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“Hi, Luke,” she said and then asked, “Have you seen Stephen anywhere?”
Luke gave a curt nod. “Earlier. With J.D. and that scruffy-lookin’ friend of his.”
“Miles?” What did J.D. have to do with it? Worry set her teeth on edge.
“Don’t know his name.” Luke flashed her a crooked smile. “I just caught a glimpse of them earlier, then heard a truck or some kind of rig pull out. Thought it was probably J.D.’s Jeep.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
As Luke climbed into his old truck, Tiffany headed back to the house. What was going on? She felt a dread, as cold as a north wind, cut through her soul as she walked up the stairs, checked on a sleeping Christina, then made her way to Stephen’s room.
It was cleaner than usual, thanks to his efforts during the period when he’d been grounded, but she found no hint in the scattered CDs and magazines as to where he’d gone. He’s probably with J.D. He’ll be all right, Tiffany tried to convince herself as she ran her finger over the top shelf of his bookcase and noticed the little car he’d fashioned from wood and entered a race with years ago when Philip had been alive. But Miles Dean is involved, and that spells trouble. Trouble with a capital T.
Having found no clues to Stephen’s whereabouts, she left his room and hesitated in the hallway. The door to the third floor had been left open, was slightly ajar. Beckoning. Though she felt a sense of guilt for invading J.D.’s privacy, she mounted the stairs to the loft tucked under the eaves.
She took one step into his room, turned on the lights and tensed when she saw his duffel bag, fully packed, standing ready near the door. He was leaving. Just like that After they’d made love.
Though she’d known it would happen, had tried to prepare herself, a part of her withered in pain. Why had she expected anything different? He was just a man, and like most of the men in her life, he was leaving her.
Don’t dwell on it. Buck up.
But the dull ache around her heart only increased. She walked to the window to look through the branches of the night-darkened tree when she noticed his briefcase, open, and a document spread upon the table.
Don’t look at it.
But she saw her name—and Philip’s—on the contract.
The contract?
With trembling fingers she picked up the pages and read each of the pages. Slowly, as she sifted through the legal-ese, she understood the reason why J.D. Santini had come to Bittersweet. It wasn’t just to buy a winery. It wasn’t to see his niece and nephew. It wasn’t to check on her. No, the reason he’d shown his face down here and rented an apartment from her was because he was checking out his father’s investment in this house, this Victorian manor she’d called home. Her heaven.
Only it wasn’t hers.
Santini Brothers owned the lion’s share of it. Philip had signed away most of what she had assumed was her equity. Nothing much was left.
And it had been J.D.’s job to come and give her the news. Only he’d chickened out.
Tears burned behind her eyes. Betrayal raged through her soul. How had she trusted him? Believed in him? Made love to him?
Because you’re a fool for that man. You always have been and you always will be.
Her knees turned to jelly, and she sagged against the table. The first tears began to rain from her eyes, and she heard the sound of an engine. Swallowing hard, she looked out the window and braced herself as J.D.’s Jeep came into view. Her fingers curled over the damning papers, and she forced her leaden legs to move. It was time to have it out, once and for all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Who do you think you are?” Tiffany flew across the dry grass like an avenging angel. Her eyes were as bright as twenty-four-karat gold, her face flushed, her beautiful lips compressed into a furious pout, her black hair streaming behind her. In one hand she had papers, legal papers, clutched into a wad.
J.D.’s stomach tightened. Every muscle in his body tensed as he climbed out of the Jeep. He knew why she was furious. Stephen didn’t.
“Mom—”
“Go into the house, Stephen,” she ordered.
“But—”
“You heard me!” So angry she was shaking, she stopped at the Jeep’s fender. Her eyes, luminous and burning with wrath, focused on J.D. “Your uncle and I have something important to discuss.”
