CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

PEPPER

“How long have those electrical sockets not been working?” 

My head snapped over to look at him in surprise. He was far more observant than I gave him credit for. 

“How’d you know?” I demanded. 

“Pretty obvious when only one side of your kitchen is lit and your coffee maker is in the hallway bathroom,” he answered calmly, his eyes remaining on the road ahead of us. 

“A week or so. I have someone coming out to fix it,” I lied, keeping my own eyes out the passenger window. 

“I can bring one of my guys over tomorrow,” he said. “They can fix the loose floorboards too.”

Damn. It was like he had Spidey-sense for construction projects.

“I appreciate it but I’ve got it handled,” I said tersely. “I've just been busy in the last few days.”

He nodded and dropped the subject after that. 

We both knew he was pushing my boundaries, trying to see how he could leave his mark on my life even more than he already had.

His hands already worked alongside mine, tilling the earth, harvesting what it gave us and planting new growth for the next season. 

He already left a piece of himself on Sage land, but lots of people did and that was part of what made it great-- the collaborative effort between many hands from all walks of life. 

But nobody's hands touched the farm house, my home, except for the people in my family. To have him fixing the outlets and the floors would be even more personal than having him inside my body.

My grandfather installed those floors and the electricity. Dad painted everything and I helped him put on a new roof when I was a teenager. He and I were both born somewhere on those creaky floorboards.

Not any man could just come in and uproot all the history my family left in that house. I didn't know anyone else who I'd trust more than Reagan to do it, but that didn't mean he had any right to come in there with trendy, new upgrades. 

We drove on in quietness, with just satellite radio playing some relaxing electronic music. It wasn't my usual jam but I did feel like it calmed my nerves about going to this completely unfamiliar place. 

Not long after leaving Cloverville, we crossed a bridge with charming, historical buildings on either side. 

"Are we in Napa?" I asked. 

"Bingo," Reagan smiled. "Nacio's parents have a winery with a vacation house here. It's a big, open space so they're using it for their party." 

He might as well have been speaking Chinese to me. Winery? Vacation house? All four generations of my family combined probably couldn't afford those things.

Sure enough, we drove through the city until we were surrounded by vineyards on all sides. The road in front of us turned into more of a country road winding through the green hills. 

"That's them," Reagan said, nodding at a sprawling mansion up ahead on top of a hill. It was beautiful and classically designed with tall columns and sharply cut topiaries flanking the walkways. It looked unreal, like something out of a real estate magazine and made my pulse hammer with panic. I didn't know if I could step foot into that place. 

"Relax," Reagan said as if reading my mind and placed a reassuring hand on my thigh. "They're good people with humble beginnings. I'd never keep company with assholes." 

Despite myself, I placed my hand over his and laced my fingers with his. I believed him but I needed that reassurance to get through the night. Even if I would only feel more shitty when I told him it would have to end. 

A white-gloved valet took Reagan's Land Rover and together we ascended the short steps to the massive front door. Behind it, we could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and some kind of band playing. 

My fingers squeezed around Reagan's as he rang the doorbell. I felt like I was about to step through a portal to another dimension. 

The heavy door pulled open and a smiling, Hispanic man with a drink in his hand greeted us. 

"Welcome, welcome! Please come in!" he said with a musical Spanish lilt to his voice. 

"They have your ass on door duty now?" Reagan asked with a grin as he clapped arms with the man. 

"You know me, such a go-getter," the man replied. "I took on that duty myself." His dark brown eyes fell to me and regarded me with a gentle curiosity.

"Nacio, this is Pepper," Reagan said with a protective hand on the small of my back. "Pepper, this is my friend Ignacio. His parents are the ones celebrating tonight." 

"Mucho gusto y bienvenido," Ignacio said and kissed my hand with a flourish. He was just as charming as Reagan and almost as handsome. 

"Mucho gusto," I replied, feeling my cheeks warm. My Spanish was rusty at best but I picked up a little from some of the seasonal workers at the farm.

"It's so wonderful to finally meet la reina," Ignacio said, his smile never dimming. "El Rey has told me so much about you."

"Really now, Nacio?" Reagan said with just a hint of annoyance. 

Wait, he's talked about me to his friend?

I regarded both men with my head spinning. Ignacio's teasing felt harmless and good-natured, but if my brain's translations were correct, he called Reagan a king and me a queen. 

What did that mean? Some kind of figure of speech, hopefully?

"I call him El Rey because of his name," Ignacio explained to my confused expression. "With my accent, it sounds weird if I say Reagan." 

"Yeah, you make it sound like ray-gun," Reagan snorted. 

 He turned to a passing waiter and grabbed two drinks off the tray when someone across the foyer called, "Reagan Sells! Is that you?" 

"Oh shit!" Reagan waved to the middle-aged gentleman across the room before planting a kiss on my cheek and pushing a drink in my hand. "I'll be right back. Just going to say hi to an old client of mine." 

Under normal circumstances I would have been pissed at being abandoned at a party where I already felt like a fish out of water and didn't know anyone. But something about Ignacio put me at ease. I could see how he and Reagan came to be friends. 

