4
SNAPPER
Ialmost took the words back; that was how hard the look on her face hit me. Whatever the fuck was going on with her was bad. Except nothing I imagined made any sense.
“I’ll grant your favor,” I said again. “But we’re gonna do it my way.”
She clutched her great-grandmother’s journal tighter against her chest. “What do you mean?”
“This isn’t a decision I can make alone. You’re asking for a ton and a quarter of Los Caballeros grapes, our winery space, our equipment, and a crew. That involves my brothers—especially Cru, since he manages the vineyards. I need to talk to them first. Get their buy-in.”
“Of course,” she murmured, but her face had paled.
God, I wished she’d just talk to me about what made her react that way. For now, though, I’d let it go. Later, once I knew if what she was asking could even be done, I’d press the issue.
“I’ll see if he and Daphne are available now, then get back to you.”
“Understood.”
When her eyes filled with tears, I reached across the table and took her hand. “I’ll do everything I can to make this happen. I promise.”
She tried to pull her hand away. I squeezed her fingers. “Know this, Saffron; this matters to you, which means it matters to me too.”
“Thank you,” she said so quietly I had to strain to hear her.
When she squeezed my fingers back, an inexplicable sense of relief overcame me, and with it, another feeling I’d been pushing down for far too long. It was time I let it rise to the surface and did something about it. While I admitted that she mattered to me—in a roundabout way at least—the truth was, the way I felt about her went far deeper. I wanted Saffron in my life and not just as a friend or a hookup. I wanted more. Ahelluvalot more, and if we were going to spend the next six to eight weeks working side by side, maybe she’d see me as more too. More than the guy she bid on every year to save him from Isabel’s clutches. Maybe as a man she could be interested in.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
You. How I’m ready to go all in—not that I could say any of that.
“Everything I need to do today. Who I need to talk to.”
While she indicated she agreed, I saw the skepticism in her expression. She always called me out on my shit. Except now, she wouldn’t. And dammit if I wasn’t more than happy to take advantage of it.
The thought should’ve felt wrong. She was asking for help, not hitting on me. But I’d been half in love with this woman since we were teenagers, and I was tired of keeping my distance because I thought she wasn’t interested. If she needed me, I’d be there. And if spending every day together gave me a shot at showing her how I felt? I’d take it.
I stood and took my wallet out, leaving enough cash on the table to cover our meal three times over. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” She sounded uncertain.
“Hey.” I waited until she looked up at me. “We’ll make this work. If it isn’t with our grapes, with someone else’s.”
The ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I hope you’re right.”
We walked out to the parking lot where my truck sat next to her beat-up Ford.
Every instinct screamed at me to pull her into my arms, to promise her everything would be okay, to kiss away the worry lines etched between her brows. But I couldn’t. Not yet.
“Drive safe,” I said instead.
She climbed into her vehicle and I stood there, watching until her taillights disappeared around the curve, then got into my own SUV and headed for Los Cab.
When I arrivedat the main house, my mother’s car was in the driveway, along with Cru’s truck. Since he and Daphne lived a few minutes’ walk from the main house, my guess was Ma had a honey-do list for him, and that’s why he’d driven over.
I was headed toward the porch steps when I heard another vehicle approaching. I looked over and saw Bit pull in. While Sunday was family dinner day, people didn’t usually start showing up until late afternoon.
“How’s it going?” I asked when he climbed out.
