“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Does she know that?” His eyes met mine. “Or does she just know you as the guy who’s gone most of the year chasing rodeo championships? The guy who’s never settled down, never committed to anything but the next ride?”
His words hit hard, but that was Bit, I reminded myself. He told it like he saw it. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” His tone was gentle. “You’ve been running from this place, from the family business, from putting down roots, for years. She has no reason to believe you’d stay.”
“But I would.”
“Then, prove it.” He put his hand on my shoulder again. “Keep showing up. Keep helping. Don’t push for more than she can give right now.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“I told you before. I’d do everything humanly possible for the woman I love. In fact, I did. You should too.”
6
SAFFRON
Imade it halfway home before the tears started.
What the hell was wrong with me? Snapper had been about to—what? Kiss me? Tell me something important? And I’d run like a scared rabbit.
The steering wheel was slick under my palms as I gripped it tighter, trying to focus on the dark road ahead instead of the memory of standing so close to him in the caves. The way his eyes had searched mine. The warmth of his body so close to mine. That moment when everything had hung, suspended between us.
“We’re partners, remember?” he’d said.
“Is that what we are?” I’d whispered back.
Then he’d stepped closer, reached for me, and I’d panicked.
By the timeI drove through our front gate, my hands were shaking. The house loomed dark and empty with my parents gone.
I climbed out of my truck and stood in the cool evening air, staring up at the winery buildings silhouetted against the darkening sky.
And I’d just run away from the one person willing to help us. Help me.
Inside, the house was eerily still. I kicked off my shoes, dropped my purse on the counter, and stood in the kitchen, trying to figure out what to do next. Call him? Apologize? Explain?
Explain what? That I was terrified? That every time he got close, I wanted him so badly I could barely breathe? That I’d been in love with him for so long I didn’t know how not to be?
Yeah, that would go over well.
I was pulling a bottle of wine from the rack—screw it, I needed a drink—when headlights swept across the kitchen window.
My heart leaped. Snapper. He’d followed me home to?—
But when I looked out, I saw a sleek Mercedes, not Snapper’s truck.
Jesus. It was Isabel Van Orr. What the hell was she doing here?
I set the wine bottle down and went to the door, opening it before she could knock.
“This is unexpected.”
She stood on my porch in designer jeans and cashmere, her blonde hair perfect even at this hour, diamonds glinting at her ears and throat, and as usual, her smile was ice cold.
“I hope I’m not intruding. I was hoping we could talk. You know, woman to woman.”