"There is another reason why I call him El Rey," Nacio chuckled as we both watched Reagan walk off to greet his client. "He is like a king of antiquity, coming from nothing and elevating his status through sheer hard work and relentlessness." Nacio grinned at me. "But he is far too humble and always hates when I refer to him as such." 

"So you've known each other a long time?" I asked, taking a tentative sip of the drink in my hand. It had an olive in it so I figured it was a martini. 

"Since university," Nacio nodded. "We were both a couple of trouble makers back then. Me more so than him." 

"I thought he just had a real estate license?" 

Nacio shook his head. "I'm telling you, he's too damn humble. He double majored at UCSF in finance and property management. Put himself through school with scholarships and worked two jobs on campus too. And he already had a few investment properties by then."

"That's incredible," I breathed. "I had no idea he worked so hard." 

"He's like a pit bull," Nacio said in agreement. "Once he's got a taste of something he wants, he doesn't let go."

"Well, no wonder my dog likes him so much."  

I thought of how quickly Bonny took to him and smiled.

"If there is someone who deserves to be a King in this kind of business, it's him." Nacio looked at me more seriously but with a playfulness in his eyes. "Y tu eres la reina de su corazón."

And you are the queen of his heart.

My heart jumped into my throat. My skin screamed for Reagan's touch as waves of emotions rolled over me. 

I glanced across the room to look at him, watching his mouth move from his side profile as he talked with his client. His body shifted a little and he glanced over toward me, an apology in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to get away and return to my side. 

Or was I just projecting what I wanted more than anything? 

Ignacio seemed oblivious to the war going on between my brain, body and heart. He took me by the elbow gently, snapping me out of my Reagan-induced trance. 

"While he's over there schmoozing, would you like to meet the people who forced me to roommate with that over-achiever?"

He smiled through his warm, dark eyes and his tone was light and teasing. Something about him just seemed to put me at ease. 

"Sure," I smiled back. "I'd love to." 

He led me through the throng of people until Reagan was no longer in my view. That made me a bit nervous at first until we stood in front of a middle-aged couple with warm eyes and smiles just like Ignacio's. 

"Pepper, I'd like you to meet my parents," he began. To them he said, "This is El Rey's date, Pepper Sage." 

"It's lovely to meet you," I said as I extended my hand, grateful that he didn't say anything more committed than date. "Congratulations on your anniversary." 

"Thank you for coming!" Ignacio's mother, Elisa, said clasping my hand in hers. The warmth and kindness exuded from her like a mug of hot chocolate. "We're grateful to have so many people celebrating our forty years of marriage with us." 

Forty years! 

I couldn't help from raising my eyebrows. They looked to be in their late forties at the oldest. 

Ignacio's father Filipe, let out a booming laugh at my reaction. 

"Love keeps you young, Pepper," he said with a wink at me. "That really is all you need." 

He reminded me of Dad a bit. In a more cheerful, less hardass, kind of way. 

"I'll remember that." 

My mind drifted to Reagan again before pushing the thought away. What we had was explosive, intangible and unlike anything I felt before. But it wasn't love. It couldn't be.

"So what do you do, Pepper?" Elisa asked me. 

"I, uhm."

I cleared my throat and tried to stand up as straight and proudly as possible. If these people would judge me for the kind of work I did, they weren't worth my time.

Or so I tried to tell myself as I willed my hands to not shake and drop my glass.  

"I'm a farmer. I live and work in Cloverville."

"Ah, we love Cloverville!" Felipe gushed enthusiastically. "Don't tell anyone here, but not even Napa beats their organic produce. I can't decide if I like Cloverville cherries or apples more."

"That's from me!" I squeaked. "I run Sage Organic Farm."

"You're kidding!" Elisa exclaimed. "We love your produce! We make a trip every weekend down to Leonard's just to stock up." 

"Really?" My voice was lost and the pride I sought to find a minute ago now overwhelmed me. "That's so wonderful, thank you!" 

"Thank you for doing what you do," Felipe said. "It's tough work being a farmer. We both come from farming families in Argentina."

"Yes," Elisa agreed. "We came here with just the clothes on our backs to give our son a better life." She beamed at her husband. "Seems like it all turned out okay, didn't it?" 

"Si, but if only Nacio would stop running around and settle down with a nice girl," Felipe said with an eye roll and a wink at me. "Maybe he'll learn something from Pepper and Reagan here, no?"

I giggled politely as I sipped my drink and looked around for Ignacio’s response. Sure enough, he left our conversation to chat up an attractive blonde a few feet away. Standing directly behind her was a woman who looked somewhat familiar. I craned my neck a little to see better. Perhaps she was another customer at the farmer’s market and I’d have more people to talk to at this party. 

But as she turned slightly and I got a clearer look at her face, my whole world turned upside down.

My hand shook so hard that my drink spilled over the edge. I didn’t know if I would throw up or faint. My voice only had the strength to squeak out a one-worded question. 

“Mom?”