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“Yeah.”
God, another word in that voice. Such a smooth and deep red with a hint of black, like a black raspberry.
Does he ever answer with more than one word?
Damn.
I’ll be spending my days with this man. This man and his voice. We’ll have to talk, which means he’ll have to speak.
And I’ll be jelly in human form.
“Hey, guys!” Diana finally appears at the top of the short staircase. “You’re not giving Ash too hard a time, are you?”
Talon waves his hand. “Come on down, sweetheart, and join us for a pre-dinner cocktail.”
Diana goes to her father first and gives him a big hug. “I’ve missed you. I hated being away all summer.” She turns to Bree. “You too, squirt.”
“I’m taller than you.” Bree launches herself into Diana’s arms for a hug.
Yeah. God. Huggers.
Diana lets go of Bree and walks to Dale. “Hey, big brother.”
He smiles.
God, he smiles!
His whole face lights up like a brilliant night sky.
So handsome. So striking. So jubilant the sound of his smile.
Dale circles his arms around Diana and gives her a hug.
Man, she’s lucky. I get the feeling Dale doesn’t hug a lot of people. I’m not the jealous type. I mean, seriously. Why envy what someone else has? There’s another guy around the corner. Always.
But the feeling lodged like a knife in my gut is new to me.
Jealousy.
I want to be in Dale’s arms.
Dale, who I don’t know from Adam, and who’s spoken all of three words since I arrived.
“Good to see you, Sis,” he says, easing into the embrace.
Diana pulls back. “I think I’ve missed you most of all.”
“Hey!” Bree whines.
“You know what I mean. Dale and I have always been close.”
They have? News to me. Of course I’ve only known Dee for a little over a month. I’ll have to ask her about that comment.
“When’s Mom get home?” Diana asks.
“Any minute now,” Talon says. “We’re eating out on the deck. It’s a gorgeous Indian summer day. We can watch the sunset.”
A Colorado sunset.
I’ve heard they’re unequaled.
But nothing can possibly be more beautiful—and symphonic—than Dale Steel.
Chapter Four
Dale
A California girl. Blond, blue-eyed, and from what I can tell by looking at her in jeans and a simple T-shirt, she probably looks amazing in a bikini.
What’s a California oenologist doing here in Colorado, anyway? California is the biggest producer of wine in the country. She can learn a lot more there, being taught by someone else. Some egghead with a degree like hers.
Not a loner who doesn’t have a clue what an oenology professor pontificates about.
Still, I’ve produced my share of excellent wines without ever cracking a book. Uncle Ry says I’m a natural. Whatever. All I know is I get the vines. They speak to me in their own special way. When I was a young teenager, I used to sleep in the vineyards under the stars. Dad came with me the first couple of times, but once he convinced Mom I was perfectly safe out there, he stopped tagging along.
My dad has always understood me in a way my mother doesn’t. He gets my need for solitude, my joy in the outdoors.
Nothing is more beautiful than a Colorado night in the vineyards. We’re far enough from the big cities that we don’t have the pollution hiding the stars. I see them all. They shine down on me, protecting me from…
From what?
I’m safe here. I’ve always been safe here. I’m thirty-five, in great shape, and strong as an ox.
I’m pretty safe everywhere.
But never do I feel safer than I do in the vineyards, veiled in the light of the stars.
My mom appears at the top of the stairs. “I’m home, Talon.”
“Hey, blue eyes.”
My dad has always called my mom blue eyes. She does have the most beautiful sapphire-blue eyes. Neither Diana nor Brianna inherited them. Dee doesn’t care so much, but Bree covets them. They’re both dark-eyed like Dad.
My brother and I, of course, don’t share any genetic material with our parents. We never knew who our real father was, and I hardly remember my mother. We don’t have any photos of her. But her eyes were brown. A light brown. I remember that. Donny and I both have green eyes, though his are more hazel and mine a clear green. They must have come from our father.
For a while, when I was a kid, before my mother died, I’d imagine a handsome green-eyed man riding up on a white horse and rescuing Donny and me. Not that we had it bad with our mother, but we lived very modestly, and she had to leave us alone a lot to go to work.
That’s what inevitably led to…
I shake my head to clear it.
Not going there. Not tonight.
I’m having dinner with my family. This is a happy occasion.
Tomorrow, when I have to train surfer girl—that’s when I can dwell on other shit. God. Three months of having to talk to someone else.
