Page 51 of Taken With You
He wasn’t…was he talking about the winery?
“That’s why, less than an hour after I met her, I offered her a partnership.” He held out his open hand, beckoning her. “And to my great relief, Amanda stayed.”
Tears blurred her vision. She held Garrick’s gaze, knowing her heart lay bare in her eyes. Amid the applause, she floated toward him, convinced with more certainty than ever that this was the man she loved.
Body. Heart. Soul.
She stopped right in front of him, in full view of colleagues and industry professionals. She smiled from the very center of herself. She wouldn’t give away their secret, not now. He’d made a grand gesture by showing her respect and she determined to preserve it with gratitude. But tonight, after everyone was gone, when they were finally alone…she would tell him that she loved him. She would confess what being with him had taught her.
Love had always been at the root of her dreams.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Once, a few months after Dominic died, Garrick had hired a pilot to fly him high over open countryside in a small biplane. Garrick had strapped a parachute on his back and jumped out at fourteen thousand feet. His ears had roared, and his insides had tumbled during the free fall. The wind had rushed out of his lungs. Now, standing in front of a room full of people, speaking his heart as plainly as he dared to the woman he loved, he felt the same way except for one small detail. In the jump, he had a parachute to save him. This time, he risked all.
Amanda raised her cheek for the brush of a kiss. He pressed his lips against her skin in a way the crowd couldn’t see, making sure it looked as proper as it should be. Except that her fingers gripped his sleeve. Her shoulders trembled as they brushed his chest. She pulled back to meet his gaze. He blinked to clear his vision, to make sure he wasn’t just seeing his own hopes in her eyes.
Around them came the roar of the applause, the creak of chairs as people stood up. She dipped her head and turned toward that acclaim, sliding her hand out of his to pat her chest in gratitude. Right. They were in public. Now wasn’t the time for him to sink to one knee, though the urge was strong. This was her moment.
He handed her the mic.
Amanda spoke in a voice made husky by emotion. It gained strength as she expressed her gratitude to the guests, to her former mentors at Windsor, and to him for taking a chance on her—throwing a torch of a glance his way, leaving him singed. At the signal from her slim hand, the waiters holding Mr. Brunichelli’s last vintage stepped to the tables to pour a glass for each guest. Amanda transitioned into her master vintner’s voice, talking of Mr. Brunichelli’s final masterpiece, talking of bouquets and body and robustness, talking of legacies. Garrick shifted his attention to the room, watching the dominos fall, those who’d seen her only as a beautiful blonde in an elegant red dress shifting their focus and the train of their thoughts, listening with respectful intent.
Shelley caught his eye. Raising a brow, the tough-talking New York City publicist gave him a silent, congratulatory nod.
Amanda finished her remarks to more applause. A line of waiters emerged, carrying trays. Amanda turned to him, the mic pressed against her heart. He took a step toward her, but Shelley stepped between them and shot a silent warning. He leashed the urge to pull Amanda into an embrace right in front of everyone. Shelley turned back to Amanda, took the mic out of her hand, and nudged his partner toward the tables to circulate.
“You,” Shelley said, approaching him, “eat dinner while you can. As soon as Amanda has finished a circuit, you’ll take her place.”
Back to business.
He experienced the rest of the evening like two men living inside one skin. The half of him that was a winery owner dutifully ate his dinner of asparagus in hollandaise sauce, wild rice, and slivers of roast duck. He chatted with his family and then rose from his seat after Amanda returned, to take her place circulating among the guests. Everyone was delighted by the tribute to Mr. Brunichelli, glad Cedar Ridge had found the right owner, newly impressed by his choice of master vintner. The business half of him made the right responses, gently joked and laughed at others’ jokes, dodged Logan’s and Dylan’s curious gazes with a promise of a longer discussion tomorrow, and then moved to the next table with practiced ease.
But the other man living inside his skin—Amanda’s partner, Amanda’s lover—that man strained for a glimpse of her. That lover watched as Amanda bent her lovely neck to chat with her friend Maggie. That man counted the minutes through dinner, and then dessert and coffee, and then a final toast of port, moving everyone out of the tent and under the winking stars. His anticipation rose ever higher as, one by one, the guests called for their cars, said goodbye, and drove down the winding road lit by golden lanterns. Once the last guest was gone, the impatient lover wriggled out of the leash. He strode into the cabin’s living room to find his family lounging about, but he saw no sign of a blond head or a slim red dress.
He barked, “Where’s Amanda?”
The chatter stopped. Every head turned toward him. He ran his statement through his mind and heard the tone of his own voice. Hell. He might as well have painted a sign on his chest that saidI’m in love with my partner.
He didn’t give a damn.
It was true.
Dad leaned forward in his chair, and the edges of his eyes crinkled. “She was at the tent until the last guest headed out, son.”
Right. She’d stayed behind to host the lingerers, while he’d manned the driveway for the final send-offs.
His mother chimed in, “Didn’t she say something about checking the winery, Luke?”
“Yeah.” Luke shot him a wink where he stood by the bay window. “You better check, Garrick. Business calls.”
Garrick swiveled on one foot and headed back down the hall, ignoring the low voices that followed him. Let his family speculate. At breakfast tomorrow, he’d either be drowning his sorrows in their presence, or introducing Amanda to them as much more than a business partner.
He stepped out into the cool night. The caterers had pulled a truck in front of the cabin and were busy loading tables and linens and bins of dirty dishes and silverware. He crossed to the stair-step path that led down to the winery, still lit with tiny, twinkling lights. Fog bled over the ridge behind him. Stars winked, and a hush blanketed the hillside. Nearing the winery terrace, he glimpsed a light in the window. She was waiting for him.
He quickened his steps, his heart pounding as he swung the door open. She stood in a pool of light, her chin raised as she perused the place like a queen surveying her kingdom. She still wore that sweet red dress as she swirled a glass of ruby wine.
She said, “I knew you’d find me.”
