"Okay," I tell him. "I missed you too."
An arm wraps around my waist from behind and lifts me off the ground, the ducks scattering with indignant squawks. Charlie spins me once before setting me down, and his mouth finds mine before I've fully registered what's happening.
He smells like horses and sweat and summer heat. I love it.
"Hey, Sunshine." His voice is low, right against my ear, and the rumble of it travels down my spine.
"I'm torn between kissing you again and hosing you down," I tell him.
"I vote for kissing."
I draw back to get a look at him. His face is brown from the sun and tired at the edges and his hat is pushed back. He is, without question, the best thing I’ve ever seen.
"Long day?" I ask.
"Yeah, but a good one." He brushes a strand of hair from my face. "Come on. Gran's waiting."
Gran is on the front porch when we get there, the rocker positioned to face the driveway, sweet tea already poured into three glasses.
"Sunny, my dear." She rises and takes both my hands in hers, studying my face with shrewd, affectionate attention. "You look tired. Have a seat. Charles, you smell like the barn. Why don’t you clean up while Sunny and I chat?"
Charlie gives a wry smile, squeezes my hand before letting it go, and heads into the house shaking his head.
I settle into the chair beside her and accept the tea. "Thank you for the dinner invitation. I've been looking forward to it all day."
"Good." She smooths her skirt. "Now. Tell me about your adventure. Charles gave me the broad strokes, but he has a maddening habit of leaving out the interesting parts."
I give her the abbreviated version, with enough detail that she follows the emotional arc without me dwelling on the parts that would make her want to drive to California and handle Derek herself. She listens without interrupting.
"And Evan?" she asks when I finish.
"He's going to find another buyer. Someone who deserves the winery."
Gran nods, satisfied, and rocks once. "Good man. I suspected he was, from the way Charlie spoke about him." She tips her head toward the house. "The unpleasant young man with the suit?—"
"Derek."
"Mm." Her pursed lips convey, without a single additional word, everything she thinks about Derek Parker. "I hope Charles was sufficiently persuasive."
"He was." I take a sip of tea and let a beat pass. "He was very efficient about it."
Gran's eyes sharpen. "Efficient?"
"Charlie put him on the ground in under a second. It was very impressive."
Gran's smile is pure satisfaction. She picks up her tea and says nothing further, which speaks volumes. We rock in silence for a few minutes, sipping our tea and watching the early evening light turn the land to molten gold and pools of shadow.
The screen door opens, and Charlie fills the frame in clean jeans and a dark blue shirt. He crosses the porch, bends down, and presses a kiss to my mouth that is significantly more than a greeting.
"Charles." Gran doesn't look up from her tea. "You're blocking the evening light."
He straightens with a grin and grabs his tea, drinking it in gulps. Then he drops into the chair on my other side, reaching over to take my hand. The gesture is automatic, as is the way I thread my fingers through his.
Oscar appears at the door to announce dinner, and we follow Gran inside. The table is set for three, with the casual china, white and simple, and a single vase of wildflowers from the front flower bed.
Over dinner, Charlie walks Gran through the stock show. Gran asks pointed questions about bloodlines and pricing. Charlie answers each one without missing a beat. Watching the two of them together, Gran sharp as a tack, Charlie holding his own, makes me smile.
Gran sets her fork down and turns to me. "Sunny, have you spoken with your mother about my invitation? I want Marilyn out for a proper visit."
