Page 26 of The Sweetness of Life

“I want to show you something . . .” My voice trails off as I almost regret asking, but the invite is out there now. “Were you wanting to head to the cottage after this or are you good to go for a ride?”

She glances at Michelle, and the two of them trade a look of surprise and curiosity. “A ride sounds fun.” Her voice is cautious, so I give her a reassuring smile. This girl never backs down from a challenge.

Reaching over the bar, I grab the bottle of sauvignon blanc and two glasses. I can feel Kyle and Michelle looking at me suspiciously, and for some reason I suddenly feel guilty. I shouldn’t. They know what the plan is, and it’s not as if I’m trying to get under her dress; I just think she’ll like where I want to take her.

She follows close behind as I lead her out of the manor, the soft click of her heels on the floor keeping time with the muted thud of my work boots. I head toward the golf carts and pack the bottle and glasses in a bag that’s hooked on the back of the closest one. She climbs into the passenger side and tucks the sides of her skirt under her legs.

The air is cool tonight, but not cold. The humidity has held off, and I think I’m going to time this perfectly. Five minutes later, we pull up to the cave. Again, Shelby follows me as I start walking up the dirt path in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” she calls out from behind me.

“You’ll see.” I smile to myself, eager to see her reaction.

The path isn’t too long, maybe a tenth of a mile or so, but it is uphill, and it suddenly occurs to me that she isn’t wearing the best shoes for this.

“Are you doing okay?” I turn around and point to her shoes just as she wobbles. Reaching out, I grab her hand to steady her, and she smiles at me in appreciation.

Damn smile. I’m not supposed to like it—or her, either.

“I am, but I think I’ll take them off. I don’t want the heels to get ruined.” She doesn’t let go of my hand as she slips her shoes from her feet and then dangles them loosely from her fingertips. She shrinks a good four inches, and now I feel like I’m towering over her.

“All right, let’s go. It looks like the sun is going to set soon, and I want to see what it is you’re trying to show me,” she says, pulling on my hand. Leave it to this girl to hike up a hill barefoot in a dress. I shake my head at her and at myself for finding her charming.

Side by side, we finish the trail and step out onto a rock overhang that gives us a spectacular view of the winery as well as a few others. I’m still holding her hand, and she’s still holding mine. I don’t know why; I just know I’m not ready to let it go.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful.” The wonder in her voice wraps around us along with the wind leaving its mark on my skin. I’m elated by the inspired and awestruck look on her face. Her hand tightens around mine, and I watch as she breathes in the earthy clean smell of the air. I want to agree with her, but deep down, I know I wouldn’t be talking about the view in front of us.

For some reason, up here, by ourselves and away from the world, it feels different. She suddenly feels different. It’s like she’s someone else, or maybe it’s just me.

“My father first brought me here on my tenth birthday. I was so proud that he wanted to spend time with me to show me something he loved. He said until then, he thought I was too young and worried I would fall over the edge, but at ten, he trusted me. I’ve never forgotten that day, and I don’t know why I just told you that, but this is my favorite spot. I’ve come here a lot over the years.”

“Are you close with your parents?” she asks.

“More so with my mother. My father, he . . . ah, he worked a lot. How about you?”

“No, I’m not,” she whispers, and then she closes the subject. “Thank you for bringing me,” she mumbles, her gaze still enchanted by the view.

I watch her face as she stares out toward the horizon. The sun is about to dip down below the peaks of the hills and everything around us is bathed in a golden light.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to or not,” I confess, wondering if I should keep this tidbit to myself.

“Why not?” She turns to look at me and our eyes meet.

“Because . . . I’ve never brought anyone here before. It’s my place.” My eyes scan her face, and I hate how my stomach tightens. Why is it that when we’re in front of other people I want to strangle her, but when we’re alone, I forget what she does and who she is, and I kind of enjoy her company?

“Really?” Her eyebrows rise in question. If there had ever been someone I’d have brought in the past, it would have been Elaine, but she was always way more interested in our city life than coming here to the farm.

“Really, but when you mentioned lightning, I thought of it. In the summer, on the horizon, there’s a lot of heat lightning. I’ve always liked to watch the storms off in the distance.”

“Sounds beautiful, and I love it here.” She breaks eye contact and nods toward the bag I brought. “What’s in there? Did you pack us a snack?”

“No.” I chuckle. “The golf cart we took is mine. The bag stays on the back and holds things I need occasionally.”

Letting go of her hand, I put the bag down and pull out a blanket.

“You need a blanket?” She watches me as I throw it out for us to sit on.

“You’d be surprised how much time I spend up here.” I gesture for her to sit, and she moves onto the blanket.