Page 56 of An Inconvenient Marriage
Just then, the old man reached us. He had the biggest smile on his wrinkled face. Grabbing Zach’s free hand, he shook it furiously while a string of rapid Spanish words spilled from his mouth.
Zach said something back in Spanish, then put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. “Mi esposa.”
The older man turned his smile on me, and I swear it grew even wider.
“Ah, Natalie, so wonderful to meet you.” His accent was thick, but it didn’t take away from how good his English was. Still smiling, he held out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, too.” I took his hand, but instead of shaking mine like he’d done with Zach, Ernesto brought it to his lips.
He’d barely touched my skin when Zach said a few harsh words in Spanish. The older man dropped my hand and laughed heartily.
“Come, come,” Ernesto said. “I sent the staff home as you asked, you’ll have the place to yourself.”
I leaned closer to Zach. “What’s he talking about?”
“You’ll see.”
That was all I got out of him for the next ten minutes as we trailed behind Ernesto toward a nondescript building. From the outside it looked like a simple barn, but the moment we went inside, my jaw dropped to the floor. We’d stepped into a wine bar that would fit right in with any of the upscale ones in New York.
And there was absolutely nothing simple about the place. Although the part of the building where we stood had tall wooden walls, the opposite side was made up of glass from floor to ceiling. It was quite stunning because it didn’t matter where you were in the bar, you’d still have a panoramic view of the vineyard and the mountains in the distance.
If that was all the inside had going for it, it would have been enough. But it wasn’t. Deep oak-colored tables were scattered about with privacy and comfort in mind, rather than how many people they could squeeze in at the same time.
“Wow.” I turned in a slow circle, eagerly taking in everything around me from the fairy lights hanging from the beams in soft delicate strings to the two decorated walls opposite each other.
The one to my left had abstract paintings in different colors and sizes, but it was the one to my right that drew my attention. It was hard to make out exactly what was on it, so I moved closer.
I couldn’t keep the smile off my face when I saw the wall covered in black-and-white photos with one large colored print in the middle. My eyes traveled from picture to picture. The black-and-white ones were of the vineyard and the employees. There were even a few that seemed as if they’d been taken while the vineyard was being restored.
They were all lovely, but it was the large colored print that stole my attention. Zach and Javier were standing on the outside of the wine bar with an arm over each other’s shoulders and their heads thrown back in laughter.
I never knew you could feel someone’s happiness just by looking at a photo until that very moment. There was nothing forced, nothing manufactured about it. Just happiness in its purest form.
“That’s a good one,” Ernesto’s voice came from somewhere behind me.
Turning around, I was surprised and a little disappointed to see Ernesto was alone. “Where’s Zach?”
“He had to take a call. He said he’d be right back.” His gaze drifted to the photos on the wall. “They are the same, but at the same time, so different.” Ernesto moved past me to study the images up close.
When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, like someone lost in a memory. “Javier had no problem letting go, but Zach… He keeps his hurt with him because he thinks it’s his burden to carry.”
He’d spoken so softly, I knew those words weren’t meant for me, but I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t heard them. And as much as I hated pulling Ernesto away from the memory, I was too desperate to learn more about Zach not to.
“What burden?”
Turning to face me, he blinked rapidly, then shook his head. “If he has not told you about it, it’s not my place.”
I nodded but couldn’t shake his words. My gaze drifted back to the man in the photo laughing so heartily. Could it be that we had more in common with each other than we realized? Did we both go through the days pretending everything was fine when we were really hurting inside?
The more his words rolled through my head, the more questions I had.
Stupidly, I’d thought I’d had Zach just about figured out. I didn’t know crap. He’d asked me who I really was, but I could turn that question right back on him.
“Patience is key.” Ernesto’s voice broke through my scrambled thoughts. “Love is a foreign language to him. He’s still learning. But for the most part, his heart is in the right place, I promise you.”
How was I supposed to respond to that? And why did his words make me jealous of the woman who would get to experience Zach’s love? Sure, I had a very unusual craving for his hands and mouth to be all over me, but that didn’t mean I had feelings for him.
Did it?
