Page 9 of All This Time
“Hey, you made it!” Rhonan pulls me into a hug as soon as I enter the tasting room of Hart Winery, kissing the top of my head.
“Did you think I wouldn’t? That would make me a shitty maid of honor.”
He grins as he hands me a glass of sparkling wine, one of the signature wines that made my parents’ winery famous. Leaning in close, he whispers, “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, though.”
“Be nice,” I fire back. “We’re trying to be supportive friends, remember?”
“If I were being truly supportive, I’d tell him he’s rushing into this too fast.”
I raise a brow. “I’m pretty sure you proposed to Sarah less than a year after you started dating.”
My brother tenses up at the mention of his late wife. “True, but Sarah fit into our family and friends seamlessly, like she was always meant to be there. Tori is…different,” he says, even though I’m sure he had another word in mind.
“Well, maybe if you didn’t scowl at her every time she came around, she would be more relaxed around you.”
His brows draw together even further. “I don’t scowl.”
I snort. “Yeah. Okay.” I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of my older brother under the definition of the wordgrumpy, but in his defense, when life robs you of your wife, leaving you to raise your daughter alone, grumpiness is understandable.
“I miss her,” he says as his eyes find Ellis, my niece, across the room.
“Me too. She was the type of person that lit up a room when she walked in—just like Mom.”
Bringing up our mother makes my heart twist in my chest too.
Being here never fails to remind me of my mother’s dream, my parents’ hard work, and the legacy they built that is now a staple in Blossom Peak, drawing even more tourists to our town.
The walls of the main building on the vineyard are all made of taupe stone mixed with brick to give the space a rustic feel, transporting visitors to Italy, and the entire back wall of the tasting room we’re standing in is lined with old oak barrels from floor to ceiling, embossed with the Hart Winery logo. Ivy vines climb the outside of the winery, and inside there are live plants scattered throughout. The smell of grapes and oak fills the room, and each time I step in here, memories slam into me from my childhood, running around while my mother and father worked until I was old enough to learn about winemaking and taste the fruits of their labor myself.
But after our mother died unexpectedly, and Rhonan joined the Marines, I felt the responsibility to make sure my dad knew he wasn’t alone as he fought to keep the winery running. Those were some trying years. Sacrifices had to be made, including whatmyfuture was going to look like, but I would gladly make the same choices now that I did back then.
“Hi, sweetheart.” My father comes up behind me wearing the signature burgundy polo that all our staff wear, interrupting ourconversation. His lips meet my temple. “I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”
“It’s been three days, Dad.”
His grin spreads. “That’s too long.”
“Well, I have a business to run and a wedding to help plan, so…” My eyes drift over to Tori standing in the corner of the room, typing on her phone, confirming Rhonan’s observation that she doesn’t quite fit in. I get that her work as a talent manager’s assistant is demanding, but she could at least try to include herself in conversations.
“Yes, well, let Anabelle know if you need anything,” my father says, referring to the wedding planner for the winery.
“I will. Thanks, Dad.”
“And maybe come over for dinner one night so I can get some Laney time.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head on his shoulder. “That sounds perfect.”
My father releases me just as Elliot comes striding up to me and my brother, his smile blinding.
“Laney!” Elliot pulls me into a side hug as he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Tori told me she stopped by the salon yesterday and you calmed her down by offering to help with the wedding prep. Thank you.”
With his arm around my shoulders, he leads me deeper into the room as I spot Henley and one of the employees talking to my right, Dilynne flirting with Thomas, the employee behind the bar, and Ellis and her nanny, Joanne, at a table playing Candy Land. A few more customers are sprinkled throughout the room, enjoying their tasting flights on this Friday evening.
My smile feels forced. “It was nothing. She seemed overwhelmed.”
Elliot gestures for me to take a seat with him at the bar made from old oak barrels. “She is, but I think it’s more because she has to travel between here and Nashville a lot these next few weeks for work when all the wedding details have to be finalized. At least she’s getting time off for our honeymoon in Aruba.” He grins suggestively behind the rim of his glass.
“I’m happy to help.”
