I'll Be Yours for Christmas Page 5

  Abby didn’t say anything, but took another sip of the strong coffee so the heat would scorch away the tightening in her throat. He was sticking up for her again, just like he did when the mean boy had picked on her about her braces.

  “Thanks, but I have to find some way to compensate her. Now is as good a time as any. Then I have to find out what our exact losses are and call my parents. That is going to be so awful…” she said, and didn’t dare meet his eyes, lest his sympathy weaken her resolve not to cry again.

  Normally Abby never cried, not even during sappy movies, but she was overwrought and exhausted. Right now, she needed to concentrate on business.

  “I have an idea,” Reece said.

  “If we try to lock her in the barn, I don’t think anyone will believe that she’s a runaway bride,” Abby tried to joke, but it fell flat.

  Reece smiled slightly. He tipped her chin up with his fingers, making her meet his eyes, which were sympathetic, but not in a bad way. In a silvery, soft way that made her remember his kiss.

  “What?” she asked, almost panicked that amid everything, she could still lust for Reece.

  “Use Winston wineries for the wedding, and for any other events you have this month. You can move your wines down to our room, and we’ll feature both vineyards, if you don’t mind—yours and ours. I need to clear out inventory before we sell, so it could work out for all of us.”

  Abby stared. Had he just offered for her to use his winery?

  “But…you’re selling,” she said blankly. What if the place sold quickly? She’d only become reaquainted with Reece two days ago—could she trust him? She couldn’t make promises that she’d break again later on.

  “Don’t worry about that. I can work it out so that whoever buys us, they don’t close until after the wedding, at least. If it takes longer, we can figure it out as we go, but in the meanwhile, you’re welcome to run your business out of our front rooms.”

  Abby was stunned and unsure what to say, but she couldn’t think of one good reason to say no, except what had happened between them the night before. What had almost happened. If she and Reece were going into business together, even temporarily, she couldn’t let that happen again.

  “I don’t know what to say…it’s so generous of you,” she admitted. “It would save me so much, not having to refund the deposit on this wedding. And all you want me to do is sell your wines, too?”

  That wouldn’t be hard; the Winstons made spectacular wines, and she had lost several barrels in the fire, so this could be the perfect solution.

  As long as they could keep their hands—and wonderful, muscular thighs—to themselves, she thought silently.

  “I thought you said your Realtor wanted you keeping the property empty, neutral? I’d have to decorate, and there would be people around all the time….”

  Reece didn’t look concerned. “I know. I’m sure he can work around it. The place is just sitting there. I already sent the staff home and was going to run the main room myself for a few weeks, but you obviously could use it.”

  Her heart lightened as she considered, and she felt hopeful for the first time all morning. This could save her, in more ways than one.

  “We’d have to, um, keep things strictly business, though,” she said, hoping he got her drift.

  This would also give her the perfect opportunity to talk with Reece about selling. Maybe she could convince him there was a better way…and give her time to figure out what that was.

  “Whatever you want, Abby. I’m just a friend, trying to help. No strings attached,” he said, though she could tell from the heat in his eyes that he was remembering the night before, too.

  Could she keep things “strictly business” with Reece?

  “I guess I could ask Sandra,” she said, though she couldn’t imagine it wouldn’t be an acceptable option. Winston wineries was far fancier than Abby’s reception room, and with the same beautiful views.

  “I could try booking rooms for the wedding party at Tandy’s Inn, and I’ll need one, too,” she added, thinking out loud.

  “We have some rooms upstairs. Mom used them more for guests, but they would work for your wedding party to dress or spend the night. You should stay at the house. You’re more than welcome.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “I mean, I don’t want to intrude. You’re being kind enough as it is.”

  He looked at her as if she was talking nonsense. “It’s a big house, Abby, and you’d be near your barns and the winery. There’s no reason to pay for a room when we have six empty ones upstairs in the house.”

  Abby chewed her lip, feeling like she was jumping into the frying pan after the fire, but her house wouldn’t be habitable for quite some time. Staying at Tandy’s, even though it was right there in the village, wouldn’t be as convenient as being at Reece’s.

  Or as tempting.

  Steeling her resolve, she nodded. Put on your big girl panties and do this, Abby, she mentally nudged herself. Just be sure you keep them on.

  Ha. Like panties would matter.

  “What?” he said.

  She coughed, realizing she might have said that under her breath.

  “Uh, nothing.” She looked up at Reece. Surely last night was a fluke, the result of wine and reminiscing. They could do this. “Thank you, Reece. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Abby. Just let me know anything you need,” he said.

  His pleasure? Anything she needed? Ohmygod, this was a bad idea.

  With another squeeze to her arm before he turned away, he walked back toward his house. Where she would be sleeping tonight.

  But not with him.

  Abby groaned as she went to talk to Sandra. Hannah was absolutely going to love this.

  REECE STOPPED AND looked back, watched Abby walk away, her stride lighter than before. That made him feel better, too, that there was something he could do to help.

  She chatted with the young woman whom he had heard yelling at the top of her spoiled, self-interested lungs when he had arrived with coffee. The two women chatted a few seconds, and the bride threw her arms around Abby. Apparently his solution worked for her.

