One week later, Caterina took in the massive crowds scattered over the grounds and grinned with satisfaction. Lively music drifted in the air, and the picnic tables were filled with families and couples eating and drinking wine. The day was hot and bright, and the last bus tour was scheduled to leave within the hour. Hopefully, things would begin calming down.
Her gaze sought out Rip, who’d been working nonstop since six a.m. He stood framed in the entrance of the barn talking to Sal, a fierce frown on his face. Dressed in dark washed jeans and a button-down white shirt, he exuded the confidence of a leader and a quiet intensity that showed his work ethic. For the past week, she’d studied the spreadsheets to learn about the new pricing system, met and cemented relationships with all the employees, and re-learned the workings of the winery under Rip’s leadership. Every day brought a new challenge, and she was surprised at how much she loved waking up in the morning, a sharp focus energizing her.
The door stayed closed between their bedrooms, but her heart was beginning to open with every encounter.
He was endlessly patient and generous with his time, making sure to show her every change he’d instituted and listen to feedback. But it was more than that. It was the light in his dark eyes when he looked at her. The gentle sweep of his fingers over the curve of her cheek. The deep laughter he let loose in her company. Once again he’d become the man she’d known in Italy, opening himself up to her with a relaxed ease that urged her to do the same. Sure, the sexual chemistry danced and burned between them continually. But it was the bond of friendship they’d begun to form in the past few days that held her heart captive.
Shaking off her thoughts, she walked over to him. “What’s the matter?”
“I booked a three p.m. tasting for Sal with an important client. Do you remember the Wallaces?”
She frowned. “They own Riptide Vineyards in Westchester, right? Do we still bottle their Merlot?”
Rip nodded. “Yes. Their orders have doubled in the last six months. Bob has been wanting to come out for a visit. He decided to bring his family over today and I have everything set up. We have the pairings ready, extra baskets of cheese and fruit, and a batch of the chocolate truffles. He just neglected to mention one important thing.”
“What’s that?”
Rip let out a groan. “That he was bringing a dozen of their nieces and nephews and none of them are old enough to drink.”
Caterina spotted the giant swarm moving toward them and sucked in her breath.
Holy crap.
The adults looked as if they were going to a high society tea party. The men were dressed in khaki twill shorts and freshly ironed shirts, and many sported fedoras. The women were a vision in white: white linen shorts, white silk tops, white sandals, and white hats. They approached in a beautiful vision of glamour Cat could only admire.
Until the line broke.
A bunch of children charged from behind and ran down the hill, shrieking at the top of their lungs. They were all different sizes and shapes, but they all charged with the spirited determination of youth. Two tumbled to the ground and rolled, regardless of the crowds in front of them or the weak disciplinary cries from the adults. These children would not sit quietly at the table and wait for their parents to drink their wine. These children would need focus and attention.
These children would need a serious distraction.
Cat shared a glance with Rip. “We have apple cider and soda tastings to offer,” she said with a touch of desperation.
“That will hold them for five minutes. We need a plan.”
“Okay, you get them set up at the table while I raid the shed. There are some balls, frisbees, and old toys in there.”
She turned but his hand shot out and grasped her upper arm. “Please hurry. I’m not—I’m not good with kids. At all.”
Cat nodded. “Be back in five.”
She raced away as fast as her Prada sandals could go.
* * * *
Rip stared in horror at the group of children before him.
He’d faced down his abusive father, taken a brutal beating by some local bullies who’d jumped him, and pitted his negotiating skills against the best CEOs in the state.
None of that had terrified him like eight children waiting to be entertained.
After he’d gotten Bob, his wife Tracey, and their extended family set up with Sal, he’d taken the children to a separate area in the back corner of the tasting room. It had taken them approximately five minutes to gobble down the extensive collection of snacks, cider, and soda he’d offered them.
Of course, he’d told Bob and Tracey not to worry, that he’d keep an eye on the kids so they could enjoy themselves. Naked joy sprung to all the parents’ eyes when they found out they’d scored a babysitter on a Saturday afternoon so they could drink wine.
What the hell had he been thinking? And where was Caterina?
“This place is boring!” the chubby blond boy with the spiked hair commented.
“We can play tag,” one of the little girls suggested. She was dressed in white denim shorts with a floral T-shirt that declared Princess on it. She had blue lips, and her hands were covered with blue marker.
“Do you have Xbox or Wii U?” asked another dark-haired boy with a Spiderman T-shirt on.
“Or a TV so we can watch Sofia the First?” a little girl asked softly, her big brown eyes wide and innocent. She was dressed in a yellow Beauty and the Beast gown with a hole in the skirt. Dirt smeared her plump arms. “Or Beauty and the Beast? Belle is my favorite. Who’s yours?”
He knew one, thank God. “Cinderella.”
Her eyes lit up. “Good choice!”
“Thank you.”
“I want to go home,” the first boy announced, his brows slamming together like a little old man. “I want my mom and my 3DS.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” another boy said.
“Hey, let’s go pee in those tree things,” the other boy yelled, pointing his finger at the window.
“No, I’ll show you the bathrooms! We don’t pee in the vines.”
The Belle girl sighed. “They like to pee everywhere,” she said solemnly. “Girls can’t do that ’cause we have vaginas. It’s not fair. Hey, will you have a tea party with me, Mister?”
