Page 20 of Vineyard Dreams

“Really? Because you’re acting like you can’t get away from here fast enough.” Harper’s chest tightened. She’d expected some awkwardness after their kiss, but this cold shoulder felt like a slap. “I thought we could at least talk about what happened.”

Elle could barely look at her. Her gaze fixed straight ahead, deliberately avoiding Harper’s. “I have a busy day ahead of me. Meetings with suppliers, a tour...”

The distance in Elle’s voice stung more than Harper expected. This wasn’t the same woman who’d shared a bottle of wine with her last night, who’d been so moved by Harper’s movie, whose lips had been so soft against hers.

Elle’s expression shifted as her hands rested on her hips. “Harper, I...” She paused as if she was trying to find the right words. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Harper felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Elle regretted their kiss? Harper swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump that had formed in her throat. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Elle kept talking, but Harper barely registered the words. Something about still wanting to rent the vineyard if Harper was agreeable. Harper nodded, not trusting her voice. Of course, she was still agreeable.

But there was so much more Harper wanted to say. She wanted to ask why Elle regretted the kiss, why she was pushing her away.

“Okay,” Elle said. “I’ll drop off the paperwork as soon as I can.”

Harper wanted to reach out, to close the distance between them, but Elle’s body language was clear. She was putting up walls, shutting Harper out. So Harper shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“Sounds good,” Harper managed, hating how strained her voice sounded.

Elle hesitated for a moment, as if she wanted to say something more. But then she shook her head slightly and turned back to her truck.

Harper watched as Elle climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove away.

Harper walked slowly back to the house, her legs feeling like lead. A sigh escaped her lips. She was disappointed even though she’d tried not to get her hopes up, not after the way Elle couldn’t wait to get out of here last night.

But beneath the disappointment there was a reluctant acceptance. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, not even to herself, but a part of her had known something like this would happen. Elle’s grief, the way she’d poured herself into her work, the careful walls she’d built around herself – it all pointed to someone who wasn’t ready to open her heart.

Maybe Elle would never be ready. Maybe the pain of losing her wife was a wound that would never fully heal. And Harper had to find a way to accept that.

14

Elle pulled up to Harper’s house just after seven o’clock, the rental agreement tucked under her arm. She was tired after a long day at work, and she’d hoped to drop the envelope off quickly, avoiding any awkward encounters, but as she approached the door, it swung open.

Harper stood there in black leggings, her hair pulled back in a pony tail with her face free of any makeup. Her eyes met Elle’s just as she’d started to bend to put the envelope on her doormat.

“Elle, if we’re going to work together, we need to be able to talk to each other.” Harper’s voice was firm, but not unkind.

Elle stood up fully, the contract feeling heavy in her hands. She knew Harper was right, but she didn’t trust herself around Harper anymore, not after what happened the other night. And the only way to avoid another kiss that she’d only end up regretting was to keep her distance from Harper.

Elle held out the paperwork. “Here’s the rental agreement.”

Harper took the contract, her fingers brushing against Elle’s. The brief contact sent a jolt through Elle, and she pulled her hand back quickly.

Harper’s eyes softened. “Why don’t you come inside for a glass of wine?”

Elle’s first instinct was to decline, to maintain the professional distance she’d tried to establish. But as she looked at Harper, Elle found herself nodding. “Okay, just one glass.”

Harper stepped aside, allowing Elle to enter. As she crossed the threshold, Elle took a steadying breath. She knew they needed to talk, to clear the air, but the prospect of confronting their feelings terrified her. Harper led her to the kitchen, where she poured two glasses of red wine.

As Elle accepted the glass, their fingers touched again, lingering a moment longer than necessary. She met Harper’s gaze, seeing a reflection of her own conflicted emotions.

Harper spoke first. “Is it okay if I have my lawyer look over the contract? It’s not that I don’t trust you?—”

Elle cut her off. “Of course. There’s no rush. Take all the time you need.”

Harper held her gaze. “What if I cooked us dinner on Friday? Everything should be in order by then.”

Elle once again found herself hesitating before she agreed. As Harper said, they did need to be able to talk. Dinner was harmless, and then Elle could leave with the signed contract.

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