Bennett’s hesitation was barely perceptible, but she sensed it.
He patted her knee. “No more than usual.”
They spoke a little more, and Ivy managed to work Clark and Imani into the conversation. Bennett didn’t seem to have spoken to Clark this morning, so she relaxed a little, then immediately felt a twinge of guilt for not sharing what she’d done last night.
She loved her husband, but in this case, she was determined to follow her gut instinct, especially since he’d seemed out of sorts yesterday. She knew his job wasn’t an easy one, even in Summer Beach. Residents had differing opinions. Sometimes Bennett compared his mayoral job to that of a referee.
She decided she was doing the right thing by sparing Bennett another conversation about her plan. He would know soon enough if they found anything.
After a couple of hours, they arrived at the intricate iron gates that stood open to Château Boivin.
Emilie and Tristan greeted them at the door to theirhome with open arms. They were about the same age as Ivy and Bennett, and they had moved to Southern California from France to grow grapes and make wine years ago.
“Mes amis, welcome,” Tristan said, his face wreathed with a smile. He was dressed casually in denim jeans and a jacket.
Emilie’s dark hair framed her face in soft waves. She embraced Ivy and kissed her on both cheeks, speaking in a melodic tone laced with a soft French accent. “I’m so glad you could join us. We have a fabulous weekend planned for you.”
“What’s on the agenda?” Bennett asked as he brought their small bags from the car.
Emilie traded a secret glance with her husband before she said, “Wine, of course. Relaxation, fun, and friendship. We want you to share this wonderful celebration with us.”
From their expressions, Ivy could tell they clearly had a surprise in store. Shelly seemed to know what it was, but she wasn’t letting on.
“We’re looking forward to spending time with you,” Ivy said. “This is the first relaxing break we’ve had in months.”
“Then you are long overdue,” Emilie said.
Ivy gave her a hostess gift of gourmet items from the farmers market she had assembled for them, knowing how much they enjoyed delicacies. Strawberry preserves, olive oil, and a small loaf of pumpkin bread that she’d made. Hanging on the entryway door was the wreath Shelly made for them.
Emilie thanked her and tucked her arm into Ivy’s. “Come, I’ll show you to your room. After you’ve freshened up from your journey, I’ll introduce you to our friends.”
Over the years, their friends had added guest rooms onto the main house and built cottages on the property, which they rented to those wishing to escape hectic lives for the tranquility of life in the vineyard. Much as Ivy did, Emilie and Tristan hosted weekenders, weddings, honeymoon couples, and writers’ retreats.
The last few years, Ivy welcomed the couple to the inn after their harvest, and Emilie and Tristan returned the favor.
“You’ve redecorated,” Ivy said, gazing around the room that overlooked the vineyard. An art glass chandelier of vines and purple grapes glowed from the ceiling. “Where did you find this unusual piece?”
“From a local artist,” Emilie replied, plumping a pillow on the bed. “She is a master glassblower in the old tradition from Italy. We fell in love with her work. I made the pillows to match.”
Ivy and Bennett promised to join them for a welcome reception. “You mentioned a special surprise tonight. Is there anything we should prepare for?”
Emilie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Just be yourselves. I promise it will be an unforgettable experience. But I will take your swimsuits with me now. We’ll go to the hot tub later, and you might not want to come back here to change.”
Clearly, her friend had a plan. Ivy was intrigued, so she gave Emilie their swimsuits.
After their hosts left them alone, Bennett turned to Ivy and took her hands.
“What do you think that’s all about?” Ivy asked.
“We’ll learn soon enough. Come with me, sweetheart.” He led her to the balcony.
The vineyards stretched before them, and the sun slipped toward the mountains that separated this land from the sea. Vines laden with ripening fruit glowed in the waning rays, and fresh, earthy aromas filled the crisp air. Leaves rustled above, and Ivy glanced up to catch a glimpse of a hummingbird before it flitted away.
Bennett nuzzled her neck. “Let’s take a breath and reconnect before we join the others. Just us for a moment, my love. Look at where we are.”
Whether he meant the vineyard or where they’d arrived in life didn’t matter. She lifted her face and touched her lips to his, enjoying their intimate connection. The warmth of their love flooded through her, filling her with an appreciation for all they’d been through to arrive at this point in their lives together, surrounded by the beauty of the vineyard.
This was a moment to cherish. Small moments like this meant more to her than grand gestures of love, although they had their share of those, too.