“Yes, you can be the queen because boys can do girl stuff and girls can do boy stuff,” the other little girl said with importance. She had pigtails, crooked teeth, and wore a T-shirt with a sparkly cat on it.
“Can I borrow your phone to play Angry Birds?” another boy asked.
Rip wasn’t sure, but he thought a whimper escaped his lips.
Suddenly, like an angel swooping down, Caterina arrived, carrying a large box with different stuff poking from the top. The kids immediately stilled, surrounding her like she was a female Santa.
“Okay, everybody,” she announced. “We’re going to play outside. We’ll start with Capture the Flag and break up into two teams. Girls against boys. Prizes will be toys from the box.”
“Is that Star Wars?” one of the boys yelled.
“Maybe,” she sang, blue eyes twinkling. “First, Capture the Flag. Then we’ll empty the box and play.”
“Cool,” the dark-haired boy said.
“Yay!” the girls shrieked.
Rip tossed her a grateful look, and she winked back. They headed outside the barn to the far corner of the vineyard, and she chattered nonstop with the children about endless silly subjects they seemed to enjoy. Rip trudged behind her, grateful to give her the lead, and thinking about what a wonderful mother she’d make one day.
His chest tightened with a strange emotion.
Almost like longing.
Longing for something he’d never wanted with any other woman.
* * * *
An hour later, after several rousing games of Capture the Flag, a few Simon Says, an epic Hide-and-Go-Seek game, and more snacks, Rip finally collapsed under a tree. The kids were busy with pitchers of lemonade and cider, and plates of cookies laid out on the picnic table.
He was enjoying his lemonade and a few minutes of rest, when the youngest girl, Emma, floated over to him. She had blond flyaway hair as fine as silk, along with wide brown eyes. “Can we play tea party now?” she asked sweetly, reaching out to tug his hand.
He blinked. “You don’t want to play with the toys?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. You’re the queen. What do you want your name to be?” she asked.
“Umm, Charlie?”
She giggled and shook her head harder. “No! It has to be a girl’s name!”
“Oh, okay, how about Sophia?”
She gasped. “Just like Sophia the First!” she squealed. “Stay there. I’ll get your crown and the tea stuff.”
Rip watched Caterina swoop a Stormtrooper into a full-on battle with Luke Skywalker and his band of rebels. The boys were all gathered around her, bashing toy figures and making cool noises. Slowly, the other three girls drifted over to him. “Whatcha doing?” asked the nine-year-old in the princess shirt. He’d finally learned her name was Amber, and she’d proudly recited her age many times since she was the oldest.
He refused to allow his cheeks to heat up. “Having a tea party with Emma.”
“Cool, I’ll help.” Amber sat down with her sisters, Ellen and Sharon, and stared at him. He shifted his weight and swallowed. They kept staring. He cleared his throat.
Emma came running back. “I have your crown!” she announced, her hands full of grass, yellow flowery weeds, and some pussy willows. “Queen Sophia, how do you take your tea?”
He tried to speak in a manly voice. “Just straight.”
She’d picked up a bunch of plastic cups and the last of the cookies. Settling down in the circle, the girls all surrounded him, doling out cups, pieces of cookies, and trying to construct a crown.
“Queen Sophia!” Emma announced. “It’s time you crown us your royal subjects and give us our titles.”
“I want a good one,” Amber said.
“But first you need to wear your crown,” Ellen chirped. “Lower your head.”
He glanced at his wrist watch and realized he wouldn’t be saved for another half hour. Then he bent his head to accept the tangle of weeds and brush that barely formed a circle. Immediately, his head itched and he wondered about tics or crawly bugs going into his ears. When he faced them once again, all their faces were filled with joy and wonder, as if he’d literally transformed into a queen in front of their eyes. A strange emotion coursed through him, and he wondered what it would have been like to believe in magic as a child, to be cared for and loved and protected, to feel free to be silly and adventurous and believe in his imagination.
He wondered how it would feel to be safe with someone you loved.
“You are now queen of the trees and the land before us,” Emma said softly.
“How may we serve you?” Ellen asked.
He stared at the girls, who waited for his answer.
Oh, what the hell.
He looked over and grabbed a stick from the ground. “First, I must properly knight each one of my loyal subjects,” he said seriously. “Princess Emma, I crown you the animal whisperer. You may now communicate with all the animals in the land.” He touched both of her shoulders with the stick, and her gasp made him bite back a smile.
“Princess Amber, I knight you Protector of the Light. No darkness or shadow shall reign in your presence.”
“Cool,” Amber murmured.
He went down the line, knighting each of the girls. After they each had their special jobs, they indulged in tea and cookies, chattering about the ways to protect their land without war or guns or as Emma termed it—mean stuff.
He didn’t notice the shadow falling over them until he looked up and met a pair of whiskey eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice husky.
“Playing,” he said simply.
It was then he realized he could lose himself in her gaze—a treasure chest of pure golden light that would fight off all the shadows.
He could find himself in her gaze.
“It’s time to go. I just got a text from Sal the tasting is over.”
“Okay.” He raised the stick high in the air and faced his subjects. “Queen Sophia officially calls this tea party and strategy planning to an end. Do not forget to be loyal and brave subjects to save our world. We are counting on you.”
He carefully took off the crown and rose to his feet. Emma grabbed one hand and Amber grabbed the other, and he listened to their easy chatter back to the tasting barn.