Page 70 of Legs

Mine was damp, too, from nerves, not exertion. “We can save that for next time, but it’s great to finally meet you. How’s the move been?”

“Can’t complain. Things are more laid back than D.C., which is nice, and I’m volunteering on a Habitat for Humanity project.” He was handsome—tall and lean and fit, the type of man I would have imagined for myself, before Jimmy. My gaze fell back to my bad boy, the only guy for me. His strong jaw pulsed, wariness in his wide stance. Unusual for him. Everything about this situation was off, setting alarm bells ringing in my head. My stomach didn’t just lurch. It dropped to my feet.

Jimmy clapped Owen’s shoulder. “Thanks for the game. Next time I’ll kick your ass.”

Taking the cue, Owen picked up his ball. “Not in this lifetime.” He said a final farewell, leaving Jimmy and me alone, facing off.

I waited on his confession, while he was unaware I was hiding the tiny, unimportant, miniscule fact that I’d been hanging out with his father for weeks and had just had a conversation with his mother. Kill me now. Yesterday I’d been on cloud nine, everything in my life falling into place. Now I was just falling.

Still, I couldn’t ignore the tightness on Jimmy’s face, or the fact that he was scared I’d freak out. Words didn’t get more ominous than that.

Practically holding my breath, I asked, “What haven’t you told me?”

Twenty-two

Jimmy

What haven’t you told me? It should have been a simple question, one I’d pored over for weeks. But this was Rachel, the woman who valued family above all else, and I was about to prove I was an asshole. I’d tried to rethink my plan, reassess if walking away was better than spilling the truth. Better than destroying the winery I loved. Then anger would cloud my mind. My father’s nasty words would loop, his choice to cheat our customers unforgivable. This was the only way, and it was time Rachel knew.

“When I told you I joined the contest because I thought it would be fun, I lied.”

“Okay…” She waited, arms folded around her waist, wariness in her stiff stance.

I jammed my hand through my hair and focused on the floor between us. “Offshoot Winery’s head winemaker has been messing with our Cabernet Sauvignon, blending in more than the twenty-five percent of other varietals allowed.”

I looked up, and her eyes widened. “Shit.”

I forced an awkward laugh. “More like huge fucking disaster. I tried talking my brother and father into doing something about it, but they were happy to plod along. It had been happening awhile, without anyone clueing in. They figured if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

“But if people knew, they could be sued, couldn’t they? The wine world would be horrified.”

In Italy, a man had been charged for passing off cheap wine as a premium Brunello. In New York, Rudy Kurniawan had been sentenced to prison for falsely labeling wines and swindling people out of millions. My family’s transgressions weren’t so notorious, but the winery wouldn’t escape unscathed.

I confessed it all to Rachel, spilled the whole sordid story: seeing the contest flyer the night we’d met, needing to expose the lies by leaking them through the final round. My hope to finally let go of my past. As I went on, Rachel’s face transformed from flushed to ashen, one hand clutched over her chest. My heart nearly busted through my ribs.

I expected relief, my secret finally in the open. Instead my neck prickled, the air in the room suddenly suffocating. The sweat on my skin turned clammy.

“You’ll destroy them.” Her anguished whisper nearly cut me down.

I worked my jaw, everything feeling hazy. Wrong. Bad. “Breaking the rules isn’t cool, Ray. It’s gone on too long, and if it bites me in the ass later, my name will be ruined. If I do it now, I can claim I just found out. I’m aware of the fallout, that my family won’t forgive me. It also means they’ll finally leave me alone—us alone. I can move on. Don’t you want that?”

“Yes, I want that. But not like this.”

“It’s the only way.”

She made a frustrated grunt, arms tense, like she wanted to shake me. “In your stubborn head, maybe. But sabotaging your family winery, the winery that’s in your blood, will make it worse, not better.”

I fisted my hands, wishing I was at the gym, punching bag swinging, all my frustrations pummeled into leather. She didn’t understand. Even when she’d worried her mother wouldn’t support her choice of men, Lydia had proven her wrong. Rachel had only ever known love. “I’ve tried. For two years, I’ve tried to put this crap behind me. But my parents aren’t like yours. They are vindictive and selfish. I need to sever my ties with them.”

Panic flitted across her face. “Your parents don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t know them or what they deserve.” There was that tone of mine again, biting and nasty. The asshole lurking below the surface. When I’d sipped my first glass of Offshoot wine in two years, I’d been rude to Rachel and had cut her off. I’d barked at her when she answered my mother’s call. Now I was lashing out…and it gutted me. I could barely control the sting of my voice. I didn’t understand why the hell my family still affected me so much. Ashamed, I dipped my head and rubbed my neck.

No. I wasn’t over what my parents had done. Not by a long shot. And Rachel was getting dragged along for the bumpy ride.

I was about to apologize, when she said, “Actually, I do know them.”

My head shot up. “My parents?”