  He nodded in satisfaction, strolling the rest of the way to his place. This path over the field would get a lot of wear back and forth over the next month, he thought.

  Surprisingly, suddenly, he was looking forward to Abby’s company in the big house. Normally being alone didn’t bother him. In fact, he preferred it, but this could work.

  He hoped.

  He might be losing his mind, actually, but what was done was done. It hadn’t even occurred to him until he’d heard the woman yelling about suing Abby, and he’d taken in the exhaustion that bruised the pale skin under her eyes and the strain that pinched at her as she tried to maintain her composure.

  How could he not offer her the use of the winery? It’s what any decent neighbor, and old family friend, would do.

  Right?

  Right. It really wasn’t an excuse to spend more time with Abby while he was here, or to hopefully have her in his bed, even though she warned him they wouldn’t be mixing business with pleasure.

  He hoped to change her mind on that score. Soon.

  He’d have to call Charles, who wasn’t going to be happy, not at all, but Reece knew his parents would agree—this was the neighborly thing to do.

  Especially when his neighbor was as sexy as Abby, with lips like satin and a body that moved against his like she was made for him.

  As much as he meant his promise of a no-strings arrangement, he knew she wanted him, too. He could feel it every time he touched her.

  And he planned to touch her. A lot.

  His cell phone started ringing as soon as he got through the door, and he saw it was his brother, Ben. Immediately concerned that something was wrong with his father, fantasies about Abby disintegrated and Reece answered the call, tense.

  “Ben, what’s wrong?”
>
  “Whoa, brother, calm down. Everything’s fine—but you sound upset. What’s going on?” he asked sharply.

  Ben had fallen in love with the game of golf when he was a kid, though he was never more than an average player. But he never gave up on his dream of being involved in the sport, and landed a graduate degree in landscape architecture, with a specialization in designing golf courses. He’s spent years working with some of the best designers, building his name, and finally accumulated the backing to open his own course, his own design. Then he met his wife, Kelly, and they had two beautiful kids now. Ben had a stable, solid life.

  Reece, unlike Ben, had lived a more precarious, adventure-driven existence. He’d finished college, but the business admin degree was something he’d pursued because he didn’t really know what else he was going to do with his life. Reece had always bragged that he liked not knowing what was around the next corner. He never stopped moving, until recently.

  “Sorry. I guess I just assumed something was wrong with Dad,” Reece said.

  When had his love of adventure turned into him expecting a disaster every time the phone rang? Was this part of the post-traumatic stress disorder that his neurologist had warned about—and that Reece had dismissed—that was often the result of serious car crashes?

  “He’s fine. Mom, too. But they’re worried about you, up there, alone, especially for the holidays. I offered to come up. I can book a flight today if you want some help getting things done there, arranging the sale, the move, whatever. We could have some serious brother time,” Ben said. “Go ice fishing or something.”

  Reece smiled. “That would be great, but I don’t want to take you away from Kelly and the kids so close to the holidays. I’m good, and in fact, things have taken an interesting turn,” he said, going on to explain about the fire and offering use of the winery to Abby.

  Ben whistled. “Wow. Never boring for you, is it?”

  Reece laughed. “Yeah, you could say that. Could you fill in Mom and Dad? I assumed they wouldn’t mind.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine with it. More than fine even,” Ben said and Reece closed his eyes, hearing the grin in his brother’s voice.

  “Don’t start, Ben, and don’t make them think this is anything other than what it is.”

  “They’d just love for you to move back, whether it’s to run the winery or not. And I saw Abby when we were there for Christmas last year. She filled out nice, huh?”

  Reece’s hackles raised, hearing his brother’s frankly admiring tone. But he wasn’t surprised. A man would have to be gay or dead not to notice Abby.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like that.”

  Yes, it was.

  “Really? I know you, Reece. And I know you’ve had a thing for her ever since you were about six years old.”

  “How could you know that? You were only four,” Reece said with a scoff.

  “Yeah, well, I remember all the years after that, too. I never could figure out why you just didn’t ask her out. Hell, I almost did, just to make you jealous,” Ben said, laughing at his brother’s expense.

  And it might have worked, Reece acknowledged. But that was then. They were only kids.

  And he wasn’t Ben. Reece didn’t do permanent with anything, not when the real love of his life was getting behind the wheel of a car and driving two hundred miles an hour for a living. He’d seen too many racers leave families behind, after they had sacrificed everything to the sport, including their lives.

  “Ben, seriously, please make sure it’s okay with them. I’m still planning to sell and to move back to France. I want to race again. It’s all I want.”

  Except for Abby.

  He shook his head of the thought. Sure, he wanted her—in his bed—but his life was still on the track, on the other side of the Atlantic.

  Ben’s disappointment was carefully veiled behind a general remark, but he agreed to what Reece asked. After some more discussion about the winery and its future, Reece put the phone back on the mahogany table by the window. Right there, the night before, he’d pressed Abby up against the wall with every intention of making her his.

  For the night.

