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She waves me away like I’m a silly insect. “Leaving for a town within driving distance. If you’re into each other, you’ll makesomething work.” Shaking her head, Marissa comes to stand between me and the oven, so I can’t avoid her gaze. “But first, you need to kiss him.”
As if on cue, the timer dings. My heart starts thumping in my chest, and it has nothing to do with brownies.
It takes me twenty minutes to walk from the old barn to Dash’s house, but it feels good to be outside rather than driving through the property. Our dad built it so that everything is accessible on foot, but utility roads circle the perimeter so trucks can come and go from the vineyards when it’s picking season, and they need to carry grapes back to the fermenting barrels.
Dad bought a half dozen golf carts for employees to use when they need to get quickly from one area of the property to another without having to take their cars. My siblings use them too, so it’s not surprising that two are parked outside of Dash’s house.
As I approach the house, I hear raucous conversation, which tells me at least half my siblings are present. Slipping through the front door quietly, I head for the kitchen with the warm tin of brownies, which has cooled only slightly on the walk.
I slide the potholder from my hand and put it beneath the tin on the counter. Dash’s kitchen smells like cilantro and is a mess of cutting boards with chopped tomatoes and onions. Half the chopped mixture seems to have made it into a bowl on the counter, while the rest sits in piles.
Looking out the window over the sink, I see Beatrix, Archer, and Dash outside. My brothers sit in Adirondack chairs on the deck that wraps around the main floor of the house. A ribbon of smoke wafts from the closed lid of the barbecue, where I know Dash is cooking chicken and steak for the tacos.
Several open bottles of wine sit on the outdoor dining table, along with a smattering of glasses.
“Hey Peej, when’s our field trip to Duck Feather?” Dash asks me.
“Next week?” I don’t want to tell him that I’ve been “busy” this week because I’ve been spending all my free time with Colin. Not that he’d judge.
Meanwhile, I don’t see Colin, and I can’t decide whether I feel relieved or sad. Maybe some of each.
“Hey, guys.” I step through the slider and join them on the deck, which overlooks a cabernet vineyard that stretches toward the horizon. “I come bearing brownies.” I gesture toward the kitchen with a nod.
“Nice. All ends?” Dash looks like a schoolkid, with rumpled hair and hopeful expression that almost never leaves his face. The youngest boy has none of the little brother complex that I seem to have. Even though he annoyed Archer and Jackson for years, trailing after them and trying to be like their friends, they always seemed to find him cute like a puppy.
I spread my palms wide. “I’m no amateur.” Dash’s deck faces the afternoon sun, and it’s warm enough that I take off my outer shirt and drape it over the arm of a chair. Summers in Napa are my favorite time of year, even though it gets brutally hot midday. The heat just makes for perfect afternoons where a light breeze sometimes cuts through the stillness of the day and carries through to evening.
“Definitely not. Brownie pro over here.” Beatrix points two fingers over my head and leans over to give me a hug. Sisters gotta stick together, and I won the sister lottery. She’s my role model for multitasking and having a good attitude at the same time.
My brothers, for as much as they love me and each other, are each a piece of work.
Beatrix walks to the deck rail, staring out over the vines with a glass of sauvignon blanc in her hand. I can tell it’s sauv blanc by the color and the fact that it’s what she always drinks. Her hair, always perfectly pulled back, hangs in a long ponytail.
Between Archer and Dash is a conspicuously empty chair, where my dad always sits. He liked the middle chair with the most straight-on view. And since he’s the one who can take credit for turning Buttercup Hill into the mammoth success it is today, no one would ever begrudge him the seat of his choice.
For a moment, I feel lighter at the idea that maybe he’s coming tonight.
I touch the arm of the chair and look at Archer. He shakes his head. “Fifty-fifty. According to the nurse, he was doing well earlier, but he gets more confused in the evenings.”
“Well, fingers crossed.”
I miss my dad. He hasn’t always been the most supportive of me as a career woman, but I never doubted that he had a special place in his heart for his Shiny Penny, as he called me. He’s the only one who ever called me anything other than PJ, which is why it’s extra odd that Colin has taken to calling me by a nickname.
I let my mind wander once again to last night, and my chest tightens at the memory. My eyes drift shut thinking about the way my skin rippled with goose bumps when he put his hands on my face.
It’s why I don’t notice him come in. It’s why it surprises me when I hear his soft growl near my ear, “Junebug.”
I swallow hard and turn around, bumping squarely into his chest because he’s that close to me. I look around to see if any of my siblings notice. My brothers are involved in a conversation about the San Francisco 49ers, but Beatrix eyes me from her perch against the rail. She raises an eyebrow before turning back toward the view and sipping her wine.
“Hi.” I pant like I just ran up a flight of stairs from the feel of his breath against my cheek when he speaks.
Archer notices Colin and gets up from his chair. On his way over, he grabs a wineglass from the table and hands it to him. “Hey, man. Welcome to the family dinner. Let chaos reign.”
“Looks pretty chill to me,” Colin observes.
Archer laughs and shuttles Colin over to the table to check out the wine varietals. Colin’s gaze sweeps around the deck and lingers on me for a few seconds.
His gaze trails from my face and down to my bare arms, which he warms like the sun. Our eyes lock for a moment, and I feel exposed, my plain lust for him laid out on a platter. I look away before any of my siblings notice.
