“Anything else I can do for you?” he asks, his tone overly polite.
“Yeah,” I say dryly. “Tell Faith she owes me coffee for letting this happen on her watch.”
Ben chuckles. “Will do, boss.”
As he heads for the door, I call after him, “And I’m going to need a tutorial so I can mess with my brother’s monitors.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not charging you.” Ariana swats my card away from the reader and slides a sixteen-ounce latte into my hands.
I needed an afternoon pick me up after one of my bride’s had a meltdown with me over gold chia chairs being the wrong shade of gold. She wanted a hideous yellow-gold, whereas the ones I already have on hand are a brassy-gold, much more elegant. It took an hour to convince her I was right without making her think I was trying to convince her of anything. I swear this job is two parts therapist, one part actual wedding planning.
“I’m trying to be supportive, and you won’t let me,” I say, exasperated.
“You being here is support enough.”
Ariana is the baby of the family—technically. She’s a twin, but Layla, her other half, managed to beat her into the world by a whole twelve minutes. She smiles in that soft way that makes her dimples show, and dusts her flour-covered hands on her apron.
Layla is more like me. It’s not unusual for the two of us to be impulsive, speak without thinking, or do something completely rash just for the thrill of it. But Ariana is nothing like us. She’s the calm to our chaos, pure goodness wrapped in an apron. She’s the one you go to when life falls apart and you need a steady shoulder to lean on. Her hugs could fix anything, and she pours every ounce of that sweetness and care into her baking.
I take a sip of the latte, savoring the rich, creamy warmth. “You’re too good, you know that? Makes the rest of us look bad.”
Ariana grins, tying her apron tighter around her waist. “Someone has to balance out the family. Now, sit down and let me grab you a scone before Layla comes in and steals them all. I made the cranberry-orange ones you like.”
She wanders off to the back, and I settle into an empty bistro table. It’s quiet today, as expected—once Spring Release weekend hits, though, it’ll be packed until winter. Spring Release marks the local wineries’ big reveal of new vintages, and it’s considered the unofficial kickoff to tourist season. My family’s winery is usually the main attraction and draws in crowds from all over the country.
I stare out the window facing Main Street while I sip on my drink. Since it’s finally feeling like spring, large hanging pots, overflowing with colorful flowers, adorn the lampposts lining the cobblestone sidewalks. The storefronts aredecorated with window box arrangements, drawing attention to new window displays. Everyone can smell tourist season coming, doing everything they can to generate business. If there’s one thing I love about my small town, she knows how to put on a show. Red Mountain is easily the cutest town in the county, and even though the younger version of me turned my nose up at the thought of calling Red Mountain home forever, the older, wiser version of me today knows it’s a little slice of heaven.
The bell on the front door jingles, forcing my eyes to rove over as a man walks in wearing an olive-green sheriff’s uniform. My breathing falters as I hold it, only to release it when I realize it’s not Dominic, it’s Ryker. A rush of disappointment hits me, but I shake it off. Considering how we left things the other day, he’s the last person I should be hoping to run into.
Ryker flashes me a friendly smile as he approaches. I stand, meeting him halfway for a brief hug. It isn’t until I pull away that I see he’s not alone. Morales is with him. She ignores me, brushing past us to the counter to place her order.
Okay then.Kind of a bitch move.
Ignoring her obvious snub, I focus my attention back on Ryker. “How’s it going,Sheriff Tapert?”
He blushes slightly, obviously still not used to the title. “Oh, you know, same stuff, different day.” he says, cheerfully as he joins me at my table.
I’ve always liked Ryker. Most people do—he’s proof of that, being the youngest sheriff ever elected in the county. He also holds a special place in my heart since his wedding was one of the first I planned after taking over as the winery’s event coordinator.
He married Claire Landry—now Tapert—five years ago, and they’ve been a beloved couple in town ever since. I felt awful when I heard about their struggles with infertility, butrecently heard the good news that Claire is expecting. She’s due in just a few months.
“Congratulations, by the way.” I offer him a smile. “I heard about Claire.”
His face lights up with pride. “Thank you. We’re pretty excited. It’s been a long time coming.”
There’s a glimmer of something that looks like sadness but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by his usual positive smile.
Ariana returns with a tray of scones and sets one down for each of us.
“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Ariana greets, her face blushing pink, and Ryker tips his head at her.
I take a bite even though they’re piping hot. “How’s Claire doing? I feel like I haven’t seen her in months,” I ask Ryker, talking around a mouthful of scone.
His shoulders drop as his mouth presses into a line. “Well, the baby is good. Strong and healthy, but Claire has been sicker than hell. The doctor diagnosed her with HG, she’s practically been on bed rest.”
A bittersweet curve of my lips appears as I look at him. “I’m sorry to hear that, but happy the baby is staying healthy. If you two need anything at all let me know. I’m great at organizing meal trains and all sorts of stuff like that.”
He smiles wistfully. “Thanks. I just might take you up on that one of these days. You’ve always been so great to us.” His hands clasp over the table as he regards me thoughtfully. “I’m glad we ran into each other, I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you.”