  He still planned to do that—for a week, or a month—and he’d make sure she knew that up front, too. She’d use Winston to get through the holiday and the wedding, and they’d share some good times to make up for what they missed back in high school—or not, if Abby stuck to her guns about business only—then they would both go on with their lives. It was that simple.

  Reece ignored the mocking laugh in his head as he went upstairs to get a room set up for Abby.

  4

  TWO DAYS LATER, Abby drove up the lake road, returning from a day of shopping. The sun hung low on the horizon, and she figured she had about an hour of dusky daylight left. Even with the shorter days, the snow helped keep things brighter longer. She turned into her driveway out of habit, forgetting that she meant to go to Reece’s and unload her goods, but since she was here, figured she could check in on the horses. When she spotted the barn doors open, she froze.

  Though they weren’t susceptible to much crime, and though she was just across the field, she’d been worried about her horses. She’d barely had time to take care of Beau and Buttercup, having had to break her promise of a long ride and settle for leaving them out in the pasture.

  But that door shouldn’t be open. She knew for a fact that she’d locked it when she left that morning.

  The stale scent of smoke from the fire still clung faintly to the crisp winter air as she hopped out of the car and made her way down to the barn. Slowly opening the door, she peered inside and saw no one but Shadow, their black lab, who came bounding to greet her, and Buttercup. But no Beau. The door to his stall was wide open, though it appeared undamaged.

  Abby’s heart fell to her feet and she stepped inside, instantly noting that Beau’s tack was gone as well.

  Frowning, she pulled out her cell phone.

  “Hannah? Are you riding Beau?” she asked as soon as her friend picked up, though usually Hannah would let Abby know if she was coming by. Also, Hannah typically rode Buttercup, who was somewhat smaller.

  “Uh, no, why would you ask?”

  Abby put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes to stave off panic, and walked back out the door to breathe in the cold air and calm down.

  “Beau’s not here, neither is his tack, and I’ve been gone all day—”

  She stopped midsentence as she caught sight of a figure getting closer, down by the edge of the field. Hannah was upset, too, and told her to hang up and call the police, but a few moments later, Abby saw with a wash of relief that that wouldn’t be necessary.

  “It’s Reece. Reece has him,” she said into the phone, and then hung up as the rider and the horse came closer.

  Abby had never seen Reece on horseback. She didn’t even know he could ride. His family always had dogs, but never horses.

  “Reece!” she called, waving, and he waved back, heading toward her.

  He looked like every cowboy fantasy she’d ever had, sitting tall on Beau, his camel-colored coat and hat contrasting with the steed’s dark chestnut coloring as they approached her. Beau whinnied in welcome, and Abby was so relieved he was okay she realized she was shaking.

  “Hey, are you all right? What’s wrong?” Reece asked as he came up next to her.

  “I—I saw the door open and Beau gone… I didn’t know where he was. I thought maybe someone stole him. The police told me to be careful about people poking around here, which I guess some people do when they find out about burned buildings….” She trailed off, petting the horse’s soft cheek with a sigh of relief.

  “Ah, damn, Abby. Sorry about that. You left the barn keys on the counter, and I was feeling antsy. I knew you hadn’t had any time to get them out for a ride, so I figured I’d do it for you,” he said, clearly apologetic.

  “That’s so good of you, Reece. I guess I didn’t think of you because I didn’t even know
you rode,” she admitted.

  “I learned in France. Haven’t had the chance to ride in a while, but it felt good.”

  “Did you ride both of them?”

  “No, I figured I’d give them both a short turn around the field, so I was just coming back for Buttercup.”

  Abby nodded. “Let me grab a saddle and I’ll join you, if you don’t mind. They can have a longer ride that way, and I could use some fresh air, too.”

  “Sure, that would be great,” he agreed, and a little while later Abby was on Buttercup, riding alongside Reece on the lake path, more relaxed than she had been in days.

  “I needed this. I’m glad you had the idea to take them out,” she said. “I feel so guilty when I can’t tend to them like I always did, but it seems like the winery takes over my life sometimes.”

  “I hear you. I thought I would like to get some pets at home in France, but I don’t want to kennel them or pay pet-sitters when I’m away, which is usually a lot.”

  The easy companionship between them seemed enhanced by the quiet of the trail and the rhythmic gait of the horses.

  “You have a house there?” she asked.

  “Yes, outside of the Talence, near the Bordeaux region. There’s a lot of industry there, as well as wine and some universities. I found a house outside of the town that allowed me to go into the city if I wanted to, but to retreat when I needed to, as well. It’s an older house, and I have been fixing it up slowly, when I have the opportunity.”

  “Bordeaux? So you left wine country to live in wine country?” she said with a soft laugh, so he knew she wasn’t criticizing.

  “I guess so. I did intend to study wines when I went there, and then I discovered racing.”

  “Funny how you had to go that far to find it, when we’ve lived with the Glen under our noses all our lives.”

  “I know. But we never really went to the races when we were kids. Ben and Dad spent more time playing golf, which I never took to. I went to a few races at the Glen, but at that point in time I was more interested in making out with whatever girl I met there instead of watching the race,” he said with a self-effacing grin.