Page 75 of Wine & Dine

“I didn’t lie. I’d never danced like that until you. And fuck Alicia and Ingrid.” My tone is sharp, and Dolores flinches, but I’m pissed. “Why didn’t you come to me before you ran off? I was there with you. You.”

“You looked rather practiced on the dance floor.” She’s snarky, and I want to retort but don’t want to fight.

“I attend a lot of events,” I huff, scratching at the back of my neck. “You already know this about me.”

“I do, and it’s a reminder I don’t fit in your world.” She glances up at Wally racing down the lane. “I was headed home to Denton’s condo when Mati called me. She didn’t say what was wrong, but the urgency in her voice told me it was time to come home. To Georgia.”

“And you couldn’t have called me? You sent me a text, but it didn’t explain anything.” I stop walking, and she steps in front of me and turns to face me. “I would have come with you.”

“Why?”

“Dolores, come on,” I mutter. She can’t be this dense, but she stares at me, waiting for an answer. “The other night, I had everything planned. I wanted it to be perfect. I…” I realize I’m admitting too much. Dolores’s brows pinch, and she takes a step toward me, questioning me with the expression on her face.

“What did you have planned?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” I huff, scrubbing my hands down my face. I was an idiot to think she felt the same way as I did, but I’m not fool enough to admit it. Now that she’s told me she won’t return to California, I’m getting the impression she wants nothing to do with me.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the contracts.” I need to change the subject, and Dolores tips back her head and then turns her body to continue walking. Wally is quite a bit ahead of us, and I whistle for him to come back. As he races toward us, I explain myself. “Denton mentioned the land. It was just a suggestion. More like a joke, but after our visit to Napa, I got to thinking…maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.” I can’t add how I hoped she’d be on board with me. How I hoped she’d want to be a part of the vineyard with me.

“I’ll cancel the contracts, though, and just gift you the money. I don’t fucking care about the money, or the contracts, or any of it.”

“You can’t give me the money,” she huffs, looking deflated.

“Dolores.” I pause, reaching out for her arm to stop her. “I want to do this for you.” Does she hear what I’m saying? She’s staring at me, wheels spinning inside her head. “I have an idea.” I bite my lip and glance left, drawing courage from where we stand.

“You know I want a vineyard. A place that’s all mine for retirement someday. This is the perfect spot.” Dolores doesn’t blink. She makes no motion whatsoever. “Let me use the land. It isn’t being used, and it’s perfect.”

“What do you know about starting a vineyard? I thought you wanted to buy one already established.”

“I changed my mind.” I didn’t realize I’d changed my mind until I started a budget and an outline of my business plan. Magnolia’s is large enough to get a good start. I don’t need the house, so the building is neither here nor there to me. “Magnolia can stay in the house for as long as she likes. Denton suggested the property as collateral on the loan for the diner.”

“It’s my diner. And my inheritance,” she states, her voice falling small.

“And I don’t want you to give it up. I want to borrow it, and I’ll amend the contract.”

“What about your money?”

“Dammit, Dolores. You’re more precious to me than money.” The cold nips at my cheeks, but I don’t feel the sting. The heaving of our breaths and warm air leaking from our nostrils fills the space between us instead.

“We can work something out,” I begin, hesitating with hope. “Keep the money to improve the diner. Let me have the land to build a vineyard. It’s a win-win.”

“Why?” Dolores questions, her face still pinched in misunderstanding.

Because I don’t want to be away from you.

Because I want to do this with you.

Because I want to be where you are.

“Because it’s just sitting here, waiting to be used, and I want my plan to begin. My future. Here.”

Her breathing becomes more ragged. Her nostrils flaring in the cold. Her lips are pink. Her face rosy.

“I don’t know,” she says, and I step toward her, right up in her space, desperate to touch her face but holding back. She isn’t looking up at me. “I should talk to Denton, though Lord knows he didn’t offer me the same courtesy.”

“We can talk to him together. I’ll explain my vision to him. He doesn’t want to keep the place. Not for any purpose. He just understands it needs to stay within your family.”

“But…” Dolores opens her mouth and then clamps her lips shut, rolling them inward.