates its memory.
